Over the past couple of years, I’ve discovered a new Murphy’s Law. It’s this: The older you are, the worse the outcome tends to be when you fall. Three years ago, I slipped on a patch of snow-dusted ice and broke my elbow. And three weeks ago, I stepped out the front door and fell. It was early in the morning, and I went out to walk the dog, unaware that we had gotten freezing rain overnight. It was still dark, and I didn’t think twice about the sidewalk because it had been completely clear and dry the night before. My first step out the door took me down, and I landed in the middle of my back. Hard.
The good news was I didn’t hit my head, but the bad news was I knew I was hurt. An early morning trip to the emergency room confirmed that I had fractured a vertebra in my mid-back. This kind of fracture is a bit like broken ribs; you just have to manage the pain and let it heal. So armed with pain meds, a far-infrared heating pad, a TENS unit, and lidocaine patches, I’ve been getting through it.
