Falling Down

I have mentioned previously that I have fallen a number of times over the last two years.  When Dr. Callahan first told me that he suspected I had CBD, I wanted to know the outcome of this condition.  If it didn’t kill you outright, why do most folks only live from five to seven years after being diagnosed?  The first thing my neurologist said was not to think of that average as a timetable for death.  I want to do all that I can to live as long as possible, but that being said, what takes most folks with CBD to the cemetery?  Dr. Callahan said it was usually the result of two things.

First, because CBD affects the muscles of the throat, patients often loose the ability to swallow properly.  As food and liquid “goes the wrong way” you become susceptible to “aspirational pneumonia.”  For this reason people in the last stages of this condition often have a feeding tube.  While I have told my wife that I don’t want that, I suppose it might be better than experiencing what doctors euphemistically call “failure to thrive.” I fear that I am already on that path, since I occasionally choke on liquids and especially when taking pills.  Of course, everyone does that some, but I am doing it far more frequently than I did just two years ago. 

Second, as I have mentioned CBD affects coordination, balance, and has the strange effect of causing the leg muscles to often tense up.  As you might imagine that means the potential for falling down is pretty high, unless precautions are taken.  Early on I decided it was wisdom to get a cane, to be generally cautious, and wherever possible to use the elevator rather than the steps.  You don’t have to have work hard to picture a scenario where serious damage can be done from a fall.

That leads me to the reason that I have called this blog post “falling down.”  While attending the Theological Symposium at Welch College I had a bad fall.  I was coming into the Student Center for the evening session when I suddenly fell face forward onto the tile floor.  I really don’t know what sort of misstep caused this.  I asked a friend who had observed my swan dive and he said it just looked like I was moving forward while my feet didn’t move.  Think of a tree being cut down and you will have the picture.  I did stay for the first session that night, but by the end of it I knew I needed to head home.  I had pain in my knee and my arm and was fearful I might stiffen up to the point that driving would be dangerous.  The next morning found me a bit sore, but not seriously banged up.  I determined to be more cautious in the future and proceeded to go about my daily business.  Midmorning I heard something outside which led to an investigation.  Headed back to the condo a small misstep put me on my back.  My first thought was this made two falls in two days!  I then realized that I couldn’t roll to my right and get up.  I had become the old woman in the commercial who cries out, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  I had to smile about that, but back to the problem.  After another failure to get up led me to wonder how long it would be before someone saw me, the smile was gone.  To make a long story short, I found a way to get up, but I also realized that I had aggravated my injuries from the night before.  I would eventually go to my doctor out of fear that I had cracked a bone or damaged my hip or knee.  The x-rays found no cause for the serious pain in my right leg and hip. It must just be deep bruising and muscle strain.  It continues to subside, but is still a very present aggravation two weeks after the mishap.

Ok, I am sure some of you are feeling sorry for me by now, but that is not my objective.  I detailed the story of falling down to make this point.  Within seconds of hitting the floor at the college there were numerous people rushing to help me up.  One friend who was present said, “Tell us how we can help you.”  I believe his fear was that I might have broken something and just pulling me up could do more harm than good.  Unless it has happened to you, you can’t imagine how embarrassing it is to be sprawled out on the floor with a crowd gathering around you!  Sensing no serious damage, except to my pride, I asked for a hand and more than enough help was given.  When I decided to leave I felt I ought to tell Matt Pinson, who is the chairman of the Theological Commission on which I also serve.  Brother Matt was anxious to help me in any way I might ask, but I declined the offer.  As I got out of the building a student, that I don’t know, was hurrying to catch up to me, “Brother Randy, isn’t there someway I can help you?”  I told him that I appreciated the offer but I would be OK.  A few steps latter I encountered my friend, Barry Simpson, who must have picked up on the pained look on my face.  He asked, “Randy, what happened?”  I told him of my fall and that I was headed home.  He wanted to do something to help.  I guess the third time was the charm.  He carried the notebook I had and walked me to my car adding, “Are you going to be alright?”  I assured him I would be and steered toward Ashland City.

In thinking back about those two falls I am struck by two things.  The first is that people genuinely want to be helpful and are concerned.  That means a lot since this problem has isolated me to some degree.  It reminds me that a lot of folks care.  The second is that when venturing out of my house by myself I need at least two companions, my cane and my cellphone.  I had neither when if suffered the second fall.  Joy hinted around about getting a “life alert” pendant.  “You know, like the one your Mom just got.”  (I am 60, Momma is 84!)  Maybe it will come to that, but I don’t think it has yet.  I guess the bottom line is that while I need to be responsible, I need to remember that I’m not alone on this journey.  There are more than a few who are thinking what my friend said at Welch, “Tell us how we can help you.”  May the Lord bless you all.  Who knows, you may be hearing from me soon.