I was flippant this morning in my video when I mentioned Jon being sick all weekend and then falling on the stairs. I moved right on to the blooming peonies and how good they smell.
But later I was trying to write about my Walk-about and found that the words weren’t coming together in my head. Then after I drove Jon to get his covid test at Saratoga Hospital and I was trying to sew my potholders, I found I was having a hard time focusing.
I began to wonder if I didn’t have covid too. I’ve been unusually tired since Saturday. And maybe it wasn’t allergies that were keeping my nose running and throat scratchy. I’ve heard that covid can cause people to have a “foggy” head too.
Every time I began doing one thing, I thought of so many other things that needed to be done.
I didn’t want to bother Jon with how I was feeling. He had his own pains and difficulties to deal with. I don’t even remember how we began talking about it. But as we did I started to cry. And last night when Jon fell down the stairs came rushing back to me.
Waking up at 2 am and looking over to see the empty bed next to me. Then the loud thump, two or three of them. And there was Jon’s shadowy figure at the bottom of the stairs. I called his name and thankfully he answered me quickly saying he was alright.
When I was finally honest about it, to him and myself, I was able to admit that the whole incident terrified me.
We’d slept downstairs, Jon in his chair and me on the couch for the two previous nights so he wouldn’t have to go down the stairs to use the bathroom. Not only did he need to get there quickly, but he was shaky and his balance was off from being sick.
So last night when we decided to sleep in bed, I’d asked Jon to wake me up if he did have to go downstairs. But the truth is, even if I was awake, there’s little I could have done to help him. Jon is so much bigger than I am, I couldn’t have caught him or stopped him from slipping.
What kept me in turmoil and was so upsetting was how helpless I felt. That there was nothing I could have done to stop Jon from falling. That I couldn’t and can’t protect him. That what happens to Jon is not something I have control over.
What I think is that we got lucky. Lucky that he got Covid (if that’s what he has) now that he’s vaccinated and boosted and not two years ago. Lucky that he didn’t fall from the top of the stairs or hurt himself even more.
So now I’m going to sit with that for a while. Maybe let it settle and then let it go. Or something, honestly, I don’t know what to do with it. Maybe sleep will help. Maybe I’ll feel better about it all in the morning.
6 thoughts on “I Think We Got Lucky”
I hope you get tested too Maria, I just got over Covid and it does make you very weary and “brain fog” for sure. I just thought I had a stuffy nose and scratchy throat, but I tested positive. You feel the weariness long after the symptoms are gone. Take care, both of you.
I know that this suggestion might not be welcomed however consider getting a folding commode chair to be used only in this kind of situation. Thank goodness he’s okay, it could easily have been a different outcome.
I was thinking about a composting toilet Laurie.
I’ve always wanted a composting toilet. When I’m hurting and having back pain, I appreciate a commode because it’s very stable and easy to get on and off of because it is high. It can also be right next to the bed. It sounds like Jon was very weak from whatever he’s dealing with. When I don’t have pain-I don’t want to see it so folding is good.
It’s sounds like a good solution for you Laurie. I can imagine how helpful it is.