Falling Out of Balance

It happened again. As I was opening the heavy front door to Temple Micah this morning, with my arms full of music notebooks late to choir rehearsal, my water bottle fell. As I reached down to get it, I found myself falling backwards.

There is that awful moment between when you realize you are falling and when you hit the ground. This time I landed on my tailbone and knocked the back of my head into the stone rim around the door – a double whammy so to speak. My first question is always “Did I break anything?” The answer is always NO since I do have good bones fortunately. But my tuchy area was definitely bruised.

My husband, who had been following me up the stairs and watched this happen, helped me get up and gather all my things. I asked him to check my eyes – I think that’s what you do to detect a concussion. Then upon hearing that they looked OK, I sent him on to choir practice and went to get some ice for the knot that was already forming on my head.

As I sat in the lobby listening to the choir rehearse, our rabbi Danny walked in the front door and offered to sit and keep me company while I held the plastic bag of ice to my lumpy head. He told me how he had fallen recently while running and bruised two ribs. Then he had to go be a rabbi.

My friend Liz, the flute player, and Jennifer from the choir came in and listened to my accident story. What was concerning me most was not that I had fallen, but rather that this was not the first time and that I feel that my balance is somehow compromised. I just want to understand if there is something wrong with my body. Liz suggested that I call Deborah, my doctor, but unfortunately Deborah is in Ohio this weekend and I certainly don’t want to see an ER doctor.

I spent the morning hearing stories of falls that were supposed to make me feel like mine was nothing to worry about. Everyone was genuinely concerned, but no one understands this worry that continues to haunt me. I know now that I fall only when my arms are full of heavy things. Unfortunately that limits my ability to break my fall. So what am I supposed to do, never carry anything again?

I managed to get through the service this morning, politely answering questions about how I was feeling (post-thyroid treatment), not even bothering to tell those people about my more recent concerns. The ice helped the bump on my head and I actually don’t have a headache. Aside from a sore ass, there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage. But a fall knocks the energy out of me at least for a little while. If I could have one wish right now, it would be to experience a really balanced body.