A couple of years ago, I had an incident. It was embarrassing at the time, but it's a story worth telling--at least to me. I want my grandson to hear about this, just in case he doesn't remember what happened when he grows up. It's funny how many of these past accounts are written for them — my grandchildren. I didn't see that coming at the beginning of my blogging life, but it's how it turned out, and I'm OK with that.
We were still living in Ohio at the time, and my daughter and her family had come to visit in August. It was warm and sunny, and we had lots of fun things planned. One of those was a trip to a farm. They held a big once-a-year event, and we were all excited as we walked through little craft tents, had lunch, did a little wine tasting, watched cows being milked, and dogs herding sheep — lots of family entertainment.
It happened at the dog herding event. We all love dogs, and I am especially fond of herding dogs. There we were watching that cute little dog herding all those sheep up and down the arena, back and forth. He was amazing. He listened to every whistle and watched every hand signal, never missing a beat. When it was over, we stood up on the bleachers and began to all file out. I, however, missed the last step.
Now, here is where the story is seen through my eyes as I lie in the dirt. I am sure that it might be a little different from the eyes of those standing around me, wondering--why on earth wasn't I just getting up? However, as I stood up to walk down the bleacher steps and reached the very last one, which was only about 6 inches off the ground, my foot literally wrapped around the bottom step, and I fell. As I was falling, I heard or felt a snap in my ankle. The pain wasn't what laid me out, though. As I lay there in the dirt on the ground, I went into a semi-shock state. It was the strangest thing. My family was around me trying to sit me up but every time I moved my head and tried to sit up I felt sick to my stomach, so I stayed there looking foolish just laying in the dirt. My ankle immediately began to swell. I could not focus on my family's faces. I could hear them talking, but their voices kept fading in and out. And I had to view everything through tunnel vision. I remember being very concerned about how all this was affecting my grandchildren. I didn't want them to be afraid--all this was going through my brain as I lay there on the ground in the dirt.
My husband and daughter were conferring; my son-in-law had taken the grandchildren as far away as possible; the park officials were standing around, looking bewildered; and there I lay. Finally, they asked — Can you walk to the car? Can you make it to this little golf cart? I kept shaking my head no. And the final question — do you need an ambulance? And then I nodded yes. I guess they knew something was wrong at that point because the next thing I knew, I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. The attendants were extremely nice and stuck with me throughout the ordeal right up until I was seen by a doctor in the ER. I do remember one of them running interference and not letting the nurse triage me out into a waiting area. The EMT insisted that I be seen right away because I had been given morphine. Did I mention that I love morphine? I do.
After the comfort of a soft gurney (it was better than laying in the dirt on the ground) I was given even more morphine and taken to x-ray. There, they discovered that I had broken a bone in my foot. Snap! I was given an awesome air cast, some not-so-awesome crutches, and lots more medication. And after just a few hours, I was sent home.
I couldn't wait to see my grandchildren and explain to them that I was just fine. That grandma was OK. Also, I wanted to sport that new Air Cast. I settled onto the sofa with my family sitting around me. And then my little grandson, who was 7 or 8 at the time, asked me if he could sit on the sofa with me. Of course, I said yes--pain or no pain, also remember I was heavily medicated. He carefully settled onto one end of the couch and very carefully lifted my foot to rest on his lap. And there we sat, or rather he sat, I reclined. His father was nervous at first that he was going to hurt me, but within seconds, we could all see the gentleness on the face of that sweet little boy. I think he and I sat that way for hours. At least I hope we did. It was the best.
It took weeks for that foot to heal up and months for the pain to subside. Even now, on cold Winter days, it will ache. So, I believe what they say. I can feel the weather in my foot. Oh yes, I can. I eventually went from air cast and crutches to a cane. My little granddaughter loved that cane! She was known to grab it from the umbrella stand and start doing a 2-step around my living room.
It was all worth it, though--breaking my foot. Because I can close my eyes and still see my sweet little grandson sitting on the end of my sofa, with him gently cradling my foot in his lap, with the most tender look on his face. I wonder what he'll be when he grows up. Him, with his tender heart.
It was such a silly fall, really. Inches off the ground, and I fall. Who does that? I guess I do.
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| Watching dog-herding one minute |
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| broken foot, the next |
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| loved this walking cast |
1 comment:
Loved the blog :-)
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