No, I'm Not Suicidal!

Tho' one might thinks so! We have a 'gate' in the door between the kitchen and the dining room to keep the Household Canine from doing his business on the carpeted floors of the front rooms. It is actually a wheeled cart of the sort people use to carry groceries home from the market. It's collapsible, so we have it folded up and lying across the doorway.

Last night, as I was carrying my computer to my room, one of my large, floppy, yellow Homer Simpson's slippers (don't ask! The Cuter & Shorter Half gave them to me!) snagged itself on the gate. It's happened before, but I've always caught myself rather awkwardly, without falling.

Not so last night! In attempting to catch myself, I went sprawling, with my computer flying across the floor. After I got to my feet, I realised that I had somehow torn a large piece of skin on the back of my left hand.

The C&SH had been outside having a smoke when it happened, but she heard the din (and my rather exasperated shout) and came in, asking if I was alright. I said yes, but asked her to help me bandage the tear in my hand, since it took two hands to place the bandage on it.

As she was bandaging it, I felt dampness on my right arm. Looking down, I say a superficial gash about three inches long on the outside of my lower arm. Luckily, we had some large adhesive bandages, one of which would cover the wound.

I hate getting old, but the alternative is even less pleasant. Had I fallen like that 40 years ago, I would have had an abrasion on my hand, and likely a red scrape on my arm. Now with the thinning of my skin, both broke the skin rather spectacularly. Plus, since I'm on blood thinners for my heart condition, I now have a couple of new and colourful bruises.

But, my computer survived!

The slippers