Braving the Fall. How a Package Delivery Mishap Changed My Perspective on Life

Me on my way home from the walk-in clinic.

Braving the Fall: How a Package Delivery Mishap Changed My Perspective on Life

Hello, dear readers.

Life has an uncanny way of teaching us lessons when we least expect them. Some come gently, whispered through moments of reflection. Others arrive with a bang—unexpected, jarring, and painful. Literally.

This is the story of how a single misstep during a routine delivery not only broke my arm but also cracked open a new perspective on independence, vulnerability, and resilience. What started as an ordinary day quickly turned into one I’ll never forget.

The Misstep That Changed Everything

It was a normal day filled with errands and deliveries. The sun was out, and I had my checklist in hand. As I approached one house, package in tow, I stepped out the front door expecting there to be a landing. Instead, my foot found a step I hadn't seen—and in that split second, my entire body lurched forward.

I fell.

Not a little stumble. Not a graceful trip. I fell hard—straight from the open doorway to the sidewalk below. My right arm absorbed the impact, and I instantly knew something was terribly wrong. The pain was sharp and radiating. I didn’t need an X-ray to tell me it was broken.

As if the pain weren’t enough, I realized my glasses had broken too. With blurry vision and no one in sight, I found myself alone, lying on the sidewalk, in shock and confusion. I tried to sit up. I tried to stand. But I couldn’t. My arm simply wouldn’t cooperate, and every movement sent a wave of pain shooting through me.

Braving the Fall. Getting Up Again—Literally and Figuratively

I didn’t have a choice. I had to move.

Scooting on my bottom, I slowly made my way back to the steps near the edge of the sidewalk. It felt like an eternity. Finally, I managed to maneuver myself onto my right knee, gingerly reached up with my good arm to grab the railing, and somehow—miraculously—pulled myself up to a standing position.

I paused, shaky and breathless, trying to steady myself.

And then, because I’m stubborn and maybe a little bit crazy, I walked to the side of the house and delivered the package. That’s right—arm likely broken, still shaking from the fall—I finished the job. At that moment, adrenaline and sheer willpower were the only things keeping me upright.

But the day wasn’t over.

I still had one more delivery to make. And I was an hour from home.

The Drive I’ll Never Forget

I climbed into my car, carefully positioned myself to avoid jostling my arm too much, and used my left hand to steer. Every pothole, every turn, every bump in the road felt like torture. My body ached, my arm throbbed, and tears streamed down my face as I cried from both pain and frustration.

At my last stop, I texted my husband: "On my way home. We need to go to the walk-in. I think I broke my arm."

When I finally pulled into our driveway, I was emotionally and physically drained. My husband quickly helped me into his car, and we headed to the walk-in clinic. The ride there felt like it lasted hours. Each bump made me wince. Each red light felt like a cruel delay.

Confirmation and Care

At the clinic, they confirmed what I already knew: I had broken my right humerus. My elbow was scraped, bruised, and swollen. They cleaned and bandaged the area, gave me a tetanus shot, and prescribed an NSAID for the pain. I was put in a sling—this one from Vive Health is similar to the one I wore, Arm Sling for Shoulder, Elbow, and Wrist Support

—and told to follow up with an orthopedic specialist.

And just like that, everything changed.

Losing Independence Overnight

I hadn’t realized how much I relied on my right arm until I couldn’t use it. Things I once did without a second thought now felt monumental. Driving was out of the question. Cooking, cleaning, dressing, and showering—suddenly all required help.

Even showering safely became a challenge. Thankfully, this waterproof protector makes it possible to bathe without soaking a cast if you have one.

I needed assistance to brush my hair. I needed help buttoning my shirt. Even pulling up my pants after using the bathroom became a two-person job. As a wife, mother, and caregiver, I was used to being the one helping others. Now, I had to rely on them—and it was humbling.

A New Kind of Strength

The following Monday, I met with the orthopedic doctor. She explained that NSAIDs can slow bone healing, so I was told to switch to Tylenol for pain relief.

She also outlined the long recovery process. I had to keep my sling on at all times—except three to four times a day, when I’d remove it to perform range-of-motion exercises for my elbow.

Those exercises were awful. Each movement felt like my body was rebelling against itself. But I knew if I didn’t push through the discomfort, my elbow could stiffen permanently. This simple range of motion exerciser helped me keep my therapy on track at home.

So I did them—gritting my teeth, wincing, and crying at times—but I did them.

Sleepless Nights and Sofa Days To stabilize my arm while sleeping, I had to move to the sofa. This orthopedic pillow helped keep me upright and comfortable enough to rest through the night.

I would cushion my elbow, wrap a blanket around my shoulder, and do my best to sleep in one position.

The days felt long and the nights longer. Everything took more time. Everything hurt. But little by little, I adjusted. My family stepped up—my husband, daughter, and son never wavered—and I started finding ways to function, one small victory at a time.

For those moments I couldn’t bend or reach, this grabber tool became my secret weapon.

Lessons in Gratitude and Grace

Before the fall, I had never really paused to appreciate how much I could do on my own. I took for granted the simple things—tying shoes, pouring coffee, folding laundry, doing laundry. But when those things were taken away, even temporarily, I gained a new appreciation for my body, my independence, and the people around me.

This injury taught me how to ask for help—and more importantly, how to accept it. It reminded me that vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s part of being human.

Looking Ahead

As I write this, I’m still healing. My next orthopedic appointment is on June 23rd, and I’m anxious to see how well the bone is mending. Recovery hasn’t been easy, and it certainly hasn’t been quick. But it has been eye-opening.

This fall—both literal and metaphorical—showed me the strength that lives in perseverance, the beauty in interdependence, and the deep humility in needing others.

Sometimes life trips us up to slow us down, to help us see what we’ve been missing, and to remind us that even when we fall, we can rise—stronger, wiser, and more compassionate.

Thank you for reading my story. If you’ve ever experienced something similar, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Let’s support each other through Braving the Fall and the triumphs that follow.

With gratitude and healing, Margaretp

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