Just one of those things...

When I pulled myself out of bed Thursday morning, it seemed that my day was going to be filled with the usual stress that I absolutely do not look forward to, as well as the usual joys that I've come to depend on to help me cope with the stress that has plagued me for the last few years. But there was something different waiting on me in the afternoon hours. Something that hardly ever happens... Something I work hard to avoid... Something that I hate...

I work from home. So, I typically spend most of my time at the house. That's really not something I've come to like since I've been working from home. However, the total convenience of earning money in the comfort of your home is so attractive, there are only a few things in life I would trade my work at home option in to gain.

Well, last Thursday was one of those unusual days that I had to go into the office. After my niece called to let me know what time she was coming to pick me up, I slipped on some denim jeans, a blue, three quarter length sweater, and some high heel, black boots. Next, I flat-ironed my hair, applied my make-up, slipped my jewelry on my ears and wrist, and sprayed my favorite perfume around my neck. My goal to look the part, even if I didn't feel the part, was achieved.

After leaving the office, I asked my niece to take me to the bank so that I could take care of some of my financial affairs. She said yes, but made it clear that she had no idea where the bank was that I needed to go to. I called my sister to get directions. But instead of giving directions, she eagerly agreed to take me herself. So, my niece brought me home, where I could get out of her passenger seat to switch to my sister's passenger seat to go to the bank.

After handling my financial affairs with the teller, I slipped my cash and receipts in my pocket, grabbed my sister's arm, and exited the building, already processing how I needed to split my money to cover the household bills. When I stepped out of the lobby of the branch, I could feel the warmth of the radiant sun shining across my face. Even though it's winter, it was 79 degrees that particular day. So, I was enjoying the unusual warm temperature and the coolness of the wind that brushed against my face.

All of the sudden, without any foreseeable warning, I slipped off the first of several cement stairs in front of the bank. It happened so quickly. One second I was walking, thinking about all the bills I needed to pay, but still enjoying the Houston weather. And then the next second, I slipped off the stair and went tumbling down, and quite, quite fast and hard, I might add.

I tried to use my hands to break my fall, but gravity took over and demanded that I continue to roll down the stairs. My mind was racing as I was tumbling. I didn't want to hit my face on that concrete. I didn't want to break a bone. I didn't want people around me that were watching to think of me as the pitiful blind lady. It was all so terrible. Finally, after about seven seconds, my body rested on the bottom step. My sister grabbed me and helped me off the ground.

Before I could get home, my body starting aching. My leg, back, and shoulder were bruised up pretty badly. Thankfully, I had no broken bones. I took some pain meds and got in the bed to rest my aching muscles.

That night, my family kept asking me over and over what happened. They wanted to blame my sister or the bank. I had to explain to all of them it was just an accident. And while I don't typically have accidents because I'm blind, I really think that this particular fall was a result of not being able to see.

So, there was no point in being mad at my sister who was guiding me. There's no point in getting a lawyer to try to sue the bank. There's no point in even being mad at myself. It's just one of those things that comes with being blind. Sometimes you're going to bump into things, stumble and fall, knock things over, and lose something that's right in front of you. It is what it is.