When fear becomes reality

For as long as I can remember I had fear of something happening to me while going down some steps. I don't know how the fear started, but all I knew was that the idea of falling down the stairs and landing on my back terrified me beyond belief. For me, I only envisioned one outcome; breaking my back. I feared that happening to me and then being paralysed for life. In other words, being limited in many ways physically and maybe sometimes having to rely on others. I know there are worse things that can happen, but for me stairs were a serious and realistic threat because we all use them, often on daily basis.

The fear was many fold. For example, I imagined how bad it would be if I fell down the escalators in public places because they have these sharp edges that could literally pierce through one's back. Then there was the fear of slippery stairs after it had rained. But the worst was the ones in homes. Two years ago, I was staying at one of my sisters' apartments in London, and she had these odd steps between two levels of the apartment; they were like 7 or 8 steps that curved as you went down, and got narrower on one side. On that eventful day, I was home alone and I had just taken laundry out of the washing machine. To put them out, I had to go down the steps; something I had done countless times before without incident.

The steps were exactly like this one above

I was carrying the laundry basket, but I did something I hadn't done before. For a split second, I looked forward instead of watching where I placed my foot. And that's when it happened. I slipped and landed on my back and hit my lower spine on the edge of one of the steps. The pain was immediate, but I didn't feel anything odd. It took me a while to get up, go back up the steps and lie on the sofa. I remember my brother calling me and even when I told me I had fallen down the steps, I wasn't saying it as if something terrible had happened. In other words, I didn't realize the serious impact of the fall. Later that evening, things kept getting harder for me to do because of the pain, but because I don't like doctors, I didn't go and see anyone for another two days.

On the third day, and after family members pleading with me to see someone, I went to the hospital. I had a lovely doctor and she send me to have an X-ray. It took about two hours for me to get the X-ray, but once the results were out, my doctor came to me concerned. She told me that I had fractured my lumbar spine, but that the X-ray showed something that concerned the senior consultant. So they suggested I have an MRI done to ensure that it wasn't what they feared. They explained that if I didn't have the MRI, whatever they suspected could become more serious in the future and they did not want to be responsible for overlooking an injury on the back that could potentially paralyse me. What??!! Despite my mind going off in all directions, I was suspiciously calm. In fact, I had submitted myself to whatever was going to be. Of course that doesn't mean I wanted to be paralysed or for my back to have been damaged in other ways, but there was no reason to panic.

After the MRI, I was admitted to a room and ordered not to move.When my doctor finally came back, she gave me the good news that the MRI showed that it was not what they suspected. So I still had a fractured lumbar spine, but nothing more. Feeling blessed, I left the hospital thinking about how close I came to my ultimate fear becoming a reality.

What do you fear and has it ever become a reality?

Image source:1, 2,3

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