Last Friday morning at about 7a.m. I heard the approaching refuse collectors in the road, so I got up quickly and put my dressing gown on. I unlocked the front door and stepped on to the step. I don't know what happened next as I seem to have done an "English Header" straight on to the paving slabs. The Refuse collectors came to my assistance making me lay still and sent for an ambulance, They held my hand and comforted me, and got a blanket out of the house to keep me warm. I have to point out that I am 83, so not exactly a spring chicken, It's not the first time I have fallen over, but I hope it will be the last! I was examined at the hospital, and following some tea and toast, I returned home via taxi. The Refuse collectors have agreed to put my bins out for me in future, for which I am grateful. Are the falls a symptom of PMR?
I now have a technicolour face, and who needs eyeshadow?