After recently slipping and falling out of the shower where I proceeded to hit my head on the toilet and thoroughly bang my knee up on the bathroom floor, I've given considerate thought to my future well-being as an elderly woman. The first thing that popped into my mind after this incident was: Good thing I'm not old, or else I would've been like one of those elderly people you see in those Life Call commercials where there's an old person lying on the floor saying "I've fallen and I can't get up." Don't know what I'm talking about? Check this out:
I've been thinking about the kind of old person I will most likely be, considering rapidly deteriorating bone mass and my history of falling down, my outcome looks bleak. Let's look over my long history of utter clumsiness and gracelessness:
It all begins with age 3, where my earliest memories revolve around moments of my lack of coordination. I fell into a pool, where I surely would've drowned, if some stranger hadn't jumped in to save me. Then there was the time I was at the park, and I climbed the ladder to the slide all the way to the top, only to somehow manage to topple down, face first into the sand below. Well, one might argue, I was three years old, of course there are going to be accidents like this. Let's proceed...
In middle school, during a relay race, I fell down on the track during the district finals. Now, in all fairness, this one wasn't really my fault. Anyone who has a knowledge of baton transferring knows there's an improper and a proper way to do it, and it just so happened that the girl behind me transferred the baton the improper way, leading to my fall in front of hundreds. I got back up and finished the race, but the second I crossed the finish line I broke down and started bawling from sheer embarrassment. Oh, poor middle school Jackie, how were you to know there were (are) so many more future public falls coming your way? This one, at least, wasn't my fault. I can't say that for the others.
Next, my very first day in high school, during Freshman orientation, I somehow managed to fall between the bleachers. To make it more embarrassing, this was right in front of the senior guys. One of them noticed my fall and asked, "Oh, man. Are you okay?" In which I meekly nodded my head and hid my face for the rest of the orientation.
Still freshman year in high school: One day after school got out, I was walking across the campus to where my brother would pick me up from school, when I tripped over a log that anyone could see a mile away (including me, but somehow my brain telling my foot to step over the log was lost somewhere in my synapses). I quickly scrambled back to an upright position, placed my hands on either side of my face to avoid the looks of the rest of the student body, and practically ran to my brother's truck. While heading to his truck (I would only look straight ahead of me) I could see right into my brother's windshield where he was pointing and laughing at me. Thanks, brother.
Sophomore year in high school: I participated in track during high school. Strange to think I would do this since running relies on good balance, but run I did. During regionals, I raced in the 100 meter dash. Who knows how I did this, but I managed to trip over nothing but my own two feet during the race. There, in front of the entire county, I fell down in a very public way. I got up and finished the race, where people gathered around me to ask if I was okay. I was embarrassed, but otherwise I thought I was fine. This was until I looked down at my leg, where the entire right side of my shin was skinned, leaving raw nerves exposed. This lead to my leg scabbing up in a very unattractive way, with tons of little leg hairs that I couldn't shave poking out of the scab for months. To this day, if you look closely enough, that part of my shin is a little discolored from the rest of my leg.
Senior year in high school: I told my parents I was going out for a run. I put on my Nike running pants and headed off to the soccer field where I planned on running some laps. It had rained a couple days before, so the field had some muddy parts. Wouldn't you know I slipped on the grass and slid right into a very muddy patch. Luckily, there wasn't anyone to witness this, but the most humiliating part was coming back home. I remember walking through the door, entirely covered in mud, hoping my parents wouldn't notice. My dad looked at me, took in my appearance, and asked what happened. I told him I slipped and fell at the field. He shook his head and laughed, and said something to the effect of "I should've known."
Still senior year in high school: I fell down some stairs at a party. It caused quite a commotion. I blamed it on the heels/drinks, but really, I just fell down the stairs. Plain as that.
A couple years ago, I was running around my house getting ready for work. I was wearing pantyhose and I hadn't put my shoes on yet, so my feet were slipping around on our hardwood floor. I was running down the hallway, when I lost control and slid across the floor right into the doorway. I hit my knee HARD. I remember writhing on the floor in pain, holding back tears. I was holding my knee and rocking back and forth while my boyfriend sleepily asked what the commotion was all about as my two dogs got right in my face, seeming to ask me if I was okay. I kid you not, I had a bruise on my knee for an entire year. I swear! I'm not making this up. To this date, it's the longest running bruise I've ever had. And I've had quite a few.
There's a decline in accidents, but that's more to the fact that I've become less and less active since high school. I'm sure there's been many more in my life, but these are the ones that stand out to me. As you can see, I think I need to worry for my older self. I should probably invest in Life Call.
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