It was on a warm Saturday afternoon two years ago that I found myself sitting in a daze. My first thought was, why did I decide not to bring my phone?

I had intended to deadhead the irises back all week but just hadn’t found the time to do so. I pushed my chair away from the table and put on my work gloves, grabbed the shears and looked at my phone. I decided not to tuck it in my apron pocket because I was only going to be in the garden for about 10 minutes.

Having finished the task at hand, I bent down to pick up some object that caught my eye, stood back up and turned around. That’s when it happened. I lost my balance and found myself falling face-down toward one of the large boulders that outline my flower garden. THUD! I hit my forehead square on the rough edge.

I initially thought I had hit that boulder really hard and put my gloved hand up to my forehead. To say the blood was flowing freely down my face is putting it mildly.

I began to scream for someone to help me, but no one except me was out in their yard gardening, playing or relaxing. So, I said to myself, “Self, you are going to have to find a way to become vertical or you are going to bleed to death.” Not a good scenario.

I don’t know how I managed to do it, but somehow I braced myself on one of the boulders and pulled myself to an upright position and paused to assess the situation. I discovered my shirt was covered with blood that was flowing from a gash in my forehead.

I turned and slowly walked toward the steps that lead to my deck. I managed to navigate up those eight steps and walk across the deck to the door that leads to the kitchen. Once inside, I made a bee-line for the kitchen sink and hung my bleeding head over it while I called 911.

The end result was a trip to the ER where I was diagnosed with an open fracture nasal bone —aka broken nose — forehead laceration, lip laceration and head injury. I had six places where they stitched my face back together. They did three imaging tests: CT brain (found nothing); CT cervical spine; CT face. Plus I was given amoxicillin-clavulanate, morphine and zofran. I became a druggie in one fell swoop.

When the paramedics arrived and began asking questions I stopped them in their tracks and said, “You are asking questions to the wrong person. You should be asking the other woman what she looks like — I WON!”

One of my friends told me she just had one question: “Did you have on clean undies?” My reply was: “They were clean when I fell, but not so sure they were when I got up.”

I’m reminded of another time, I searched for my phone in desperation and finally found it in a shoe in my closet. How it wound up in my shoe is still a mystery.

My biggest regret through all of this is that I chose to leave my phone on the kitchen counter, thinking I would only be in my garden for about 10 minutes.

Our phones today are much more than walkie-talkies. They are our lifeline. The technology that’s available allows not only the elderly to be more mobile but everyone in general.

Some say it’s too uncomfortable to wear a lanyard with fall buttons around their neck, but it’s better than taking the chance on falling and breaking your neck. It’s your lifeline.

Email Betty Heath at begeheath690.