Last week, I pulled off what I now call my latest “dull stunt”—a full-on face-plant in my daughter’s driveway. One moment I was walking, the next I was kissing concrete. My nurse son-in-law patched me up with impressive care, but I still ended up in the ER the next day. Thankfully, no concussion—though my forehead took the brunt of the fall. I did, however, break my nose. Now I look like I lost a bar fight: two shiners, road rash, and a nose that’s more scab than skin. It’s not exactly the kind of excitement I was hoping for this month.
The worst part? I can’t wear my glasses. And without them, I can’t drive. So I’ve been grounded, stuck at home, squinting at everything like a confused mole. I miss the independence, the freedom to run errands or just escape for a bit. My broken nose refuses to cooperate with the frames, and I refuse to risk driving blind. It’s a frustrating limbo—healing slowly, waiting for the swelling to go down, and trying not to bump into furniture. Not my favorite form of entertainment, but I’m learning patience the hard way.
I’m a senior citizen, female, shoe size 6B, and currently rocking the “bruised raccoon” look. I’ve been icing, resting, and avoiding mirrors. The second photo I took shows I’m healing nicely, though I still look like I’ve been through something dramatic. And I have. Falling like that shakes you—not just physically, but emotionally. It reminds you that your body isn’t invincible, that one misstep can change your week. I’ve always been careful, but now I’m extra cautious. Driveways are officially on my watchlist.
What surprised me most was how quickly everything changed. One moment of distraction, one uneven patch of pavement, and boom—down I went. It’s humbling. I’ve always prided myself on being active and alert, but age has its own agenda. My balance isn’t what it used to be, and my skin bruises like ripe fruit. Still, I’m grateful it wasn’t worse. No broken teeth, no concussion, and I didn’t scare my daughter too badly. Just a bruised ego and a temporarily useless nose.
I’ve been joking about it to keep my spirits up. Humor helps. I tell friends I’m auditioning for a role in a boxing movie or testing out Halloween makeup early. They laugh, and so do I—because what else can you do? Healing takes time, and so does adjusting to the reality that your body has limits. I’m trying to be kind to myself, even when I feel ridiculous. And I’m reminding others to be careful. Because if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
So here’s my PSA: watch your step, especially in driveways. Wear good shoes, stay alert, and don’t assume you’re immune to gravity. I may be temporarily sidelined, but I’m still standing—well, sitting, mostly. And I’ll be back behind the wheel as soon as my glasses stop sliding off my swollen nose. Until then, I’ll be here, healing, laughing, and counting the days until I can drive again without looking like a cartoon villain.
