I was only going to check the mail. I hadn’t stuck my nose outside since the snowstorms of the previous few days.

They’d done their worst and finally, the sun sparkled like diamonds on several inches of freshly fallen snow. I donned my jacket and winter boots and stuck the mail key in my pocket before heading out. I cleared a path from the front door to the city sidewalk, which also needed clearing to avoid being fined.

The snow on the road was hard packed after cars and buses had all but turned it to solid ice. I glanced up and down the street, noticing that the city sidewalks were like patchwork quilts where some home-owners had already been out shovelling while others had yet to bother.

After doing my best to clear the sidewalk, I crossed the road and headed toward the community mail boxes about eight houses down on the other side of the street. Retrieving the mail key from my pocket, I stepped gingerly across the slippery road, remembering two falls on the ice that resulted in concussions and other minor injuries.

About ten feet from the mailboxes, I passed a young lad of about 13 who was shovelling the sidewalk most unenthusiastically. After pulling out the contents of the mailbox and locking it, I headed back toward home. I crossed the street again — ever so carefully — noticing bare sidewalk that was damp from remaining snow melting in the afternoon sun.

“Ah! Perfect!” I thought, nervous on the icy road. “Much safer than walking on this stuff!”

Walking like a penguin and taking teeny tiny steps to avoid falling, I made it to the sidewalk with great relief and continued on my way home.

And then it happened.

One moment, I was vertical, contemplating the hot bath I would take as soon as I got home. And the next, I heard a crack! as I hit the ground.

I’d fallen before. And each of those times, I was aware I was falling. On this occasion, I wasn’t. I was upright and then I was on the sidewalk. Guess I’d hit a thin patch of black ice under the dampness from melting snow. I went down so fast, I didn’t have a chance to react or even notice it was happening.

I couldn’t move. I had landed on my right side, scraping my hand and damaging my knee, which was bent under me. Excruciating pain tore through the knee. I glanced at it and through my soft yoga pants, I could see something was horribly wrong. Pieces of bone were protruding where they shouldn’t have been.

I looked across the street and down three or four houses to where the lad had been shovelling. He was still there and had his back to me. I began screaming, “Help! Help me! I’ve broken my knee!”

He didn’t turn around.

I screamed louder. “Please help me! I can’t get up! I’ve broken my knee!”

Still, he ignored me.

I hadn’t noticed if he was wearing earphones when I’d passed him just minutes before but I had to keep screaming and waving, hoping he would turn around at some point and notice me. I tried dragging myself but my leg would not budge.

After about five minutes, during which I continued to shout and wave frantically, a man came out of the house and I could hear him reprimanding the boy. I thought, “Oh, thank heaven! Someone heard me and the kid is getting chewed out for having ignored me!”

But nope. The man and the boy were obviously in the midst of an argument that went on for another minute or two. The man was facing me. I continued shouting, waving my arm frantically as I lay in the water, unable to move.

With final harsh words for the kid, the man stormed off in the opposite direction. And the kid never did turn toward me.

I continued to lie there on the cold, wet sidewalk at 1.00 in the afternoon on a sunny day in suburbia. People were at work or tucked into their houses with windows closed on a chilly day. I shouted and waved, desperately praying that someone might see or hear me.

A couple of cars drove by. No one stopped. How on earth could they not have seen me?? It was a quiet residential street.

Panic set it, adding to the shock and trauma. How long will I have to lie here before someone finds me?

After several more minutes, I looked up the street toward home. A few houses past it, I saw a man shovelling — about eight houses beyond where I was crumpled on the sidewalk. I waved and shouted and thank heaven, he saw me and hurried toward me. I was sobbing with relief as he made his way to me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately describe how terrified I’d been until finally, someone was coming to help.

Just as he arrived, a Co-op Medical Supply van pulled up and stopped. A man got out, asking if I needed help and miraculously, he had a wheelchair in his van.

It took both of these men a few minutes to get me up; my leg was completely useless. They wheeled me home through the snowy sidewalk and with one of them on either side of me, they helped me up the steps and inside. I’d been tightly clutching the mail throughout my ordeal and dropped it on the floor as soon as I got in the house.

My two saviours, Mike and Hani, got me settled on the couch. I knew I’d need to call an ambulance…there was no way my knee wasn’t badly broken. On top of the disturbing deformity I’d seen in the seconds after I fell, the swelling was already shocking.

The ambulance arrived within about ten minutes and the two lovely young paramedics did their best to calm and reassure me as they got me sorted and into the back of their rig.

I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow about what happened next but it starts with “I was hoping to just get a cast and go home” and it ends with “Ain’t no way in hell this could be repaired without surgery.”

Turned out that when I fell, I’d torn the quadriceps muscle right off the bone, and with such force that it ripped my kneecap in two. Must have been quite a yank to break bone. And I thought I had no muscles. 🤣

X ray of author’s knee with pieces of patella floating like planets in a vast sea of swelling!

With our busy and bursting hospitals, I spent a couple of days in E.R. (Thurs. afternoon to Saturday early morning) before they had a bed and could admit me for surgery.

As a homeopath and energy healer, I am hard pressed to even take Tylenol so the very thought of this impending misery with pain meds and anaesthesia were completely freaking me out. I detest general anaesthesia but was also terrified of a spinal (having heard the horrors of them many years ago when they were first “a thing”).

The anaesthesiologist came and talked to me about the options and reassured me that those old “spinal horrors” were a thing of the past. I trusted him and I have to tell you, it was so quick and easy I was shocked! A life-threatening case came up just after I had it done so I had to wait a little longer, and by the time it was my turn they had to do it again.

Since arriving at the E.R. I’d been in a heavy, padded leg brace with metal down the sides. It needed constant readjusting as it would slide down my leg, despite nearly cutting off the circulation with the tight velcro straps! I was told I’d need to wear it till my first post-surgery appointment a couple of weeks later.

The surgeon reattached the muscle to the bone and repaired my kneecap before stapling me back together.

Photo by author: X ray of happy kneecap and pretty staples to accessorize!

Photo by author - my view, so my thigh is at the bottom of the pic with my knee at the top

I find it fascinating that they use staples…(although it wasn’t too fascinating getting them out 17 days later. OUCH! So pinchy! But at least it was fast!)

The amount of bruising was also fascinating. Hm. Let’s call it body art. 😂

Photo by author: Still pretty swollen — and even my foot is pretty colours!

So…I spent a few days in hospital and was grateful to give them back a bed and get home. I would be by myself, which was a bit scary, to be honest, but a friend got me set me up so I could do it. She did some shopping and food prep for me so I could just grab food out of the fridge, put it in a bag and hobble with the walker back to the couch (where I was and am eating and sleeping).

She came for a day on the weekends to wash my hair, do my laundry, top me up on prepped food, take out the rubbish etc. so I could manage for another week on my own.

I got a new brace last week — this one a bigger misery than the first because it’s solid hard plastic down both sides, making it impossible to get comfortable and sleep. But it is hinged and has been set to allow up to 30 degrees bend in my knee (needs to be locked at zero when standing or walking).

Photo by author: Better make friends with this thing, gotta wear it 24/7 for a few months…!!!

So that’s where I am right now. Hobbling at home, resting a lot, not sleeping much — gnawing pain in my hip from muscles being forced to do new, weird things 24/7 that they’re not used to doing — (and I’m often in tears much of the night from pain and lack of sleep) — and this stupid brace. I mean, uh, my new Bestie! — that being this brace that lets me get around minimally with a walker…I’m exhausted! Got a long recovery ahead (three to six months?! 🤦🏻‍♀)️, and physio eventually but not for some time yet.

Could have been so much worse though.

But I’ve gotta tell you…I can’t wait till I can have a shower or a bath. This sponge business sucks! Can’t get the brace wet and can’t take it off…

Astonishing how one nano second can blow up your whole life. Nearly four weeks since I fell and I’m still coming to grips with how much this has changed my life and will do for quite a while yet.

Not to mention the overwhelming fear of falling again…I don’t know how to ever get past that one.

Oh, and the best bit. Or maybe the worst. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry…but when I got home from hospital and finally had a chance to look at the mail I’d dumped in the front hall that day — that pile of mail I’d collected right before this happened — every single piece of it was junk!!

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Spiritual Arts Mentor and Master Teacher, Liberty Forrest, guides you in discovering who you are, why you’re here, and how to follow that path.

How To Blow Up Your Life in One Split Second

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