There Was a Big Splash

It finally happened - what Hubby and I have feared for sometime -- falling in the tub.  Because of his poor knees I always thought it would be him.  Tonight, though, I lost traction with my right foot, it slipped under me and I jammed every toe all the way down the length of the tub, my body careened backward, I hit the faucets with a mighty jolt, and rolled over backwards. 

My pride was hurt.  My dignity was lost.  My back, which hit the old tub faucets, screamed.  My foot tried to right itself by having me do the splits.  My cursing was loud and obscene.

After the fall, while I tried to figure out how the heck to get out of the my splayed position, the house was silent.  By the time I had figured out how to get the right leg together with the left, Hubby had finally appeared in the bathroom to see just what stupidity I had achieved this time. 

His immediate reaction was to haul me out of the tub, but I was turned around now, facing the back wall, instead of on my knees, hefting my bulk upright and out onto the dry rug. 

We have shower doors on our tub which means that one side of the tub is always closed off.  I was now in the closed section and it took me a minute to realize that if I just opened the doors and pushed them the other way, I could eventually lift myself out onto dry land -- and not put Hubby into cardiac arrest.

Shoot.  Now I'm bruised and battered.  The foot is swelling while the spot on the back which hit the faucet is turning a lovely shade of purple / green.  And I'm shaking like a leaf.  Falling gracefully is so longer in my play book.  Luckily nothing is irretrievably broken except my self-esteem.