The Friday before the Fourth of July was not one of those days. I fell twice during my one-mile-plus walk. What's worse is that I couldn't get up!
About a block from my house, came the first fall. I attempted to get off the sidewalk to dodge a prickly bush, and went boom. A Good Samaritan helped me up. I continued my trek home, and didn't feel right. The temperature was hot, somewhere between 85 and 90 degrees; thus, I became tired, and unintentionally dragged my feet.
I finally reach my steep driveway, and loose my footing again, causing me to careen into the garage door. I land on my hands and knees, and bloody my left one. The concrete is too hot, and my knee is too banged up to crawl on it, so I call my son, who is in the house.
Six times I try and he doesn't pick up. Apparently, the phones aren't charged downstairs. Eventually, I make the decision to call my mom, as she lives relatively close by. When she reaches me, she can't help me up, as she has a bad back, so my son, Austin, is brought out to help her. They succeed, and I get a water bottle and l call my primary care physician, whose assistant asks me a few questions. He thinks I just got dehydrated. The incident is still under investigation. It could be tumor related, as the thing is near my motor strip.
Needless to say, I hope it isn't, and I can get back to enjoying the benefits of walking.