Gravity Poisoning in New Orleans

But cover up them holes NOLA!

Photo by mana5280 on Unsplash

It’s funny how the world can suddenly shift, and what seemed like a lovely stroll down a New Orleans street turns into what would have been an awesome YouTube video if someone had been watching.

I was in NOLA for a medical conference. One morning I was walking down the street and (as usual) got a little turned around. My wife, who serves as my gorgeous GPS, was not with me.

Anyway, like a fool I was looking at my stupid phone and trying to map my way back to the hotel. In my other hand was a large half sweet/half unsweet iced tea from Chic-Fil-A. I had been craving one for days. I know, it’s New Orleans! But I’m really not an alcohol guy. My heart was therefore full when I saw he red sign on the street that represented the “Jesus Chicken” restaurant I so love. Drink in hand I was just strolling along in early morning joy.

That’s when the earth shifted. The buildings and sky vanished. I found myself face-down on the pavement, phone skipping down the concrete, pain shooting through my arms and especially my left knee. And tragedy of tragedies, my precious tea already evaporating, its styrofoam cup a wreck.

As I assessed the situation, and determined that I was not dead, had not been hit by meteorite, drunk driver or stray bullet, I looked down and noticed the open hole in the middle, the middle mind you, of the sidewalk. It was apparently the access for water lines, and was about 12 inches in diameter and maybe 12 inches or more deep. The local denizens had wisely seen fit to use it as a trash receptacle. Fortunately there were no muskrat traps or Punji sticks in the bottom.

My left foot had found it’s way into the wee chasm and thus, I had fallen forward. Fortunately I didn’t face plant, or break my wrist. I feel onto my forearms and kept my head up. I retain all of my teeth.

Thank God nothing was obviously deformed. No bone seemed to be coming through skin (although it did later feel as if it might). My pride far too wounded to ask for help, I got up, hobbled back to the hotel, changed out of my torn slacks and as one does, went back to my meeting, gimping and limping my way from class to class.

The pain seemed to worsen but I made it through. However, despite ice and Voltaren gel, it was ridiculously hard to do simple things, like step into the shower, take off (or put on) shoes or socks, bend over for things I had dropped, etc.

I’m fairly fit and young…ish, OK? I lift weights and run regularly. I’m only a little overweight. I was able to navigate this and by now, I’m moving better every day. I am still bitter about the hole in the ground, but hey, it’s a reminder to pay attention.

However, it’s also a stark reminder that many folks who fall down, even those who don’t break things, have a rough go of it. In medicine it’s all too easy to say to our patients, ‘nothing is broken, you don’t need to be in the hospital.’ But sometimes, especially in the debilitated, the disabled, the ill and the elderly, even a bad bruise makes navigating a house or apartment, even a set of steps, nigh on impossible. This is far worse in those who are alone, have no nearby family, few or no friends and insufficient funds for home health or a facility.

I really hate that I looked like a fool in New Orleans. Admittedly, though, it’s not unusual for people to fall and look stupid in that wild, untamed city. It’s just that usually they’re having more fun, and they drop a Hurricane, not an iced tea. And sometimes they’re naked. And covered in beeds. And lie there for a while. Or all night. Or wake up in jail. Anyway…

Still, it was a valuable prompt to be kind to my patients who fall.

Because falling ain’t for the faint of heart.

Edwin