I’m Your Cautionary Tale....What You Can Learn From My Horrifying Fall
“Ok, I’ve got to grab that grocery list from my desk, run to the store, then get back and knock out that recipe for next week’s email. After that, I’ve got to….”
The Fall
As I rounded the corner to charge into the room to get that list, I felt my right forefoot catch, and I fell forward, face-planting into the door frame.
As my face slammed, I instinctively cried out, “MY EYE!” Lying there on the floor, conscious but somehow unable to move, I thought, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get up?” then seconds later, “Am I dying?” My Apple Watch started to screech, “Fall Detected!” then “Call 911?”
I declined the emergency call and, using all the effort I could muster, made my way upstairs, leaving a trail of blood from the gash on the side of my face. I got ice for my face, lay down on the couch, and tried to assess the situation.
I imagined my eye being crushed like a cherry tomato, and was monumentally relieved to discover that I could still see. So, I had cuts on my face and arm, had skinned my knee, my eye seemed to be ok……I didn’t think I needed to go to an emergency room; it was just a bad fall, right?
Before you judge my decision, remember this was a Saturday evening. I’ve heard innumerable stories about ERs on the weekends, particularly the evenings. The last thing I wanted to do was go to a hospital, mostly because of my experience with them with my parents.
Mom was in 4 different hospitals here in Birmingham. I ended up filing complaints with every single one. In the final case, I met with the CEO of the hospital whose nurse insisted on discharging Mom, despite her sudden inability to speak. Days later, we got her admitted to a different hospital and found out she had a brain bleed, from which she died.
So I was loathe to go to a hospital…..
But the next morning, I was concerned about the status of my eye and went to the emergency room. Sunday morning. No line. No wait!
The Surgeries
“Blowout fracture.”
That’s a term I’d never heard. If you know someone who’s had a blowout fracture, there’s bound to be a story to go with it. It’s most often caused by a ball….or a fist. We’ve now heard numerous stories from our clients who have sons….
It’s a break in the thin bones of the eye socket floor, and mine was a classic case:double vision when looking up or sideways, swelling and bruising around my eye, trouble moving my eye to the left and down, cheek and lip numbness, and my eye looked a little sunken.
Everyone said they couldn’t see it. I have super nice friends….
The typical ocular floor loss in a blowout fracture is 25-50%.The CT scan showed that roughly 70% of my ocular floor was gone. All of the eye tests looked good, but without surgery, my eye muscles would be entrapped. The surgery needed to be sooner, rather than later.
My surgery was August 10, a week and a day after the fall. There was a surprise waiting for my surgeon when she cut into my face—there was no ocular floor left at all. Everyone asks, “Where did it all go?” Well, all of those tiny fragments of bone had to be cleaned up from my sinuses.
The plate the surgeon intended to use to create my new ocular floor was now too small for that space, and she had to size up. After the surgery, they did another scan and….
“I’m afraid that plate is sitting up too high. We may need to go back in and trim it.”
Noooo……. I still had some double vision, but surely that’s just a matter of the swelling going down, then I’ll be as good as new, right? I didn’t want to go through all that again, particularly general anesthesia twice in 10 days—at my age.
At my post-op visit, she tested my tracking and could see that I still had entrapment, now due to the length of the plate.
To her great credit, all along the way, she left decisions up to me. In this case, I could see she thought a revision was necessary. She’s as much of a perfectionist as I am.
My daughters both said, “I can’t imagine you’ll have any regrets doing it, but you might have regrets not doing it.”
Yesterday, August 20, I had a second surgery. Groundhog Day. After the surgery, I had another CT scan. When the surgeon came to my bedside, she said, “It’s perfect.”
Recovery is going to take a while. My left cheek, the left side of my nose, and my upper left teeth are all numb—I bite my lip at least once a day. Double-vision comes and goes, but it’s getting better. I can’t blow my nose for a month. Heaven help me if I catch a cold! The second surgery did a number on my energy and stamina, but…..
I can see! My vision is what matters most. I’m beyond grateful.
The Lessons
There will be falls.Katie and I went downstairs like a couple of forensic scientists, trying to figure out what happened. At first, I thought I caught my foot on the rug, but the trajectory didn’t make sense. The edge of the rug is too far from the doorway. I think I simply caught the bottom of my shoe on the rug. I’ll be keeping an eye (see what I did there…?) on that foot to see if I’m scuffing it somehow.
Yes, I was in a hurry and carrying something in both hands, so I couldn’t break my fall, but I’m not going to slow down…..well, maybe at that one spot downstairs…
Wear a fall detector if you spend a lot of time alone.I was so happy to have a client tell me that she’d gotten herself an Apple Watch after my fall because she’d been concerned about how much time she spent alone at her lake house—and what would happen ifshefell?
UAB Hospital is awesome. It hasn’t always been. In 1997, my dad was admitted there for surgery for his bile duct cancer. The experience was so poor that when they sent their evaluation sheet, I filled up all the spacesandthe margins, enumerating the instances of poor care. My own experience couldn’t have been more opposite. Every single person I encountered was helpful, friendly, and caring. I don’t know how they do it. It was, as Dr. Svientek said, “Perfect.”
Most of all, do everything you can to stay fit and healthy.Waiting to be admitted to the hospital, I was disturbed by the number of people I saw who appeared to be generally unhealthy, bringing lots of complications to their surgery.
Time after time, I got a double-take from a nurse who’d ask, “What medications are you on?” and I said, “None.” One said, “We don’t get people like you in here.”
I’m not exceptional. But I am consistent. I’m discriminating about what I eat, and my exercise habits are part of my routine. I don’t decide whether I’ll exercise, but when.
While you’re doing everything in your power to prevent a fall, spend equal time staying in shape so that when it happens, you’ll bounce back quickly.
After a decimating fall, blowout fracture, concussion, and two surgeries in 10 days, I’m grateful, lucky, and can’t wait to get to work building my muscle mass and stamina back to where they were.
If my experience inspires you in some way, I hope it’s this:stay ready for the life you didn’t plan for. When life throws a curveball—or a door frame—you’ll be resilient enough to bounce back.
You can’t control the fall. You can control what kind of body catches you when it happens.
If my story has inspired you to make a change, I’d love to hear about it. Share this with someone who needs a nudge to prioritize their health.
I’d like to think that some good has come from all of this!
