After the Fall
I’ve just passed the fifth anniversary of a small fall that took a big chunk out of my life. It was one of those little things – carrying that last box of Christmas ornaments to the basement for storage – when, just three steps from the bottom, I missed one. All I could think about in the 2 seconds it took me to tumble to the ground was trying not to fall on the ornaments (it was the last box, but who knew what precious memories were in that one?) – though that focus completely disappeared once I hit the floor. The ornaments, as it turned out, were safe. My left ankle, not so much. The next several weeks were discouragingly inconvenient when it came to navigating stairs, opening doors (even the ones that are ostensibly designed to accommodate such things), and – worst of all – showering. But perhaps the most frustrating was my rehab stint. I would not have thought it was possible in the space of just 8 weeks to forget how to walk – and yet, I found myself struggl...