I am sure you are aware that falls are the major cause of injury-related death among old people in the UK. Over 5000 people die every year. And guess what? Yesterday, this old person suffered a fall.
Fortunately, all the kings horses and all the kings man were not required to put this Humpty Dumpty Numpty together again. Given that they failed to put the original Mr Dumpty together again, perhaps it’s just as well I didn’t need them.
I’m pretty sure my own fall was not as a direct result of being a doddery old fool. I caught my sandal on the edge of the pavement while I was looking in another direction and toppled to the floor, banging my knees and head. Luckily, I managed to instinctively put my hands out, thus breaking my fall, but I got very lucky. Nothing was badly damaged except my pride. It could have been much worse and perhaps one day it will be.
Embarrassingly, I was visiting an old friend for a few pints in Gloucester and we were in between bars and pubs on a scorching hot day. I should point out at this juncture that we had only just left the first venue so I am not attributing my clumsiness to taking too much alcohol on board. And my injuries were not such that the ‘walking tour’ had to be abandoned. Far from it. I achieved the required 10,000 steps without further incident. It’s only today that I feel lingering effects.
I am sure that in my younger day, my body would have completely recovered by now. In my older day, so to speak, the aches and pains kept waking me up throughout the night and I stumbled downstairs today with all the grace of Frankenstein’s monster. It’s not so much the actual injuries that are the main problem, it’s the recovery times. No matter how you think you know about getting old, when its effects become apparent, it’s still a surprise and, moreover, an important reminder to do the things you really want to do in life now.
How I miss the indestructibility of youth. You know what it’s like when you are young. You can be oblivious to danger, getting into all manner of potentially dangerous situations and carrying out reckless actions, but it doesn’t matter because of course you are going to live forever, quite probably remaining forever young. If only.
While I am fitter than I was a year ago – not least because of the death of our last cat, which ended my half a life of chronic asthma (it turned out to be a severe cat allergy – doh!) and increasingly desperate efforts to shed some pounds – unfortunately the ageing process continues. And because of the countless injuries I had during my less-than-stellar parks football career, which have all returned to haunt me on old age, I am restricted as to which activities I can manage. Staying fit as a young man ensured there were negative consequences as I got older.
Increasing old age is a proper bastard because it doesn’t hit you all at once. It kind of creeps up on you when you are doing things. It certainly bloody well crept up on me yesterday, not when I managed to tumble to the ground but during the recovery period, which includes now, as I have tiny cuts all over my already arthritic fingers and even typing this rubbish is an effort. Yes, woe is me.
There is much to be said for growing old. It certainly beats the alternative, that’s for sure. But the admittedly minor effects of taking a tumble yesterday have surprised me a bit and I know that if I am still in the land of living in a couple of years, the consequences could be far worse.
I never expected that my life would ever be at risk from falling over, but there we are. My advice to fellow old codgers is to mind how you go. I wish I had minded a bit more yesterday!
