Yep. Fell. Again. Christian, my Filipino night caregiver, came. When he saw me, he radioed, “308 is on the floor.” And, indeed I was. Navigating around a too large ottoman (now in storage), my left leg wobbled, threw me off balance.

Crash. Whack. (head against wall) Ouch. Protocol here says no helping a fall victim up if they’ve hit their head. EMT’s have to do an assessment first. Means they have to be called. Takes time for them get here. Meanwhile, I’m lying in an uncomfortable position, scattered books and extension cords  serving as my mattress.

EMT guy, a kind man, led their team of three. Did you hit your head? Yes. He felt and looked at the back of my head. No blood, a little swelling. Do you feel any pain in your neck? Nope. All right. Let’s get you up.

Glad. Didn’t have a comfortable position. He got me in my chair and a guy took my blood pressure and O2 saturation. Both fine. The lead guy stepped in again and gave me an EKG. The EKG unit looked like a 1980’s boom box. Heart rhythms. Not disco.

When my heart beat showed up, regular and clean, he said, You’re a healthy guy. I’m going to call a doc and see if we can let you stay home. I sure hoped so. I’d been getting up to go to bed.

Slept in my own bed. Though. Falls. Too many. Something has to happen. Not sure what. At least more P.T.