I got stuck. Yes, stuck!
No, my skin was not pierced in any way, by any object.
I got stuck in a sitting position on the bathroom floor, after tightening the plastic nut or bolt or maybe both on the toilet seat which shifts while a sitter is sitting. It is annoying!
So while I was on the floor, I grabbed the Clorox Wipes and scrubbed the tile floor, the base of the tub and commode, and while I was on a roll, I decided to wipe the pink wall tiles circa 1950
underneath the sink.
Proud of my spiffy clean powder room, I tried to stand up to observe and take it all in. But I was all stuck on the floor and couldn't move up, down, or even turn around. It is a small 5'x5' floor space bathroom. And getting up on my knees was impossible.
I yelled for the big guy, but when he came to my aid, all he could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
He tugged my arm until it was almost out of socket.
He told me to roll onto my left side and grab the tub. I rolled onto that hunk of metal I refer to as my metal hippy and yelped. It took us five minutes or more to position me with one leg back, one tucked under... plus a size twelve shoe "jack" under my wide carriage to get me up off that floor high enough to reach a bathtub grab bar.
My high school friend, Pat, moved away. We talked on the phone the other day. She asked when I decided I was old. I told her I know I am old, but I don't think I'm old, because I am mobile and in pretty good health. I get around and don't take prescriptions.
Well Pat, as of today...I consider myself old!
Older-than-me-Chuckles is having his hey day everytime I walk past him. I told him, "You just wait!" His half bath is half the size of mine!