"The Fall"

I have had nothing to blog about lately. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. We haven't done anything out of the ordinary or interesting.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday, the day my life changed forever...
I fell down the stairs at church, in the chapel, with many witnesses.


I can't get past it. I have been re-living that moment ever since it happened. Sometimes, I think maybe I imagined it, that something so horrific could not really have happened.
But it did happen.

Let's analyze the sequence of events, shall we?

Our LDS building is being renovated and expanded, so during the construction we are meeting at a different church in the community: The Tallahatchie M.B. Church of Oxford. They have a HUGE chapel with a stage and a pulpit. There are stairs that lead up to the pulpit in the middle of the stage. They are made of wood.

Sunday School has just ended, and people are milling around getting ready for the next hour of church. People are talking and visiting. I am on the stage by the pulpit, and I need to go down the stairs. I vaguely remember something Brother Wells said about being careful on the stairs blah blah blah.

I step on the first step. It's so slick, my heel slides forward really fast.
I hear my shoes sounding like tap shoes, trying to recover my footing.
I think I can get my balance back...
No, I'm heading down like a crashing plane.
I think I bounced off a couple of steps. This would look SO attractive in slow motion.
I hit the carpet. My entire torso hits the ground. On impact, my hair flies forward into my face.
My arms and legs splay out all different directions.
I am laying on the ground, a spread eagle in spanx.
The room becomes SILENT.
(A thousand thoughts race through my mind...if I stand up really fast, maybe no one will notice...that did NOT just happen...hey, everybody look over there at Katie! What is that she is holding?...did anyone see "LOST" this week? What is going ON in that show?...What are you talking about? I did NOT just fall down!)
Everyone rushes to me, asking if I am hurt. There are gasps of horror and murmurs of concern. Surely, the force of the impact was great enough to cause broken bones and internal bleeding. But I am not hurt physically--just emotionally scarred for life.
Everyone says a silent prayer, thanking Heavenly Father they are not me.

Family and friends have been very supportive. Bill, who did not witness the incident, said I should have jumped up, raising my arms, and shouting, "TADAAAAH!"
Rachel said I should either find a time-machine, or attend church from now on in a red wig, thus concealing my true identity.

My road to recovery starts today.