Blogs by Karen Laura-Lee Wilson
8/27/2011 6:46:21 PM
As I've become older my body has been quietly deteriorating away. It took a massive 'thump' to alert me to what was happening.
One Monday evening late July I was busy in the kitchen cooking tacos for my husband and myself for dinner. It was my habit to have a glass or two of wine while I prepared the meal. Half-way through, George entered the kitchen and handed me the phone.
"You had better take this call" he said. Reluctantly I did so, aware that the meat in the frying pan was bubbling away and nearly ready.
"Mum, Lyndall and I have become engaged." I was flabbergasted and somewhat distractedly asked for details from my son. After enthusing about the engagement I returned the phone to my husband and turned my attention to the stove.
Whether in my confused state I had unknowingly tangled my feet around a bar stool or overbalanced, I'll never know. My body was veering backwards towards the kitchen sink with such velocity I was unable to stop myself from falling. it was such a horrible feeling, being so out of control. There was a huge bang as I hit the metal kitchen sink. Instinctively I braced my elbows for impact on the floor. On the way down I felt a sharp pain in my head as it the metal rubbish container. My body slid to floor, like a rag doll. may be I was out to it for a few moments - I don't know.
Next thing I remember is feeling huge surges of pain.
"George!" I screamed out. White-faced, he was horrified to see my body sprawled out on the floor. It was agony as he assisted me to my feet and together, we made the painful journey up the stairs to our bedroom. I cried with pain as I tried to free my arms from sleeves and with George's help slowly removed the remaining clothing. When climbing onto the bed I screamed with pain as I eased myself inch-by-inch onto the mattress. George gave me pain killers. They eventually worked and I fell asleep.
The next morning I examined my body in the mirror. Both elbows were cut and I could detect the beginnings of purple bruises circling the elbow knobs. My back waist sported a thin red line. Aha! The point of impact. Though feeling stiff and sore I managed slowly to walk down the stairs, unaided. That day my doctor managed to fit me into her busy schedule to examine me. She ordered a CT scan of my neck and upper back and referred me to a neurosurgeon.
Such is the the shortage of specialists in Tasmania I wasn't able to see her until last Wednesday 24 August. In the interim, the specialist requested more CT scans and ex-rays. When I finally saw her she detected three stress fractures in my lower spine that showed up on the ex-rays.
No wonder I was feeling so much pain when I vacuumed; carried groceries; and lugged washing to the clothesline.
"No lifting" she advised. That was a bit of a joke telling me four weeks later after the event. This week I shall have a CT for the T8-T12 section of my back and a MRI of my brain. Wow! I shall have to wait another month before I am told the results.
From now on I shall be calling myself 'Karen Crumble'. In the meantime I shall be refraining from drinking alcohol and living each day more mindfully.
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