In reply to OJ102:
I'm afraid this isn't going to help much, but it may be good for a (painful) chuckle or two. It was written, by me, in the style of the American Alpine Club's Accidents in North American Mountaineering.
ACCIDENTS IN NORTH AMERICAN MOUNTAINEERING 2021
FALL ON FRONT STEPS—INADEQUATE INTELLIGENCE, POOR EQUIPMENT, VOCAL INCOMPETENCE.
On February 15, the victim, RG, a 77-year-old homeowner with 77 years of experience, embarked on a solo expedition to his driveway. The weather was clear and temperatures were above freezing, but a hard freeze overnight had left a glaze of ice on the second of three front steps.
It is the Editor’s experience that even experienced homeowners frequently underestimate their front yard. RG was shod in bedroom slippers, had no microspikes or crampons, was not wearing a helmet, and had no self-rescue equipment with him, even though all these items were a scant twenty feet or less from the Steppes. Whether RG was negligent in his selection of equipment, simply oblivious to the dangers of the homestead environment, or supremely overconfident in the face of significant risks, his poor preparation for the excursion was a significant factor in the adverse outcome.
The verglas on the Second Step was almost invisible, and RG’s foot shot straight off at the moment of contact, pitching him backward and slamming his back onto the sharp upper edge of the Third Step, resulting in an involuntary scream that no one in the neighborhood paid the least attention to, and what RG described as excruciating pain.
Semi-incapacitated and lying in agony on the Steppes, RG reports considering a helicopter extraction, but was dissuaded from making the call for fear of the prop wash damaging the daffodil shoots just popping up in the yard. And so he opted for an epic self-rescue which involved a painful and laborious ascent of the Third Step, followed by several feet of crawling up to and over the threshold, where he was greeted cheerfully by his wife, who had heard the scream but thought it was cats meowing.
X-rays showed no displaced rib fracture, but the pain level suggested the diagnosis of cracked ribs. The latest treatment, using the HUS Protocols (Harden Up Snowflake), was prescribed and carried out, with medication amounts that caused ibuprofen stocks to set records on Wall Street.
It was difficult to manage any kind of exercise during the healing process, and unable to perambulate properly, RG was forced to stay home and take pictures of kitchen utensil shadows.
Nurse Dana provided valuable medical knowledge and encouragement, and revealed that when The ex-president said, “One day—it's like a miracle—it will just go away,” he was referring not to Covid 19 but rib injuries, which are easily confused with Covid 19. And so it was. After six and a half weeks, one day the pain was gone. Of course, it is now understood that many victims will have to grapple with PSRD (post-stupidity recrimination disorder) and that a return to normal may be delayed.
ANALYSIS. The multiple errors made by RG in sallying forth from his home with inadequate preparation and equipment are too obvious to repeat. Perhaps the most critical adjustment going forward would be to learn an agonized scream that does not sound like a cat’s meow.