September 18, 2026
Yesterday morning was one of the first pleasant mornings we’ve had in a while. It was around 71 degrees outside, and after so much summer heat, I was happy just to be able to sit on my porch again. I don’t think I’d really been able to enjoy sitting outside in about a month.
While I was sitting there, I could hear my cows. They were moving around and making quite a bit of noise, but I couldn’t see them. So I decided to get up and walk around to see where they were.
I walked around the front of the house and then behind it. I never did find the cows.
As I was walking back toward the house on the sidewalk, I bit the dust.
And I bit it hard.
I don’t know whether I lost my balance or tripped over something. What I remember most clearly is my face hitting the concrete.
I got back up and was kind of freaking out. I reached underneath my chin because it felt like flesh was hanging down. It hurt badly. I’ve hit the ground before, but this was one of the hardest impacts with concrete I can remember.
I headed inside, trying to figure out what I needed to do. Then I saw the blood dripping onto the floor.
That’s when I knew this wasn’t something I was going to handle at home.
Getting Out the Door
I looked at my chin in the mirror and knew immediately that I was probably going to need stitches. I couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, so I grabbed a small hand towel and held it against my chin with my right hand.
Then something happened that probably wouldn’t occur to most people after a fall.
I had to prepare to leave.
Any time I leave home, especially if there’s a possibility I’m going to a hospital, I have to think about what I might need if I’m gone much longer than expected. I needed my phone, my bag, my medicine, my DBS remote, and the other things I depend on to get through the day.
Normally that’s just part of my routine. Doing it while bleeding, hurting and panicking was a little different.
I wanted to change my shorts because they weren’t fitting right. My shirt had blood all over it too, but I decided I wasn’t pulling a shirt over my head with my chin torn open.
So I put on some slip-on shoes, grabbed my keys and headed to the hospital about ten miles away.
There was another Parkinson’s consideration in that decision.
I was fortunate that morning because I was pretty much ON. My pump had been running through the night, and I was moving well enough to walk around, gather everything I needed and drive myself to the hospital.
Had I been OFF, this could have been a very different story. I probably would have needed to call an ambulance.
The injury would have been the same. But whether I was ON or OFF could have completely changed what happened next.
At the Hospital
I walked up to the check-in desk, gave the woman my information, got my hospital bracelet and was told to sit in the waiting area.
There wasn’t anybody else waiting.
Thankfully, I didn’t sit there very long.
They brought me back, checked my blood pressure and other vitals, went through my medications and all the usual administrative stuff, and then took a look at my chin.
Yeah. It was going to need some work.
The doctor examined me and asked whether I had lost consciousness. I hadn’t, but because I’d hit my face so hard, he wanted to make sure I hadn’t fractured my jaw, chin or another facial bone.
So they sent me for a CT scan.
They also cleaned the wound.
That hurt.
Actually, it hurt quite a bit.
Eventually the doctor came back and told me the CT was clear. There were no fractures. My jaw was sore, and my teeth hurt from my jaw hitting the concrete hard enough that my teeth slammed together, but thankfully nothing appeared to be broken.
They also talked with me about watching for symptoms of a concussion.
The doctor asked when I’d last had a tetanus shot. I couldn’t remember having one within the last ten years, so they gave me one. They also gave me some Tylenol for the pain.
Then it was time to fix my chin.
The doctor brought in his tray, instruments and light. He injected local anesthetic around the wound to numb the area.
Those needles hurt too.
But once my chin was numb, he went to work.
When he finished, he told me how many stitches it had taken.
Nine.
Nine stitches from what had started as a beautiful morning sitting on my porch.
Then I Started Thinking About My Watch
I left the hospital, drove home and laid down for a while to let some of the pain pass.
Later, I started thinking about something else.
My Apple Watch.
One of the reasons I wanted an Apple Watch was Fall Detection. There are times when I walk out into the pasture around the cows or somewhere else on the property where I may not have my phone within reach.
I’m often by myself.
The Watch gave me some peace of mind because I understood that if it detected a hard fall and I couldn’t respond, it could ultimately contact emergency services.
This seemed like exactly the kind of fall it was supposed to recognize.
But I don’t remember my Watch doing anything.
So I started looking through the settings, trying to figure out whether I had Fall Detection turned on.
I did.
It was already enabled.
That leaves me with a question I still don’t have an answer to:
Why didn’t it recognize this fall?
Maybe I’ll figure that out. I certainly want to, because the next fall might not happen ten steps from my front door. It could happen out in the pasture. I might be OFF. I might not be able to get back up. I might not be able to reach my phone.
Yesterday, I could.
And I’m thankful for that.
Yesterday started as a beautiful 71-degree morning on the porch.
A short time later, I was holding a bloody towel against my chin and driving myself to the hospital.
That’s life with Parkinson’s sometimes.
Not every day needs a grand lesson attached to it.
Sometimes it’s simply worth recording what happened.
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