February 2, 2005
Fall
CP’s lived in our house some forty years and has only fallen down the 13-step staircase twice.
The second time was at four in the morning on a recent Friday. It was the result of cardiac arrest. Thanks be to God, medical attendance was prompt and efficient, and a stent spared any damage to her heart.
Not a bone got broken, but the massive bruises left her looking rather like the Tattooed Lady at the State Fair. She is at home now and well enough to have already placed her spring garden order. She gets another stent this very morning.
Her first fall shortly after moving into this same house, same stairs, but four decades ago was more a result of a failed balancing act of too many hands full of stuff in one hand plus a cup of coffee in the other. Fortunately, she was more dazed than injured.
Hearing her fall, however, her two-year old son came running from another room, stood staring in utter amazement, ran hurriedly back, then returned, gently and graciously offering her his teddy bear.
I wasn’t here for that one. All I could do when I found her this time was to check her vitals, then call 911 and our wonder doc who lives just around the corner. But even with all that emergency brass, we could have for sure used another teddy bear.