It was Wednesday, May 17. I was in Houston, helping to take care of kids, pets and household, so that Kelsey could spend all the time she wanted and needed with Chris in the hospital (see that story here). The kids were nearing the end of the school year. Robert was finishing up 7th grade, and Clara was almost done with her junior year of high school.
One of Clara's teachers was giving extra credit to any student who brought to school some kind of treat that was meaningful for their family. Clara wanted to make a batch of our family favoritesthat we call "French cookies." She asked me if I would make sure we had all the ingredients, so she could make them that evening. Of course, I was more than happy to do that.
Now, one of the ingredients in French cookies is a two-tablespoon splash of brandy. Being a teetotaler, I'm always a bit uncomfortable shopping for that bottle of brandy. I looked for it at the grocery store, but couldn't find it, so I decided to go to the little liquor store I had seen in a strip mall near Chris and Kelsey's house. After parking, I walked down the sidewalk, heading to the liquor store. I was only steps away from the entrance when I missed seeing a step-down, and - just like Wile E. Cayote - I stepped off into thin air, and crashed, landing face-first, onto the concrete.
There I was, sprawled on the sidewalk, in front of a liquor store, looking, I'm sure, like I'd imbibed at least a bottle or two of brandy from that nearby liquor store. I didn't lose consciousness, but I couldn't move. My head was hurting, and my right eye had already swollen shut, my lip was bleeding. A young man came running up and helped me to my feet. I was wobbly, hardly able to walk, and my right arm was beginning to hurt. The "good Samaritan" held onto me and walked me inside the liquor store. The shop attendant took one look at me, and let out a little scream. He brought me back to the tiny employees-only restroom and let me splash some cold water onto my face. He gave me a wet paper towel to put over my eye. From somewhere, a woman appeared on the scene. She was horrified at my appearance, and tried to convince me that I must not drive. She wanted to call family for me, but I knew my family was an hour away at the Houston Medical Center. So I drove home. I was only five minutes away, and I didn't have to go on any busy streets. I wasn't thinking clearly; I probably shouldn't have driven, but I made it to their house without incident.
Chris and Kelsey's very dear friend, Jason, was at the house. He had come from the Dallas area to give Chris some encouragement, and give Kelsey help with a few things around the house. When I got home, he was upstairs, taking a nap. I called for help, and Jason came down, sat me in a chair, got an ice pack for my eye, and opened a bottle of water for me. He was so calm and capable that it felt like I was being seen by my own personal EMT. There was an urgent care clinic not far away, so he took me there. When the clerk at the clinic saw me, she said, "We can't help you! We don't treat headwounds. You need to go to the hospital."
The hospital was around a corner and down a block or two - very near by - so Jason took me to the emergency room. My right eye was swollen shut, and my lip was bleeding. I wasn't clear-headed. So Jason graciously took the clipboard with the registration paperwork, and filled it out for me, identifying himself as my "son," to make things easier. I was so grateful for his kind and competent care that I was very happy to claim him as my son! Eventually I convinced him to leave, since he wanted to get to the other hospital to see Chris. Kelsey showed up soon afterward, to sit with me until I was seen by a doctor.
An MRI showed no broken bones in my face. X-rays showed a fracture of my right arm, near the elbow, but not too bad. By evening I was discharged with a splint on my arm and a prescription for pain meds. Kelsey took me home and took great care of me that night.
I was quite a spectacle, as you can see in this picture, which looks like a mug shot.
The next day, Dan came from Temple to take me home. I was certainly no longer an asset to the family; instead I had become a burden. Our good friends, Paul and Kathy, came with Dan, so that they could drive my car home. The blessing was in the timing, for the day that Dan took me home was the same day that Chris was discharged from the hospital, making it a bit easier on Kelsey to handle everything on her own.
A week or so later I was able to get an appointment with an orthopedic doctor. He took the splint off my arm, x-rayed it again, and said that the break was such that it probably would heal without a cast. He did put a sturdy elastic wrap on my arm, which he said could be taken off for showers. I was so happy not to have a cast.
It's been a little over six weeks now, since my fall. The bruising on my face is nearly gone (easily covered up with a little make-up), and my arm is feeling good as well. This Thursday I finally proclaimed myself "HEALED." I went and got a much-needed haircut, removed the elastic wrap from my arm and, that evening, went out to dinner with friends.
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