So last night, at midnight or so, I woke up and realized that I needed to pee. I turned on the lamp beside my bed, scrambled erect with the aid of the crutches, and headed for the bathroom. I appoached the step up into the dining room/Grnadmother's room. I thought I was close enough to try to make it.
The ball of my left foot catches the edges of the step, just under my big toe. My lower body stopped moving. However, my upper body continued to move forward. I fell with a clatter onto the floor hitting my right knee.
"FUCK!" I shouted demurely. "I need some help!" I shouted into the darkness. While Mom and Dad woke up enough to help, I scooted back where I could grab the grab bar next to the door that we installed for Dad last summer. I grabbed hold, and as Mom helped, got back to my feet, or foot, as the case may be. I made my way into the bathroom, my confidence completely shaken. My foot throbbed as I finished my business. As I hopped back to bed, I noticed spots on the floor. my foot was bleeding. I got Mom to bandage it up, all the while I muttered "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."
This morning, I have a bruise on my knee, a sensitive left toe, and no desire to sit in a recliner any longer.
I hate this.
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