Falling Well……

Military paratroopers are taught how to fall well. This is the result of trusting a piece of synthetic material to soften the controlled crash that is inevitable when you hop out of a perfectly good aircraft. This technique is called a “PLF” short for “Parachute Landing Fall”. Being somewhat risk adverse and allergic to pain, I opted to be a “leg” or ground bound troop in my military career. In spite of this clever attempt to defeat the laws of nature, paratroopers get hurt, a lot. Airborne troops are accorded a special status among Centurions, and a few extra bucks called “jump pay”. I admire them, but chose to join the fight in a helicopter or ground conveyance. I should have gone airborne, a PLF would have come in handy these days.

Old people should never be in a hurry. We have enough problems remembering things and navigating through life. My contemporaries understand this. When you hurry, bad things happen, like falling and breaking stuff. I was in a hurry back in May of 2022 when I tangled with a dog blanket and dove headfirst, through a door, onto the garage floor earning a relationship with an orthopedic surgeon in Jefferson City to repair a torn rotator cuff. In scenic Tennessee, I was hurrying again to break down our RV and hit the road. A one inch edge on a concrete pad caught my foot and I dove onto the pad, trying to break the fall with my right hand, which is attached to my right arm which is attached to my rebuilt rotator cuff. I knew instantly that I had reversed the work of the surgeon, telling Sharon, rather graphically, I had injured the shoulder again. Yesterday, another pleasant orthopedic surgeon after perusing an ugly MRI, sat down in front of me and began with, “you have two massive, complete tears that are “not repairable”. I suspected such as I have been in constant pain since the event.

The doctor explained that surgery is indicated, something called a “reverse total shoulder replacement”. The reverse part is the ball is implanted into the clavicle and the “socket” into the humerus or upper arm bone. The recovery will run from six months to a year, and if successful, will give me the pain free (or close) use of my arm again, but my hopes of being a Major league hurler are dashed.

Why am I writing this? To illicit sympathy, no. To reveal my tendencies to leave my feet unexpectedly, no. Rather, I am offering “boughten learning” as my old Sergeant described as the best learning. For the love of God, guard against falls diligently. It’s physics folks. Mass in motion expends energy coming to a stop, that energy will play hell with folks who are gradually fossilizing. If you are right handed, try shaving left handed, or cutting a steak one handed, or showering one handed, or taking care of other bodily functions with your off hand. It ain’t pretty. Falls happen quickly and unexpectedly, as in the case of a dear friend’s father who got caught up in his daughters train walking her to the marriage alter, did the dance of death trying not to fall and was saved by a man in the front row who jumped up and caught him before he crashed into a pew. (it was me that caught him…..).

Be careful….please. Our ranks are thinning, please do not check out in a fall, or break something important.

SR