Falling with Grace: A Night to Remember and a Lesson in Strength

Last night was definitely one to remember. My family and I went to celebrate our anniversary at Fogo de Chão, which just opened in town. It’s one of those new restaurants everyone’s been talking about, so we figured it was the perfect spot for a nice evening out. I don’t go to restaurants often, so I was really looking forward to this.

The place was packed, as you’d expect from a new spot in town. The vibe was amazing—people were having a great time, chatting, enjoying their meals, and the aroma of the food was incredible. Now, the tables were set up pretty tightly, and if you’ve ever been in a busy restaurant, you know how it is. People push their chairs out a bit too far without realizing it, and it’s tough to squeeze by.

At some point, I had to head to the restroom, and instead of weaving between the tables where chairs were sticking out, I decided to take what I thought was the easier route—along the salad bar. The salad bar was fixed, so I figured I wouldn’t have to deal with dodging chairs. I made my way to the bathroom just fine, but coming back, well, that’s when things got interesting.

I’m heading back, and my crutch suddenly hit a slippery spot on the floor. Now, I don’t usually put all my weight on my crutch—especially on my left side—but this time, it caught me off guard. My crutch slid out, and the next thing I know, I’m falling. It happened so fast, but at the same time, it felt like slow motion. I was falling toward this guy sitting at his table with his family, and for a split second, I thought I was going to end up with my head in his lap! But somehow, I managed to shift myself and land more toward the floor.

When I went down, my arm twisted back awkwardly, and I could feel my shoulder—where I recently had a cortisone shot—complaining a bit. Nothing serious, just enough to remind me it was there. I yelped a little, but I wasn’t in pain, and before I even had a chance to react, people were around me, asking if I was okay and trying to help me up.

My mom was there right away. Now, I love my mom, and I’m so grateful she was there to help, but if you know me, you know I like to maintain my independence. I don’t want anyone hovering over me or worrying too much—I can handle things myself. But in this case, I did need a little help getting up, because my right knee doesn’t bend easily. Mom bent my knee for me, which made it easier for me to get into a standing position, and someone else helped pull me up.

Once I was on my feet, I turned to the family at the table and joked, “Well, that’s one way to make an entrance!” They laughed, and everyone seemed relieved that I wasn’t hurt. You know how it is when someone falls in public—people get that awkward, concerned look on their faces, unsure if they should laugh, help, or just pretend they didn’t see it. But I wasn’t embarrassed at all. It’s just one of those things that happen, and I wasn’t going to let it ruin my night.

The manager came over and offered his business card, asking if I needed a doctor or anything. I appreciated the gesture, but I was fine. I wasn’t hurt, and there was no need to make a big deal out of it. It was just a slippery floor, and I happened to hit the wrong spot with my crutch.

Afterward, I thought about how easy it would’ve been to let that fall mess with my head. I could’ve worried that it was a sign my MS was getting worse or wondered if I could’ve avoided it somehow. But I didn’t let myself go there. It was just a moment—nothing more. I went down, I got back up, and that’s that. Today, I’m heading to the gym like I always do, because what happened last night doesn’t change anything about who I am or what I’m capable of.

One thing that did cross my mind, though, is how much I value my independence. I’m so lucky to have people around me who care, but at the same time, I need to be able to figure out how to move through the world on my own terms. I don’t want to be fussed over or feel like I’m being helicoptered. It’s important to me that I handle situations like these with as much autonomy as possible. Yes, my mom helped me up, and I’m thankful for that, but I need to be the one deciding how I manage my condition and my life.

Looking back, I’m grateful that the fall wasn’t worse. I could’ve seriously hurt myself—broken a bone, twisted something—but I didn’t. My shoulder is a little sore, but nothing major. The whole thing was just a reminder to live in the moment and not let something small take over my thoughts. I’m not going to dwell on it or let it make me feel like my MS is getting worse, because it’s not. It was a one-time thing, and now it’s over.

So, I’m curious—what would you have done in my situation? Would you have shaken it off and moved on, or would it have bothered you more? I’d love to hear how you would’ve handled it!