So about 10 days ago I had an incident. Nothing fun or fabulous, nothing amazing or life changing, I just fell…down our stairs. No I’m serious. I fell face first down a flight of stairs.
Last thing I remember I was going to check on Eli, got a little “light-headed”, and BOOM, next thing I know, 5 minutes have passed and I’m being woken up by frantic dogs licking me. I immediately knew my arm was broken, it hurt really bad and had a weird bump. I also knew I needed to do a couple things. First, check on Eli, who was fine by the way, just pissed cause his show was over, and second, get to my phone and call for “help”.
Now here’s where my somewhat fucked up logic comes into play. Most people,with an obviously broken arm that had just fallen down the stairs would call 911, right? Ya, not me. Nope. I first called my daughters middle school, cause it’s across the street and I figured they could come take care of Eli for me. In hind sight, a frantic sobbing concussed woman calling the sweet lady at the front desk of my kids very small school requesting she hurry them out the door toward “home” was a bad idea. Turns out they call the sheriff to escort minors home. Good to know.
Then, I called my husband, who works an hour away, to tell him I had taken a spill. But of course he was in a meeting, so I had his secretary (I know, OMG no I didn’t!) find him and ask him to call me immediately. I also went ahead and told her I had fallen and broken my arm, cause why the fuck wouldn’t I? Not surprisingly, my sweet husband called me immediately and said this…”Holy shit Love! Why the FUCK haven’t you called 911?!?!” I then had to explain to him that, duh, I hadn’t showered yet and the house had Lego’s all over it and the dogs needed fed and I didn’t have a bra on so, of COURSE I couldn’t call 911. Obviously!
He very calmly said to me “OMG! Hang up the phone, call 911, have them take you to McKay Dee hospital and I will meet you there! OMG love! And tell the girls to keep their fucking phones on and take care of Eli!” (We do really well in a crisis)
So being the obedient wife I am, I promptly called 911, gave the dispatcher my information and while she was telling me to stay calm and that help was on the way, I hauled my broken ass all over my house frantically cleaning up toys,putting dogs outside, changing TV channels and deciding if I could SOMEHOW get a bra on and my hair fixed before the Po-Po showed up. Cause god forbid people judge my appearance or my house keeping skills while strapping my ass to a back board.
Needless to say, the sheriff, firemen and paramedics didn’t really care about my appearance or the state of my house, turns out they’ve seen worse. They were kind and helpful and kept me and my kids calm during the ordeal and got me to the hospital where my husband was indeed waiting.
I now get to spend the next 6-7 weeks in an awesome purple cast wearing a hat and sunglasses whenever I go to the store, because our town is SMALL and it turns out news of the crazy lady that face planted down her stairs travels fast. So awesome.
You’re Welcome World
PS: I am working with a Dr to figure out why I blacked out (FYI, don’t tell people you “passed out” and fell down stairs, they assume you’re drunk) It all appears to be related to my kidney issues…blah blah blah. I will keep you posted!