There are some days I feel like I'm the luckiest person in the world. And then there are days, like the one I am about to describe, where I feel like my luck ran out. As if I'm dragging the bucket across the bottom of a dry well. The wooden container bounces off the stone floor and I find myself rattled by the emptiness. June 17th, my most recent unlucky day, definitely shook me.

      It was Father's Day so I was rushing around to get ready for a matinee showing of the Han Solo movie. This was a treat for my Dad since we both adore Star Wars.( The man practically raised me on sci-fi movies, George Lucas' epic space opera in particular.) That day also happened to be a busy one in my house for other reasons. I live in a large, shared home with multiple roommates. Such is life in a metropolis with horrendously over-inflated housing costs. Anyways, one of my roommates was moving out that Sunday morning. Two of my other housemates as well as my partner had gone with our former roommate to help him unpack the moving van. The only people around were me and one other housemate in a home that comfortably supported six people at it's most full. I have to admit, we were lucky to get this place. It's located in a great area, close to my partner's work, and is quite modernly finished. It's also the largest house I've ever lived in. While living here, it was very easy for me to close myself off away from my five other housemates without worry. I liked that about my home. Until today.

      Around noon, while waiting for my partner to return from the move, I had a shower. With the water running, I sang my heart out to some Top-40 played on a Bluetooth speaker that sat on the bathroom counter. It was linked to my phone that lay next to it. Normally, I wouldn't bring my phone into the washroom—too easy for it to get wet—but to listen to music I had no choice. Because if the speaker was apart from my phone, it had a habit of jumping and skittering through songs like the device was having a stroke. Thus, I placed both electronics side by side on the counter to enjoy some lovely pop beats while I got clean. So, with music blasting, I danced and swayed while I washed. Wiggling to the beat while I shower is a guilty pleasure I can't help but indulge in.

      See, now you're thinking I slipped in the shower. No, no. I have an anti-slip mat. With my bad legs, it would be really stupid of me not to own one of those.

      No, I finished my shower and climbed out just fine. I toweled off, put on my terrycloth robe and ventured out into the bedroom to get my outfit ready. Whilst I was digging through my sock drawer, I realized that I needed to text my father something. I don't remember whether it was about parking or something else in regards to the movie. That doesn't matter. But the problem was that my phone wasn't in the bedroom. No, it was still next to the speaker in the bathroom because of the shitty connection. So, determined to reach my Dad before he left his house, I turned on my heel and plodded back into the bathroom rather hastily.

      As I shuffled, my foot missed the bathmat by an inch. I was still wet. The skin of my feet was just damp enough to slide across the hard floor like it was made of ice. Further worsening the situation, my knee joint was weak from repeated minor dislocations this spring. Finally, my knee cap decided, it was time to slide complete off kilter. With no way to steady or support myself, both my legs flew out from under me and I collapsed to the floor in a heap. I landed with all my weight on my left elbow which made a sickening crack as it hit the tile. As a writer, I always wondered what the sound of bones snapping was like. It's not pleasant, like the crackling of a summer bonfire. Nor is it enticing, like the snap of a well-made sugar cookie. No, you see, this sound was gut-wrenching. Hearing it sent a terrible quiver through my spine. Such a sickening noise triggered a nauseous response. I hope I never have to hear it again.

      My first thoughts were mostly curse words. I knew while laying there that I messed up. The pain wasn't immediate. It was this deep, hollow soreness. Moving made it sharp and hot. Frustrated, I lay there for a while as I mentally berated myself. So stupid. I went over the admonishments in my head repeatedly while crumpled up on the floor.

I should've wiped my feet more on the bath mat.
I should've brought my phone out of the bathroom with me on the first trip.
I shouldn't have played music in the bathroom in the first place.

And on and on adnauseum... After a solid minute of being angry with myself, I realized that I couldn't actually get up. Several attempts ended in sobbing agony. Then I wasn't angry anymore. I was scared.

      I tried calling out timidly. Admittedly, I was embarrassed about having fallen.

      "Hey... Can someone help me up?"

      Nothing. After four minutes, I started shouting.

      "Help! I fell!"

      Ten minutes of that still produced nothing. Laying on my smashed elbow was only making the pain more intense. I knew someone had to still be home. Someone needed to be there. Desperate, I started screaming.

      "HELP ME! PLEASE!"

      Still no reply. The tears were flowing freely now. Not just from pain, but I was afraid. The pain was getting stronger and I was worried about how much worse I was making the injury by laying on it. The fear set in hard. I cried, heaving deep sobs over the fact that I did this to myself and that there was no one around to help me. As I wept pathetically, I caught a glimpse of the bright blue of my phone case. It stuck out just a little bit over the edge of the sink counter above my head. Salvation. It took several swings of my free arm, teetering back on my injured elbow, to knock the phone to the floor.

      Two texts messages and one phone call later, over the span of about thirty seconds, my other roommate was bounding up the staircase to my aid. He had been in the kitchen on the other side of our massive house, four doors and a whole floor between us. Everyone else was still out helping clean up after the move. I actually scared my poor partner with the phone call, he dropped everything to get back in his car and race home. But, because of a rare circumstance, in that moment I was totally alone and completely incapable of saving myself. Without my phone, I might've laid there for over an hour or two until my partner returned. My other roommate was planning on heading out after his lunch in the kitchen.

      Anyways, I did have my phone. Even in an unlucky situation, I was still lucky. My roommate came running into the room and helped me up off my elbow. I was a damp, crying, half-naked mess. Once he was sure I was fine and able to move around a little on my own, he left me resting on the bed while I waited for my partner to return. When my partner walked in, breathless and concerned, I had gotten to the point that I was denying my pain and my injury.

      "I'm fine. Really. It's Father's Day! I have to go see Dad."

      My partner didn't really want me to go. He was pretty sure I messed my elbow up bad. Sure, it was swollen. But no cuts, no bleeding. I thought I could survive a two hour movie like that. Who needed to fully straighten their elbow anyway?

      Putting on my t-shirt sure changed my tune. That was some unexpectedly blinding pain. To my partner's delight, I reluctantly went to the hospital and rescheduled the movie with my father.

      Turns out, I managed to break a bone for my first time ever in the fall. My radial head. The doctors told me it was good I came in, because my arm needed to be properly set and placed in a cast to heal. I was really mad at myself the whole time. I still felt super dumb for falling in the first place. My partner would have none of that. He was too kind about it, but I appreciated his support very much.

      That evening, I returned from the hospital with my left arm in a cast and secured to my chest in a tight sling. Stubborn as ever, I still went to an evening showing of the movie with Dad. Surprised him with the cast too. His reaction was almost worth it. After he was done chastising me for not telling him how bad it was, we enjoyed the film. However, I was still sore the whole time. It wasn't the great evening I had planned.




      It's been a couple months now. I'm free of the cast and my elbow is mostly healed. It still aches at night when I roll on my left side. I'm sure it's going to continue to be a pain through Autumn and into Winter. Still, it was an interesting lesson. Sometimes things just happen that are out of your control. Sometimes there's nobody around to save you. And sometimes, when you feel most unlucky, you can still find a little ray of hope. I'm so glad I was able to knock my phone down during that ordeal. I can't imagine how bad it would've been if I laid there for the whole two hours. So while I'm not pleased by all the things that came together for me to break my arm and be trapped on top of it, I don't look back at the memory negatively. When the pain fades, I'm sure it'll be a funny story to tell.

      Though what's really funny is that, ever since I fell, my bluetooth speaker's connection magically improved. No static, no interruption. Just crystal clear, wireless streaming. The whole time we owned the speaker the signal to it had never strong. But then, right after my fall, it suddenly fixes itself. My phone now sits out in the bedroom while I play my shower tunes. Isn't that just freaking perfect?


-Dana.


"Have you ever fallen and hurt yourself as an adult? Did you ever break a bone for the first time later in life? Did you luck run out at an inopportune time? Sound off in the comments below!"