The last time, well I’m not entirely sure, but I assume it was a semi-intentional fall (ballance was lost and falling looked like the best way to handle it).
Most spectacular, a misstep on a mountain side resulted in a 200 ft vertical slide.
On my very first day of community college a decade ago I took a spectacular “turtle fall” down a flight of outdoor cement stairs in front of six million people.
I was wearing an over packed green backpack and at the stop of the stairs it pulled me backward and I bumped down about 30 stairs on my back. As I was headed down I remember thinking “wow, I must really look like a turtle on its back!” When I reached the end of my spectacular run some guy ran over and said “are you okay – you looked just like a turtle!”
Not hurt though, saved by my shell.
Glad to be of service!
And;
What the hell! There’s an ad at the end of this thread for foot sprain. That’s not coincidence, is it?
That’s scary.
I haven’t fallen down today, although the day isn’t quite over. I fall off the curb regularly. Gravity is my arch mortal enemy.
Personal best was last fall, when I was coming in from the garden. I stood at the top of the cement steps, shook out my umbrella, and steped in the water.
It was like a movie - feet straight out in front of me, landed on my butt, down 6 steps I went. It was another one of those slow motion things - “Wow”, I thought, at that initial impact. “This is going to be really bad! I wonder what’ll happen when I get to the bottom step!”
Very long story somewhat shorter, I walked to the subway (1/2 a mile) so I could go to the hospital, and then found out I fractured my pelvis, or as we liked to say, I broke my ass. It felt about as good as you’d imagine. I was on crutches for about 6 weeks.
This made me laugh out loud. Just the calm reflectiveness.
Man, I never realized I was such a fan of slapstick. These posts are making me laugh! (because, of course, everyone is ok…)
I’ve been trying to think of a recent spectacular fall, but could it be that I am getting more agile these days?
Anyway my most spectacular fall was a year or two ago, while getting out of a hot tub, ass-naked in the middle of the night. Missed the step and landed on my hands and knees on the pavement. Only I thought “don’t land on your knees” and ended up saving my left knee at the cost of my foot. I somehow managed to scrape the top of my foot off. I was soaking wet and covered in blood. Ruined the mood, itelluwhat.
So now I have a permanent 1"x3" purple scar on the top of my left foot. I couldn’t wear shoes for a month. I keep trying to think of cool excuses for my scar but I am bad at lying so “I fell out of the hot tub” is the best I can do.
ZipperJJ, that is easy. You’re almost there. “I fell out of the hot tub…yeah, we were getting it on, and things got really wild, and we were upside down, and next thing I know, I was falling out of the tub.”
Or something like that.
Four times, as an adult.
Twice when I was out and about when I shouldn’t have been (sick, but had to do some things), and I passed out. The first one, I broke my left ring finger and the doc had to cut off my wedding ring. The second one, I was given IV fluids. I guess my BP was really low, 60/40 or something.
Third time I tripped on a plastic floor mat in our office kitchen and went head-first into a refrigerator. Had a nice bump for awhile.
The last time was last May and I broke my hip. I’m still not sure if the hip broke and I fell, or if the fall caused the break. I suspect the former (osteoporosis).
It’s turned me into a bit of an old lady. I don’t go out if it’s icy, and I take steps one at a time. I can’t kneel or squat and I make hubby take the laundry baskets upstairs. Gardening this summer is gonna be a bitch.
I feel lucky though. People didn’t used to survive hip fractures.
Klutzy Dopers – drink your milk! And skinny women Dopers over 40 – get a bone density test!
The little spills I had skateboarding don’t count since falling is an integral part of skating and you’re padded up and ready for it. But the last real fall incurred whilst walking on my own two feet was a couple of New Year’s Eves ago in Gothenburg. I was walking from a party back to the city center, accompanied by a local musician whom I had only just met (he and I had a lot of mutual friends and had heard a lot about each other prior to that, so we were still in that phase of sorting out reputation from reality, if you catch my drift). Anyway, we were sharing the last beer between us as we walked and I had possession of it when my feet went out from under me at the top of a big hill. Ended up skidding what felt like a couple of yards downhill like a human bobsled and of course the beer went rolling down to the bottom of the hill. As I got up, slowly and painfully and crimson from embarassment, all I could mutter was “I lost the beer, sorry.” The guy promptly replied, “the HELL with the beer, are YOU ok, honey?” He became my new best friend due in no small part to his reaction.
In the past year, I’ve had three serious falls.
- While tying stuff onto a truck, I climbed up onto the bed. Pulling the strap tightly, I realised too late that th hooked end wasnt attached to anything, causing me to stumble back against the sideboard, then tumble across and land head first on the ground.
Where I stayed till someone gathered me, about a half hour later.
-
From the top of the racking system at work, where I hac climbed to the top to retrieve something, forgoing such conveniences as a ladder. Foot slipped, Bubastis went on a twenty foot freefall onto solid concrete. Another little snooze.
-
And this was the worst; Standing on a chair to reach the top shelf, foot slips, and I’m Folded in half across the back of the chair with three broken ribs.
All of which goes a long way to explain why me not so good at math no more.
If someone had a camera on me, I’d win ‘Funniest Home Videos’.
I have an 80 pound Siberian Husky that I walk in the woods every day. I have her on a retractable 30 foot lead. She runs 60 foot sprints by hanging back on the path until I give a gentle tug, flying past me, and stopping just in time so as not to yank me. (It amazes me that without looking, she knows where that 30 foot mark is.) Anyway, up ahead I spot a cat sauntering along the path. My dog does not. I think, let me hurl a rock in that direction so the dog doesn’t yank my arm off when she spies the cat. I take a pitchers stance, cock my arm, raise my left foot…and the dog bolts. In my one legged stance, I am totally off balance and I do a 360, landing on my back. A 360! I am laying there, amazed at two things. I am not hurt, and I never let the lead go. Lesson learned, never throw rocks, and never take my eyes off the dog.
:wally 
Man, and I thought I was a klutz. Some of you guys have got me beat by miles.
The last time I fell wasn’t this winter, and it wasn’t last winter, it was the winter before that. (I am sooo proud I have managed to make it through a winter without falling even once! And there’s no ice out right now, so hopefully I haven’t jinxed myself.) Slipped on a patch of ice and bam.
First night of Hanukkah last month, now, there were some close calls. It had rained all day and then temperatures fell below freezing after dark, so the sidwalks were pretty treacherous as I walked home from my friend’s house. There might have been windmilling arms involved.
I didn’t fall, but I managed to do something rotten to my right foot when I apparently forgot how to walk one day in October 2004. I took a step on the side of my foot and pulled a muscle. My foot swelled up to twice its normal size, it turned all sorts of interesting colors, and I limped for a couple months. The most humiliating thing was telling people how I’d injured myself. “Yup, just walking. No, I didn’t trip. Yeah, it was on evenly paved cement. Yep, I’m an idiot.”
How could I ever forget this one?
I slipped in a hot tub at a resort in Lake Tahoe. It didn’t hurt ( it was an underwater incident) but I knew I had poked a buttock with a rounded bench edge.
Driving home the next day (500 miles) I began to notice an ache in the butt region. By the time I got home I could hardly bear to sit down. The next day my entire right buttock was dark red and purple. A visit to urgent care yielded that I had a hematoma bruise (which immediately, of course, became known as my “buttoma.”)
I can’t believe how something that didn’t hurt when I did it turned out to hurt so much: I spent four days lying on my stomach with ice on the buttoma.
I tend to fall over a lot but nothing spectacular - though I do have one story.
I was in the hospital having a blood test. Now, i’m really not happy with needles, so I tend to get very edgy and everything before I get stuck with one - huge adrenaline rush. But I got through with that, and even managed to turn my head and look at the blood coming out of my arm - I was thinking hey, maybe this has finally got rid of my fear!
On the way out, i’m feeling sort of woozy. Normally after an injection or blood test I sit down for about ten minutes or so, just to let the adrenaline get back to normal without me getting all tunnel-visioned and fainty - but no problems so far. We’re just coming up to the door outside, which requires walking down a small corridor and then turning left. Just as i’m about to turn, I faint. However, my body keeps moving forwards and I walk straight into the wall, according to witnesses, with a resounding crack as my head collides.
It’s at this point I wake up. I find myself in midst of falling down, still all tunnel visiony and confused. I hit the floor - and faint again.
I ended up having to go back into the hospital so they could check me for concussion. :rolleyes: 
I fall fairly regularly. It’s a special gift. There are all sorts of family stories about how I’ve kept the gods appeased by regularly sacrificing my dignity on the altar of gravity.
The last two were this past month, so January should be pretty good.
First, my brother, a good friend, and I were on our way into the new Ikea in Frisco, TX. I’d been dying to go, but one does not shop Ikea alone, and I hadn’t talked anyone else into until then. Somehow, while walking across an island in the parking lot, my foot managed to turn under just as I put my weight on it, and down I went - hands and knees. Skinned my knee through my jeans, tore up my palms and pulled things in my ankle. Our friend - the legally blind guy* - ends up helping me up. Yes, I have a harder time navigating unfamiliar territory than the guy whose vision is something like 20/2000. :rolleyes: Turns out, Ikea keeps a first aid guy on staff, so I got my ankle wrapped by a very nice person who also gave me two of those chemical ice packs.
Second time was just last Sunday. I was over at a friend’s house, helping her and her husband get some stuff picked up and new bookshelves put together. The friend’s been battling depression, the husband’s been working full time, and the three kids were only just starting to come down off their Christmas high, so the house looked like a Smurf war zone, replete with blue bodies and craters. In the hall, I’d noticed there was a large piece of tissue paper lying on the hardwood floor. It occurred to me that this might be hazardous. I forgot about it until I stepped on it, and my foot catapulted behind me, dumping me on one knee and two hands. The bruise on my knee is still coming up. sigh
All I can do is console myself that if it weren’t for my brave sacrifices of dignity, the world as we know it would surely be destroyed.
I’m more of the trip-followed-by-spectacular-save kinda girl. Strange, but I’m almost cat-like in that I seem to avoid falling by thismuch. Most of the time.
Three weeks ago I went out to get the paper on the front walk in my purple chenille robe and purple slippers (thus resembling an enormous deformed grape) and tripped up the front step, landing on my knees and one hand. On concrete. I had to gather my sleepy wits about me to figure out how to get up. Two bruised and skinned knees, and a sore wrist . . . but no lasting damage.
Most embarrassing fall was last November. I was in downtown Indianapolis, taking pictures of war memorials (we have a lot of them in Indy), and I was getting a shot of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument on the Circle. I stepped backwards, thinking there was no curb, and caught just the edge of the rise. I was wearing a skirt (thank Og I was wearing underwear that day!) and landed in a rather revealing pose. There weren’t too many people around, and I recovered fast and scooted out of there with nothing more than a twisted ankle.
If skiing counts, last tuesday. Damn binding pre-released and put me on my ass. Turns out a piece broke off and the toe is now out of spec. I did a “field” repair and skied the rest of the day. Replaced the toe-piece with a spare (gotta love obselete equipment!)
I hate not having confidence in my equipment.
Reminded me of seeing (for the 1st time) Bode Miller finish his run on one ski.
And he actually skied it, he didn’t simply slide down the hill to safety.
Does that count? 
mangeorge
Every winter, I manage to do at least one very elaborate slippety-slidy fall, usually in situations like I’m running to catch the bus and the caretaker hasn’t had time to spread gravel on the yard or the sidewalk. Two years ago, I was walking past a local pub at around 9 p.m. and suddenly managed a stunning straight-legged complete back flip with windmill arms right in front of the front door. I lay there for a while and then, after determining that I was still alive and semi-functioning, carefully hoisted myself into a standing position. I glanced around to see how my tumble had been received by any passers-by…and found myself staring into the grinning faces of 4 men sitting at a table by the window. They were holding pieces of paper. “5.7”, “5.7”, “5.6”, “5.9”.
It took about five minutes for me to recover enough to be able to continue my walk.
delphica’s story reminds me of my own face-down fall. A few years ago, I was working at a playground as an assistant. It was the second-to-last day of my month-long employment and I was clearing up outside toys about 15 minutes before the playground closed for the day. I had a bicycle in both hands and was steering them toward the shed when, in some strange fashion, my leg got caught up between the two hind weels of one of the bikes. I fell straight forward and was unable to break my fall with my hands because my co-ordination skills do not extend to Releasing Holds In Times Of Need.
It really was like going through things in slow motion. “What’s this? My foot seems to have gotten caught…Oh. Oh, dear. It seems I’m falling… Goodness. It seems my hands are still attached to these bikes. I don’t suppose–well, no, there won’t, in fact, be enough time to let go…So, therefore, let me see, the thing breaking my fall would be…Ah yes. My face. Oh. …Well, this should be painful. Ah. Here comes the ground.” crack
I landed flat on my face, chipping one tooth and scratching the rest of my face and chest up pretty badly. The strange thing was, after the fall, I just got up and took the bikes to the shed. It was only when I was coming out for another round that the pain started up and I noticed “Gee, I should probably do something about this.” Luckily, I was able to get the tooth repaired the next morning–the mother of one of the girls frequenting the playground was a dentist operating a few blocks over. It’s now the only part of my body that isn’t original auRa.