F@$! Stairs

I fell on Friday night. Brett had headed up to bed and I was right behind him. I was holding my book and was trying to walk like a normal person. You know, one step, one foot, next step, next foot. I forgot that I could not walk up the stairs like that. I have to take them one at a time. Right foot first, then left foot on the same step. I use my arms a lot to pull myself up the stairs. I made it to the last step, and I tried to step up with my left foot. And my knee gave out. And I fell forward, thank goodness.

Brett looked out of the bathroom and asked me if I was ok, and I was. He asked me I wanted help, and I said no. So he went back into the bathroom. I love that man. He knows me so well. Better than I know myself sometimes.

I tired to get up. I couldn't. I sat in the hallway a while. My only choice was to crawl into the bedroom and pull myself up on the bed. And I laughed the whole way there.

There are stairs everywhere. They slow me down. They make me fall. They remind me of what I can't do. I have moments of feeling like I could become bitter about all of this. But for that moment, I decided to laugh.