Accident prone?...who?...me?

2010 was a record year for me. I’ve always been accident prone. I started a long history of being accident prone at a very young age when my mother heard a scream from the garden and rushed out to find me hanging by my knicker elastic from the apple tree – they really knew how to make knicker elastic in those days!

Since then I’ve gained two scars on my brow line by running into a worktop as a toddler, and standing on a chair to reach the doorknob to open a door – the door opened inwards!; ridden my bike into hedges, roller-skated into walls and fallen off horses; fused the whole security system at my first job at the push of a button; broken my kneecap by getting my right foot caught behind my left foot walking up the garden path; and so it went on. My first real boyfriend, on hearing I couldn’t go to the party that weekend, immediately asked ‘what have you done now?’ – we’d only been going out for a month!

Last year however, was a record-breaker for falls. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ill, there’s no medical problem - I've been checked out and it's official, I’m just accident prone, careless, daft! Ok, two were a little odd but nothing to worry about, the rest were just down to stupidity.

The first was at the beginning of the year, one of the odd ones. I’d been looking for something on a top shelf at work, turned round and my legs just gave way, I slumped onto my knees then onto all fours and felt pretty stupid grovelling on the floor in the middle of the office.

The second was in April. I went to Alexandria, Egypt to stay with friends and slipped on a wet floor in the middle of a busy market landing flat on my back. So humiliating in a foreign country but especially in one that puts a premium on modesty and decorum for women – thank God I was wearing trousers.

The third came within a week of getting back from Egypt. I’d got on the scales, always a nerve-wracking experience, and tripped up the step in the bathroom putting them back in place. I fell on the scales gouging one corner into my shin (I still have the mark), banged my head on the sink and ricked my neck, whacked my arm and shoulder on the bidet and badly skinned a knee.

The fourth was the second odd one. I felt even more stupid as I came down the steps from the bank and sank on all fours in the high street for no reason. I must have looked drunk because no-one stopped to help me.

The fifth was a comedy routine. I was helping a friend with her raised vegetable beds. I tripped on a board, staggered off-balance over the bed, down the other side, tripped again on the next raised area and landed spread-eagled, face down in well-manured soil.

The sixth was again at work. As I got up from my desk one foot caught the drawer, pulling it open, that blocked the other foot and momentum sent me headfirst over the drawer, bashing my head and twisting my neck on a rail on my way down to a shelf where I wrenched by shoulder before ending up on the floor in the middle of the office – again!

The seventh was in the week leading up to Christmas. Following more than one mishap in the bathroom we decided to remove the step and replace the suite. The old bath had been removed and was in the drive, part-filled with rubble and a hefty topping of snow waiting for the job to be finished and a skip to be hired. I was clearing the snow off the roof of my car with a broom, forgot the bath was there, knocked into it and landed face-down in the bath bruising shins and arms, and again jerking my back and neck.

So that was 2010. Seven falls in 12 months. Thank goodness that year was over, 2011 has started and is bound to be a better one. Hah!

On New Year’s day I backed away from the sink to allow my brother room to drain the boiling water from some vegetables. Caught the back of my legs on the dishwasher door that I’d carelessly left open, fell backwards over the door smashing my legs and lower back on the door and landing on my shoulders and head on the concrete floor with an almighty crack– at least, it sounded like an almighty crack from the inside! So there I was, stunned, one leg still propped up on the dishwasher waiting for the pain to subside. My brother said he didn’t mean to be callous or anything but he’d got these boiling pans and dinner to deal with but if I wanted some help getting up, let him know – which made my father hide his face to keep from showing he was laughing when he heard! Bless them both!

So now I’m looking for a clothes designer who specialises in bubble wrap and cotton wool…