My World of Parkinsonian Delights

The Well-Placed Chair

Thank goodness for a well-placed chair.

Gail and I just got back from our Sunday grocery romp.  She generally grabs a couple bags from the trunk and watches me as I toddle with my cane up the front steps and through the door.  Then, I keep the dogs at bay as she goes back out to get the rest of the bags.

As she came in, I held the door open for her, and I felt a sharp “ice-pick” of pain in the right side of my noggin.  I stepped backwards to allow her to enter.  (I can hear Dr. Grill right now — “NEVER STEP BACKWARDS!”)

I lost my balance.  But I held on to the doorknob with my left hand…

I kept falling anyway, but now it was more of a controlled descent until my butt landed on a chair we have positioned by the hallway near the front door.  No harm, no foul.

I suppose I should enter it into my “fall journal” just to be fair.

But first, I’m gonna go lay down for awhile.

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