"Down the Chute"
The Stairs Tumble Setback
- May 16, 2007 -

A couple evenings ago, while heading from my office down to the kitchen, once again I took the top step just a little bit off, missed hitting the second step perfect by just a bit more, and on the third step found myself sliding "down the chute" once again.  With such narrow, steep stairs, this seems this to happen every year or two, but the damage this time was the worst in my experience.  (May 20, 2007)

"The Chute" looking down

See second photo, below

Problem One is the hallway the steps run between is extremely narrow; just a couple inches wider than my shoulders -- no handrails, just a wall on each side.  From whacking my elbows so often going downstairs, I've learned to twist my torso, lead with my right shoulder, left arm sort of protected behind me.  The wall-to-wall carpeting had become somewhat worn on the edges where my feet rub, making them more slippery.

Problem Two is the steps are steep, the treaders short, the risers high.  They had to be to get from the second floor down to the kitchen in the space available.  Barbara suggested that I have them extended further out, so I could have wider treaders, shorter risers, less height/steepness -- but then I'd run into . . .

Problem Three:  At the fourth from the bottom step I must duck beneath the kitchen ceiling -- or whack my head.  I did that a few times going down when I first moved in about ten years ago.  I learned to duck, done almost automatically since.  When I've slipped down those steps, my biggest concern was/is keeping my head down -- "riding it out" instead.  But the steps have to be steep to get beneath that ceiling.  The old guy who formerly owned the house -- originally a small summer camp -- who did most of the additions to it over many years, had to make a lot of compromises when he added the second floor and put in this stairway.

Problem Four:  There's nothing to grab if I start to lose footing, start sliding.  With but 2-3 inches of wall on each side of my shoulders, it means I'm "riding the chute" to the bottom -- unless I hook a step on the way down with my trailing elbow, use my arms like brake shoes against the "brake drum" walls, or can grab the rail at the bottom before hitting the kitchen floor.

I'm up and down those stairs probably three or four dozen times a day anyway.  My office, bedroom, and primary bathroom and shower are on the second floor.  For a while after the latest slip-and-fall, I'm real careful -- but after a while I'm inevitably back to auto-pilot, taking the stairs without thinking.

I warn everyone who comes up or down to be real careful of those steps.  Barbara will come upstairs only if there's no avoiding it, and then very carefully.  At least so far I've been the only one to ride the chute down or to bang my head!

The trick is to step off the second floor hallway landing exactly right, on the right foot with toes about three inches over the edge.  The left foot then lands on the next step, sort of duck-walking splay-footed with toes pointed outward about three inches over the edge, heel against the riser, and so forth the rest of the way down.  Duck my head approaching the bottom beneath the ceiling.  That first step off the landing is critical for hitting the second step precisely.  If I over- or under-shoot that second step with forward and downward momentum, I hit the third step way off and recovery is near-impossible (even as that kitchen ceiling approaches).  This time, I believe my heel hit the second step's riser, pushing my third step too far ahead and launching me (for my fourth or fifth ride down the chute).

As I went down, I initially made contact with my (trailing) left forearm (carpet burn bruise) then elbow (cut, black-and-blue), then ended up at the bottom.  I was hurting, but nothing like what was to come.  When I came back up to my office after locking up the house for the night I knew I was going to have general aches and pains come morning, but was surprised I didn't have more pain in my left elbow, which once again took the brunt of the fall, or so I thought.

After a night and day of pain, I went to an orthopedic doctor to be checked out.  His x-rays showed a broken left clavicle and a broken left rib!

Apparently the force from my forearm/elbow was transmitted up through my shoulder, breaking the clavicle (part of the acromion process, which -- as I recall from my biology class days of yesteryear -- holds the shoulder together along with the shoulder blade, upper arm bone, and a bunch of tendons, ligaments, and muscles);  I must have hit my ribs on the slide down the stairs, or the broken rib and overall pulled rib muscles were part of the elbow-shoulder chain reaction.  My chest is again wrapped with the familiar Ace bandage of last year's cruise.

The Tylenol 3 (with codeine) he prescribed works a little better than over-the-counter Tylenol, but the pain remains quite intense.  The "figure eight shoulder harness" he put me in is intended to keep my shoulders held back (reminds me of standing at attention while I was in the Army!) so the clavicle can heal.  The option was a sling, but that would have immobilized my left arm and hand -- and I wouldn't have been able to type!  I knew I bought a wireless keyboard years back for a reason:  it's now sitting on my lap as I type, still uncomfortable but doable!  Six weeks to heal, I was told -- but I wonder how long before the worst of the pain subsides?  The doc told me if I try to overdo or rush it, the clavicle won't heal and he'll have to operate, put in some sort of plate -- that I can definitely do without!  He wants me to also keep an eye on my breathing, to breath deeply (ouch) -- there's a potential for pneumonia with this type of injury, he advised.  Wonderful.

What a great way to start off Sailing Season '07.  Oh well, accidents happen, and I guess this beats tearing rib muscles on the first day out on my cruise, as I did last summer, and carrying on singlehanded and in pain for two weeks.  At least I could tough that out:  there's no way I could pull that off with this damage and pain.  It's rather intimidating to consider just how fragile our bodies are.  To think, I almost didn't go to the doctor -- thought "this too shall pass," until I saw the x-rays.

"The Chute" from the bottom
Duck here

The Solution hopefully, at last!
Phase I