A Fear of Falling?

I was asked during a recent doctor’s appointment if I fear falling.

I hesitated before answering, worried that I was being set up. After all, I’d earlier been given a cognitive test to check my memory.

It had been years since I’d seen a doctor and, during that time I’d aged enough that now the exam seemed to be focused on my mental acuity instead of any physical abilities I once had.

I feared a wrong answer might result in me being sent to a home.

“Of course, I fear falling,” I snapped. “It’s winter in Montana. There’s snow and ice on the ground. Who doesn’t worry about falling?”

I neglected to mention the falls that worry me have changed. No longer quite as reckless as I once was, there’s much less chance I’ll topple off a cliff while elk hunting or get knocked off my pins in a bar fight. I rarely walk logs anymore to cross creeks, and I’ve quit carrying whole sheets of plywood on my back.

I’m at an age where I rarely run, which has certainly reduced the number of times I hit the ground. Trotting to keep up with the dogs is still in my playbook, but I realize the risks and don’t often make that call.

I try to walk every day, however, the weather has even made walking hazardous.

Chaining up my boots for yesterday’s jaunt, I hadn’t gone four blocks before turning back to the house. Ice under the snow caused me to lose my balance twice, and it was only a matter of time before I fell.

And falls, I‘ve discovered, hurt a lot more than they used to, especially in the cold.

But I wasn’t going to share any of that with my doctor. I was having a hard enough time trying to remember the three words she told me to remember during the cognitive test. If I started telling her about all my falls I’d be in a chair aerobics class before you can say “Careful there, that looks slick.”

So, yes, I fear falling. I just don’t think I’m quite ready for a home.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]