The Newtonian Apple falls on my head during a Bathroom Fall!

So, a couple of weeks back, Ms. Dhir turned into Ms. Dumpty and had a great fall!

It happened in the likeliest of places. In the wet Bathroom, with tiles that were thought to be non-skid and with a good grip, when they were first laid down!

Yet when shit happens, it happens.

I was caught unawares, but that is the intrinsic trait of accidents. They always catch you when you least expect them to happen.

Since I have fallen a few times before, I am extra careful while going about things.

But bad luck and bad timing can befall you at their own will.

What is also surprising is that I was doing what I do on an everyday basis.

I have this ritual of washing my bathroom every day during my bath time. So, all moves are measured, rehearsed, and practiced.

Yet, two days back, no amount of practice paid back in any dividend whatsoever. I turned, while still giving a good scrub to a temporary stain on the pristine white floor tiles and before I knew it, I and all the pounds I have collected about me over time, came crashing down.

The bath mug made a louder noise and preceded my shriek, which was loud enough too, to bring the house down.

Le Husband ran to the door and kept asking repeatedly if everything was OK.

There was stony silence from inside the bathroom. He called out again.

Not a word out of me. He called again, a little louder, with urgency riding over his tone.

And I began to seethe.

You see, I had fallen with a hard impact on my right knee, then the right arm and elbow, and finally my left knee. I was down on all fours on a slippery, soap-suddy floor that was not helping at all in my endeavours to scramble back to an erect position.

I had almost crashed to a point where my face was about to slam into the hard floor. Remember that heart-stopping and thrilling scene showing the aerial hanging position and the roller-coaster sharp landing Tom Cruise experienced as his rope went berserk and loose, in one of those Mission Impossible movies? I was that close to the ground. And half an inch from getting my head banged against one of the walls.

My arms flailed, wishing to grab the faucet or take a hold of the edge of the Basin to gain support. All the time, one part of my thoughts went in the direction of ‘what if I bring the basin down with a thud on account of my weight or have the faucet yanked off the wall because of the pressure I would be holding onto it with.’

The more I tried to use the strength of my arms to get myself up, the more I slipped on the soapy surface. It looked a bit comical too.

With great determination, and with a great show of muscle, I came back up with not too much of me scattered around but for the heart that was threatening to leap out of my mouth. I held on to the basin to get the colour back on my face, to assuage my feverishly thumping heartbeat, to calm down my terribly frayed nerves.

Outside the door, Le Husband was getting frantic by the minute, “Mona, Mona, are you alright?”

“Should I come inside?” – that sounded more like a threat to my senses than an offering of help.

“Say something,” he continued.

By this time, I was up on my twos, in a more decent position with a semblance of composure regained, and I shot back, “YES!!!! I am FINE! NOW!!!”

“Give me a bloody second,” I snapped like a Banshee.

And then almost immediately felt repentant. I brought my voice down, and in the sweetest note I could muster, I told him I had had a fall, but was now back on my feet and will come out and share all.

That’s the thing with long marriages. The more a marriage becomes old and mundane, the more the couple has less patience with each other. The rose-tinted glasses of romance have long been forgotten in the bottom drawer, snappy come backs have become more de rigueur, there is no reason for pretence or put on acts of sugar-coated politeness. Having seen each other in our barest minimum, there are no qualms about letting our dirty laundry – literally and not euphemistically – hang out and our warts and all show.

All the while, I knew that he had only meant well. We all know that, yet we get cranky.

Only the timing and the incessant asking was misplaced. But then when have men been known for good timing! Ask us women, who plot and manoeuvre our repartees and strategic stings!

I digress here. The story is about my fall.

I came out in one piece. Literally! With no bones broken or knees smashed.

Yes I have been aching for days and writhing in pain. I even limp a little or a lot at certain times. I toss and turn a lot in the night. The right knee and forearm down to the elbow are worse than the left. The lower back hurts like hell. Pain shoots up to the muscles over the Scapula. The Acetabulum hurt the most. Both!

But I have still come away easy. All I have taken is Neorelax and Paracetamol a few times. Volini and DFO Gel locally applied are doing wonders. Just as a bit of rest is helping a lot too.

Yet, things could have been a lot worse. With bones cracked, emergency visits to the hospital, and slow burn healing.

This again serves as a sharp wake-up call, the Nature’s clarion call or Shiva Slaps as I like to call them.

I know that I have been doing myself in with my sedentary lifestyle. About time changes begin to get made.

As professionals with busy work lives, and as homebound but overly worked-off people, we cannot afford such nasty surprises! Maintaining our core strength and being kind to our bodies is something we cannot, and should not ignore!

Keep moving your little and big body parts people. Keep them oiled and in shape at all times.

A fall not only incapacitates you, and eats into your productivity work wise; it also taxes your caregivers acutely.

And what’s a fall without some harsh truths and bitter lessons, eh!

Meanwhile, I am on the mend. You take care of yourselves too!

Stay safe! Stay happy!

*****