Return to Operation Idiot

No, it wasn't me this time. It was my mom. She has the symptoms of Crohne's Disease, and yet, they're not. See, she has rheumatoid arthritis, fibromyalgia, back surgery 2 years ago, and neck surgery this summer. Why am I telling you all this? I am trying to get you to see what shape my mom was in. Well, we're getting to be regulars with the EMT staff. Before last Friday, they never even heard of us, but now they have two Jones' in their tally books in less than a week. My mom has to use a walker around the house, and it's got a seat and large wheels. Then, a few nights ago, she was sitting on it feeding the family dog and leaned forward. Now, these brakes on the walker are older than Moses, and they were set, but they were of little use to her in this instance. Well, sir, according to my mom, the walker rolled one way and mom fell the direct opposite. We went into first response mode, well, as far as we dare. She asked for a neck pillow, Sara's (our pooch) footstool, and a towel for her knees. After many failed attempts, we got the bright idea to raise her with a car jack. Something was nagging at me, though. Anyhow, ignoring that feeling, we got that heavy-duty jack ready. I don't think we had enough surface area, 2' squared, for mom. Good thing we didn't have to find out. It was decided upon calling 911; again. After the call, I spent my time nervously awaiting the EMT's, hoping they would be different ones. No such luck. Oh, and that little thing I forgot; sliding a board down mom's back. We had done something like that, only with a sheet or plyboard and it almost worked. The sheet of plywood just needed to be more tough and little longer. We also needed more hands. Due to all her problems she claimed to being "dead weight," but she came up rather easily. One of the EMT's recognized me, and then and there, I knew I was busted. He asked about how many stitches they put in while the female EMT was caught up with our Cockatiels. Looks like the Stooges have made a curtain call.

Operation: Idiot

Okay. So you know that my physical therapy is not completed yet, right? Well, my mom's surgery turned into my dad's emergency surgery. Anywho, here I am in early November when my dad comes home, and late in the evening, when we were all shuffling off to bed, and that meant upstairs for me. I was 3/4 of the way up the stairs when my left big toe hit one of the stair step walls, and I went flying down the stairwell. For a time, I was parallel with the railing, but I just couldn't land it. --> Carpet burns, bad bruises, and lacerations on my knee, and head. Funny thing about the head, it carries a large amount of blood and I found that out as I lie there at the bottom with a 10 in. gash in my cabasa. The gash was so deep that at one point, you could see my skull. You couldn't stop my bleeding and to hold pressure on that wound, would've been impossible to do just from the volume of it. As soon as 911 was dialed, and we, or at least I, Finally, I knew what it was like to have those sirens wailing for someone, anyone but me. I wasn't scared for me, but for my family and neighbors. That ambulance must have woken them up. See, this has not been my first ambulance giddy-up. My first rodeo came in 2006 when I was volunteering for the DRMC or Denton Regional Medical Center. I was stuffing the paper recycler full of soon-to-refurbished-documents and had a grand-mal seizure with all the works. That sucker had to be 3/4 the size of me, and weighed more, but when everything was said and over with, the paper recycler was on it's side, and me with it. I had tackled it. I had also received 2-3" cut on my hand. I was epileptic, and that was all the excuse they needed to drag out the ambulance. Imagine: taking me from a medical building (already connected to the hospital) 300 ft to ER, who, bty, merely dressed my hand and dismissed me. The price of insurance! Back to the subject at hand, my fall last week, which was much worse than in 2006. As the paramedics hauled my sorry carcass out the front door, all I could see was up. That was partly due to the neck and head brace they'd put on me. So I saw a new side of things that day. The ambulance transported me across the main road to the soccer field just in front of the house. It all took place in the parking lot; a transfer from ambulance to chopper. My first. In order not to screw this one up as well, I let the nurses on board do their business i.e. temp, bp, multiple blood draws and sticks. 10-15 min later we arrived at the hospital the paramedics recommended, and they rushed me into an ER room. It is weird how the ceiling of my room looked like a real surgery room (don't ask). I don't know how long we waited, but eventually, they took me in for x-rays, and a cat scan. It was about 4:30-5 in the cock a doodle when I was released from my headgear, and was able to get a doctor to get stitched, sutured, and sewn up. 20 stitches and 1 suture later, I was released. So with that finally accomplished, it was 6 in the am, we had all missed out on good night's sleep, and maybe just a tad bit cranky? All that drama for nothing? Sounds like a really, bad movie; say, maybe the Three Stooges could pull it off. They usually play idiots.