Drama at Home!
Nick fell down the stairs last night. He was going down to fix the lightbulbs in the living room when he missed his footing at the very top of the stairs and went tumbling and bouncing all the way down.
Now, anyone who's ever been to our house or seen the average Stoke-on-Trent staircase will know that they're a) rather narrow, and b) rather steep. So you can imagine what poor Nick, being over six feet tall and rather broad indeed, was like by the time he reached the bottom and had his descent stopped by a handy wall.
Actually, it could have been a lot worse. As he was falling, Nick instinctively tried to twist his body so that he would land on the centre of his back as though he was taking a flat-back bump in wrestling. If he hadn't done that I expect he would have cracked his head open or broken at least one limb; as it was, he ended up sprawled in a half-sitting, half-lying position at the foot of the stairs.
In the end, he badly bruised his elbow (and banged his humerus), got a large purple briuse on his upper thigh, bruised his tailbone and twanged his Achilles tendon. He also scared the cats witless (Mac ran and hid in the kitchen when he heard the noise, and Jelli spent half an hour trying to see him from her perch in her room and crying) and kind of flattened a box that was also at the bottom of the stairs.
Today he's spending most of his time in bed, as now that the shock has well and truly worn off his body is phoning in numerous complaints and he can't move very well.
I'm just surprised - I always thought I'd be the one to go flying down the stairs, given my clumsiness and ocasional dizzy spells...
Now, anyone who's ever been to our house or seen the average Stoke-on-Trent staircase will know that they're a) rather narrow, and b) rather steep. So you can imagine what poor Nick, being over six feet tall and rather broad indeed, was like by the time he reached the bottom and had his descent stopped by a handy wall.
Actually, it could have been a lot worse. As he was falling, Nick instinctively tried to twist his body so that he would land on the centre of his back as though he was taking a flat-back bump in wrestling. If he hadn't done that I expect he would have cracked his head open or broken at least one limb; as it was, he ended up sprawled in a half-sitting, half-lying position at the foot of the stairs.
In the end, he badly bruised his elbow (and banged his humerus), got a large purple briuse on his upper thigh, bruised his tailbone and twanged his Achilles tendon. He also scared the cats witless (Mac ran and hid in the kitchen when he heard the noise, and Jelli spent half an hour trying to see him from her perch in her room and crying) and kind of flattened a box that was also at the bottom of the stairs.
Today he's spending most of his time in bed, as now that the shock has well and truly worn off his body is phoning in numerous complaints and he can't move very well.
I'm just surprised - I always thought I'd be the one to go flying down the stairs, given my clumsiness and ocasional dizzy spells...