Thursday, July 22, 2010

A Perfect Record Falls

You MM trekkers know that when you pop into the infusion center or doctor's office, they often ask you a set of customary  questions such as:  Have you experienced Fever? Nausea? Pain? Fallen?  I'd write Diarrhea, but I can't spell it. Bleeding? Dizziness?  Fatigue? Insomnia? and so on.

I have always been able to answer the questions without thinking twice. Sometimes I've had fevers, trouble sleeping, nausea, pain - most likely you all have answered 'yes' to these categories at one time or the other.

But the one question I've never answered 'yes' to was: Have you fallen? Until now!

A couple of days ago I stepped out to get the mail. The box is at the end of our two-house street, and as I set foot onto the somewhat damp lawn, gravity in conspiracy with an unknown assailant, struck. My legs shot out in front of me, time turned into a Matrix-like super slow-motion, my arms flailed out to my sides desperate not to be pinned under my girth, my Nike ball cap jumped ship, my glasses went sideways, and I landed on my back with a thud that should have measured high on the Richter Scale.

I was motionless for a few seconds as the blood rushed and pounded in my ears. I was just hoping that it wasn't rushing out of my ears!

I noticed that I could breath. And that I could see the partly-cloudy Ozark's sky and that nothing seemed to hurt too badly. I also noticed that I could hear the blue jay sitting in my cedar tree. Blue jays are territorial and they 'dive bomb' creatures that get in their space. I had visions of looking like a huge worm to this opportunistic blue jay. I've seen the Hitchcock movie. Better move before the pecking started.

I cautiously lifted up my head, I'll admit, to see if the neighbors were laughing at me or  if they had a video camera aimed to create the next YouTube viral video. I was alone. Except for the blue jay and the chipmunk that peeked out from behind the low rock wall. I swear that before he scurried away he said 'So sorry for your nasty spill, old chap, but you can't catch me now!'

Where does a hillbilly chipmunk get off calling me 'Old Chap'? 51 is not old! Although 1 human year is about 25 chipmunk years. I may not be able to catch him, but I will out live him.

It was then that I  remembered that I had Myeloma, a history of  a bunch of fractured ribs, shoulders, vertebrae, sternum, and more. In a split second, did I just undo surgeries, Zometa infusions, and anti-couch- potato rehabilitation?

My toes and fingers wiggled. I could move my neck slowly  from side to side. My arms bent reasonably from the elbows and then from the shoulders. Okay so far. I  bent my knees and moved my feet closer to my hips. I stretched my back with great care and didn't hear anything crack or pop. Hugging my knees, I sat up and looked over at my neighbor's house again. No $10,000 Home Video Prize for them! I gingerly rose to my feet, no worse for the wear. A quick prayer expressed my gratitude and I promptly forgot about the mail.

So next Wednesday at my weekly maintenance chemo session, I will be asked 'Have you fallen?'  And my answer will be....... 'You got a minute?' Or my pride might get the better of me and I'll say 'Nope.'

Be careful out there in Myelomaville!



Dom and Nan said...

I can't begin to tell you how much we enjoy your posts!

You've created many smiles and chuckles, Sean.

It sounds like you're OK.... and we're happy about that!

Sandy said...

So glad to hear that you are OK... and I loved the chipmunk shot... when you do catch up with him, perhaps you can get him to autograph it!

Nick said...

I love your writing, Sean! Aaah, the little indignities of our condition, eh? :) I love the hillbilly chipmunk reference!!!

Be well, my friend!

Susie Hemingway said...

You made me chuckle a bit here but I am so pleased you are OK and nothing broken. Lovely photo of Mr Chipmunk, I bet he had a chuckle too. Stay well.