Monday, December 20, 2010
I Fell & Lived to Tell
I arrived at her house to pick her up. My brother-in-law, Joe, told me my husband had already taken her down.
"Why, her appointment isn't until 10:40 and," I looked down at the clock to the right of the dash, "it's only 10:15." It's important to note that we live literally five minutes from everywhere in this town. So I had plenty of time.
I started down the road to the same doctor's office I have taken her every month since we moved here. I ran into my husband heading back to pick up Joe. I turned around and met him back at the house. Which turned out to be a very good thing.
I parked, hopped out of the truck and tossed them both the look.
"Don't give us that look. We're not the ones who are late," Joe said, his laugh echoing from the passenger seat.
My husband laughed. I laughed - not so much.
"I have your phone and your gas money," I said to hubby as I crossed the street.
"Hey, you know which doctor you're going to right?" hubby asked.
"Uh, yeah, same one as always."
"No, mom's at the one across from the high school. You know that brown building to the left of where the crossing guard stands every morning?" hubby asked when I gave him the blink-blink.
"Oh, okay." And off I went.
I got to the office just as she was coming out. She scheduled her next appointment, which I can assure not to forget or be late for because it's on my birthday.
I pulled the truck around, helped her into the front seat & we headed out to the grocery store. When she had picked up her prescription & some groceries, we decided it was time for lunch.
We went to her favorite restaurant; all homemade, all fresh. Bread so warm, you swear it will melt in your hands. The best BLT you've ever had in your life - untoasted with wimpy bacon in my case.
After lunch, we made our way back to the truck. And I said, "I have to stop by my house real quick before I take you home."
"Okay," she said.
We chatted all the way to the house. I parked in my driveway, turned to her and said, "I'll be right back."
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Take your time."
This is that moment where the average gal would have said, "Oh, yeah, good idea." Not me, I charged right up that first step, the toe of my boot caught the second and those Trex boards and I had an inauspicious meet. I flipped to my side to lessen the impact, whacked my head on the final step and lay there for a second.
Poor Mary, who is 84 years old & uses a walker, watched this whole thing play out. Tried to scramble and figure out how she could get out of the truck, pick her way around the front and reach the gate without falling. Before she made the attempt, I sat up, produced a smile and double thumbs up and proceeded inside.
As if this whole thing weren't bad enough; broad daylight, witnesses, the regular stuff character building moments are made of. I then had to tell the story four different times that night. And again a few more because that meet and greet with the boards led me straight to an up close and personal relationship with my heating pad all weekend.
Good news, I'm pretty darned hard-headed, so the bump cleared by Sunday. Bad news, back's still swollen, shin is bruised and from shoulder to wrist is tender. Yeah, those character building moments just don't have as much impact unless you have the wounds as a reminder.