Last we chatted, I was picking myself off the floor of our local Lowe’s after a sugar-induced slump faint. (Ironically, Krispy Kreme and Lowe’s share the same parking lot. It’s as if the donuts were mocking me!)
We’d only moved into the neighborhood less than a week before, and this was a fine How do ya do! I pulled it together, and me and my increasingly bulging disc spent another couple of days painting and getting the house ready for furniture.
The movers arrived the same day as my mother. She was *super* helpful, if by helpful I mean starting a lot of sentences with “You know what you need?” We hadn’t lived there a week yet – we needed a LOT of things! What we didn’t need were reminders of things we needed! Apparently, my precious plumber/electrician/landscaper sourcing time had been spent eating donuts and taking a cat nap on the floor of the big chain hardware store.
I really have no idea what happened between Tuesday and Friday. Really, it’s like I have amnesia from that time, but I will never forget what happened on Saturday.
I was in the shower, soaping up my hair, when I heard my mom’s cell phone ring. Chris was in the den on Skype with my brother-in-law. My mother’s cell phone rings loud and frantically, like a house on fire. It scares me to death to this day. Anyway, her phone rang and immediately my mind said “DON’T RUN TO THE PHONE.”
The next thing I heard was my mother falling down our entire flight of stairs.
I leapt from the shower, grabbing a towel, as Chris jumped off the computer (he’d only seen her tumble out the bottom of the narrow stairwell). The dog was jumping on her, and she was holding her elbow. Her glasses were broken and her eye was starting to swell up. Chris called 911 as I threw the dog into the backyard. She said, “My hips are fine, but I think my arm is broken.” She wasn’t crying or making any other sound. I quickly jumped into the shower to get the rest of the shampoo out of my hair (I know, right? But I was out of my mind with fear) and then threw on some clothes. By the time I was dressed, the fire crew was there and their first question was, “Is this your dog?”
Cady had found an open gate in our new yard and had run into the front yard. We had no idea. She could have been 20 blocks away by the time we were on our way to the hospital, but she’d come trotting in with the EMT’s instead! This is the dog that was almost maced by the postman, who used to run away at our old house for 8 hours at a time chasing deer, and she hadn’t even barked at the firetruck or everyone in uniform. It was some sort of miracle dog moment.
My mom answered questions, I answered questions, and pretty soon the ambulance arrived. Then they asked me, “What hospital would you like us to take her to?” I was dumbfounded. I just said “We’ve lived here a week. I have no idea. Pick whatever’s closest.”
Long story, well, long, we spent the rest of the day at the hospital. PS. It was Chris’ birthday. The cell phone call had been my brother calling to wish Chris a Happy Birthday.
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My mom had broken her arm in four places, including a fracture in the ball in her shoulder socket. Frankly, as far as I was concerned, she was lucky to be alive. Because our staircase is enclosed on both sides, she had been able to put her arms out to try to slow herself down but she still fell an entire flight of stairs.
Fast forward through a hospital stay – her first since she gave birth to my brother 40 years ago – lots of conversations with nurses, my mother acting perfectly lovely while on Morphine and then abysmally hateful once the Morphine was cut off. Every time we visited her, she had that g-d cell phone glued to her ear. “You’ll never guess what I did!” she was telling all her friends.
Her 5 day stay lasted 13 days as she recuperated enough to be able to fly home. Meanwhile, we tried to put together the house around her. “Can I help?” she would ask. “No!” I squawked. “Just sit there and HEAL.” Honestly, I may be the worst daughter in the world, but she’s the worst patient ever! (My relationship with MOC is problematic at best, and this situation only highlighted the worst in us. It wasn’t pretty)
I’ve failed to mention that a few days before my mom’s accident, my back had gotten so bad I was almost unable to walk. At some point (maybe during those days that I can’t remember) I’d gotten an appointment with a nurse practitioner who’d given me some anti-inflammatories. During one of my mom’s follow-ups with an orthopedic doctor, I got a referral to a fabulous spine doctor and slipped that appointment in while my mom was recuperating. One MRI later, I was on Prednisone and pain killers. At one point, Chris was the only one in the house NOT on pain killers, and I bet he wished he had been.
And that, my friends, is how we started our new life in Seattle. By the time my mom had flown home, and I’d finished two courses of Prednisone, I’d gained about 12 lbs. on top of the 5 I’d gained coming across country. That’s pretty much how I spent my summer “vacation” 2006 – getting fat but full of gratitude that my mother hadn’t died in our new house before the ink on the mortgage papers was even dry.
So my goals for 2010:
1. Lose 20 lbs.
2. See how much I can lose by May when we go to DisneyWorld.
3. Follow my thyroid protocol.
4. Establish a regular exercise routine.
5. Continue to eat clean and healthy.
6. Continue to follow healthy bloggers and blog my progress.
That’s it. Nothing fancy. Nothing too crazy. If I throw in a 5k walk here and there, then go me!
I think I deserve it! Don’t you?
