A Cautionary Tale
At some point along that long and occasionally bumpy road of life, almost all of us will find ourselves in need of a ladder, the use of which may or may not be fraught with danger. It all depends. It might just be a small stepstool type ladder that poses very little threat, or it might be a medium sized fold out ladder that poses only a minor threat. If it goes over you haven’t got but so far to fall. You’ll probably come out of that with a few bumps and bruises, but nothing that will require any major medical intervention. Or It might be one of those long expandable ladders that people use to do foolish things like get up on their roofs, and that is precisely the kind of ladder I am here to discuss today.
I own one such ladder. I wish I didn’t. It was, however, given to me by my dad for Christmas one year so I’ve hung on to it. The only thing I ever used it for was cleaning gutters, a necessary task I performed twice a year until that one fateful afternoon when I came to regret the day I ever laid eyes on it.
It was late May and my gutters were yet again in need of cleaning. I hauled that ladder out, expanded it to its full length, and propped it against the side of the house. I then began working my way around the house moving the ladder a few feet at a time and climbing up and down scooping the leaves out bit by bit. When I reached the last section of the gutter, I darted to the top of the ladder without realizing that I had failed to brace it solidly on the ground. The result was predictable. I reached one way, the ladder slid the other way, and down I went. I had attempted to grab the gutter to stop the fall, but my fingers slid right off. I landed hard, crushing my beautiful gardenia bush and rolling out onto the lawn as searing pain shot through my left knee and right ankle.
I screamed repeatedly for help, but no one appeared. They were all comfortably ensconced in their air-conditioned homes as I lay on the ground unable to move. I eventually dragged myself military crawl style to my side door. I somehow managed to open the door and drag myself to where my phone lay just barely within reach on the side of the kitchen counter. I called for help and found myself in the emergency room about a half an hour later. My knee turned out to be fine, just bruised, but my ankle was broken. They fixed me up with a cast and a set of crutches and sent me on my way..
I called my sister when I got home to tell her what happened, but as I was giving her the blow by blow, she suddenly burst out laughing. Laughing? At my misfortune? I didn’t really think that it was all that funny. Then she said that her husband wanted to know if the gutters were OK. I gave a long, heavy sigh and told her to tell him how touched I was by his concern.
In case you’re wondering the same thing, the gutters survived undamaged and so did the ladder. I still have it, although it’s now in retirement. If you should happen to have one of those tucked away somewhere, I suggest you follow my lead and leave it there.