As I write this on Monday afternoon, I'm sitting rather uncomfortably on a chair in my home office, my right leg draped over a small stool, crutches by my side.

Yesterday, I fell off my roof doing something manly. The ladder gave way, and -- as I mumbled some obscenities I wasn't even aware I knew -- I fell about 12 feet, landing on my back and hitting my head on the driveway below with a thud I'll never forget. I didn't see stars until I got up to walk to the front door, apparently with a double fracture on my right heel. I also have a black-and-blue mark on my butt that could make the Guinness Book of Records, and which many close business associates and significant others have asked to see. As I was being wheeled into the ambulance, one paramedic asked me who the President of the U.S. is, just to see if I was all there. "Richard Nixon," I blurted out, laughing.

To make matters a bit worse, when I called the office this morning with the news of my adventure, I couldn't get through. Sunday night's rainstorm blew out all the phone lines. So there I was, unable to perform routine tasks, my right foot throbbing incessantly. But what hurt me more was the the fact that my business lines were down.

Believe it or not, the only thing going through my mind as I lay in that ambulance was what part of my week's schedule I could afford to forgo. I managed to figure out that I could blow off most of it. There was one thing I didn't want to miss, however.

For several months, I've been shopping for a line of credit, stumbling along the way over faceless underwriters who didn't want to take a chance on me or my company. Then last Friday, I received a call from a banker I've been working with. She wanted to come in with two others to discuss my application. "Was Monday at 1 p.m. O.K.?" she asked. Monday afternoon sounded perfect. I could even use the morning to prep. Then I fell off my roof.

About 9:20 a.m. this morning, I figured I could climb the stairs, painfully make my way to the shower, dress, and have someone drive me to my office for the meeting -- if I started then. I wasn't about to stop the momentum on landing this loan. I've been working on it too long.

The meeting went well, though I was a bit pale and strung out. Fortunately, the bankers understood, and we had a great time talking about human frailty and swapping calamity stories.

When you've tried as hard as I have to build a business, the phrase "you're only human" comes to mind at this moment. The trick, I've learned, is to set up your company so it will run for a while without you. And since I have a great staff, I'm secure knowing I can spend a few days licking my wounds without tending to my business 24/7. I'm also glad I took out personal-liability insurance last year, something small-business owners with limited resources don't think of until it's too late.

The next few weeks should be a challenge. There's a huge cast on my right foot that needs to stay on for nearly two months. No driving, certainly no marathon running, and I'm still waiting for the bankers to approve my loan. This ought to be interesting. The entrepreneur stumbles.

George Giokas is the president and CEO of StaffWriters Plus, a specialty agency that places writers in temporary and permanent positions with corporate and other employers. It also provides editorial consulting work. His database includes 2,500 writers and editors specializing in more than 60 categories. His Web site is located at www.staffwriters.com, and you can E-mail him at george@staffwriters.com.