Free Fallin’


Out and about in Johnson City, Lisa Ann couldn’t resist suggesting I post with the Fall Hazard sign. Yes, my people know me.

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

With cooler temps and the holidays just around the corner, fall is top of mind with folks right now. But in our house, the word “fall” has an entirely different meaning.

I fall. A lot. I mean that I am walking along, not a care in the world and I am a living example of Sir Isaac Newton’s gravitational theory. And I can be stone-cold sober and still fall. I don’t know if my center of gravity is half a bubble off or what. I do know that I’m always in a hurry to get where I’m going, and I tend to multi-task, so maybe I just move too fast for my own good at times. Who knows?

A few years ago, I fell off of my 2” heel rushing into the gym to see baby boy’s basketball game. I didn’t completely hit the ground this time – caught myself on a bleacher – but still had a significant amount of pain in my ankle. I did as any momma would do: forged ahead, climbed the bleachers and cheered for the team.

Fast forward two weeks, and my ankle was still huge and the most unattractive shade of gray imaginable. I begrudgingly make an appointment with an orthopedic doc frankly because I was tired of wearing ugly shoes. My foot wouldn’t fit in my cute shoes and that was particularly vexing to me. To top it off, it was winter, and boots were an absolute no-go. And I have really cute boots. Plus, the color thing. And no, you can’t put concealer all over your ankle to make it appear more normal. I may or may not have tried.

The sweet doc walked in, and he immediately said, “You look awfully familiar. Have we met?” Turns out this particular doc had modeled for me in a JEWELS fashion show a few years ago, so yes, we had met. I explained my dilemma – the inability to wear cute shoes, the walking dead color. He just grinned, and said, “Well that’s because your ankle is broken.”

He showed me the break on the x-ray, because I really wasn’t buying the broken bone thing. After all, if it was broken, wouldn’t it hurt much worse? Doc was flabbergasted that I had walked for two weeks on said ankle without meds. “It looks extremely painful. You haven’t taken any medications? Doesn’t it hurt?” he queried.  “I have a husband, two teenage kids, two dogs and run my own business,” I replied. “I’m accustomed to pain. This isn’t that bad. It’s just the shoe thing that’s on my nerves.”

Sweet doc proceeded with the cast discussion, to which I immediately began my counterclaim. In the end we negotiated down to a boot, anti-inflammatories and very specific detailed instructions on wearing the boot 24/7 unless I was bathing or sleeping.

The boot continued my saga of ugly footwear, and it was gala season. Fortunately, long dresses helped camouflage the hideous creation. Even when baby girl and I applied copious amounts of rhinestones, it was still ugly. But at least it sparkled.

My people are aware of my propensity for falling. It’s the subject of many remarks – at my expense – of course. I’ve fallen off of the steps of a historic hotel in Durango. Good news is Lisa Ann was with me, and I immediately threw my arm up with my bag in tow and yelled, “Save my purse!” before I hit the ground. Broke my ankle then too, but of course, Lisa Ann caught my purse and saved it. Priorities.

Happy fall y’all – and hope your fall doesn’t include any plummeting mishaps! See y’all next week – on the porch!


Patti Parish-Kaminski

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