03 January 2013

Heels Over Head

weapons of choice

a real-life adventure

Read Part X here.

Now available in ebook format!


Having covered a few mock disasters in my Clark Kent days, I instinctively knew my injuries were not the worst after all. Triage had placed me at the bottom of the list, which translated into a diagnosis of "just fine." It meant I was going to be left holding four worthless baseball tickets by the time the evening was over.

I wondered if my children were hungry. I wondered if they'd ever get in a car again. I tried picturing them with slings on their arms and bandages on their heads. Everyone kept saying they were fine, but I still didn't know for sure because I hadn't seen them.

I hoped someone would offer to take them to the hospital cafeteria. I had enough money in my purse to cover their meals. If my purse could be found. I sure didn't have it. It had been removed from my car, or at least I thought it had, but it wasn't handed to me, probably for good reason. The cheerful, witty paramedic wouldn't have been too happy with me if I'd been digging through my purse while he was trying to redesign my clothing. Especially if I'd come across my embroidery scissors or a knitting needle to even the odds... I've often wondered if a crochet hook can be used to decoratively place permanent knots in a human mane. Craft tools aren't considered lethal weapons, right?

Three hours into my hospital stay, a state police officer wandered into my examination room. It was the first time since my arrival that anyone had addressed me more than in passing.

"I've talked to your children," he said, building an air of humor. "They told me what happened. But I thought I'd get your version just in case they left anything out."

I couldn't help but smile, even though I really didn't feel like doing anything with my facial muscles but scowl.

"I never know if humor is appropriate when I come in here," he said. "I hope your smile means you're feeling better than you look."

"I don't know how I look," I responded, hoping to maintain the cheerful mood, at least for the moment.

He chuckled, shaking his head, then cut to the chase.

"Do you feel up to talking about the accident?"

"I'll have to sooner or later. Might as well get it over with." I tried to snicker, but the dried blood caked all over my face pulled my skin too tight for aggressive movement.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I remember everything, but I'm not sure I know what happened."


Read Part XII here.

Table of Contents

Copyright 2013 by Deborah and Brett Atkinson
All rights reserved. No part of this book - prose, photos or graphics - may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express prior written permission of the author.

16 comments :

  1. Sounds like you had a sensitive, caring police officer to ask you what happened. I'm glad he told you he'd spoken to the kids. That must have made you feel a little better.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think it did help to finally have a real person in the room with me. I think I was still too much in shock, though, to calm down too much.

      Delete
  2. Wow Deb, what a story! I find myself on the edge of my seat. Your memories have triggered some of my own from the mid-80s when we totaled our Subaru sedan, or rather, a semi on Interstate 80 did. How frightening.

    Happy New Year to you - I wish you all the best in 2013!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, man, Patty! A Subaru is even smaller than a Corolla! I'm so glad you're still here with us!!!

      I hope 2013 is a wonderful year for you, too!

      Delete
  3. I am new to your site as of today…so I don’t know if you share a new chapter each week or ??? I read everything in one sitting this morning! Please continue to add more or share where I may find your complete writings!
    I am an emergency room social worker in a level 1 pediatric trauma center. We have children in need from a several hundred mile radius flown in to our facility each day. We are next door to the adult trauma hospital and we often seem to "share" families! The parents go next door and the kiddos come to us. So, I go to the parent’s bedside to get a name/number of an adult to call to come be with their child….and I try to share what the docs have said about the child's injuries along with something their little one said or did, or how entertaining they are for the staff, or polite, or helpful...beautiful red hair...whatever to make it clear I am talking specifically about their baby….all in an effort to ease parents hearts so they can let medical staff take care of them…. and then I take back ‘mom and dad words’ to the kids....they know when you quote their loved one exactly! It's nice to hear that you gained comfort from the officer....wish you hadn't had to wait so long. Children are generally transported first, so I am ready when the adults land next door…..I am usually next to the parent's bedside in the trauma bay while they are cutting the clothes and starting IV's...I try to be quick and have something positive to say. If nothing positive is possible, I tell them I will remain at their child's side until they or a family member take my place....and I will continue to pop in as I can to give them updates. I know that's what I would want. I am so thankful you and your babies were okay...well, relatively okay! I want to hear more! Bless you and may this year be a good one for us all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Anonymous, and welcome! I think what you do is awesome! I don't think the hospital I was at had such service back then. I don't know if they do now, but that would have been so awesome back then. Maybe it was situations such as this that brought that kind of service into existence?!?!?

      I do have an index of all the chapters, but it sounds like you've already read them all. The index is located here. I've just submitted the entire book to the US Copyright Office (YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and so the entire book (which is short) will be available in e-format soon. I'll put links to that on the index page as soon as I cross that hurdle.

      Best wishes to you in the coming year, too, and keep doing that magnificent work you are doing! I can tell you from experience, what you are doing truly does make a difference.

      Delete
  4. Your last sentence sounds so very familiar. I think that I've said that after every car and bike wreck I've been in.

    It sounds awful having to wait so long all by yourself. I like the new service that your first commenter mentioned. It sounds like it would have helped you a lot.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. KB, we have SO much in common!

      I wish every hospital could have the services Anonymous describes. Maybe more of them do now...

      Delete
  5. I'm so glad you could talk to the police officer and that he told you your kids were alright.

    I had a great stay in Rome with one exception. The food was expensive and not good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Cat. Rome doesn't have fabulous pizza?!? What's up with that??? ;)

      Delete
  6. Happy, healthy, New Year to your and your honey. I will never cease to be amazed by you. So much you do for others, so much you've been through. Its only through our sufferings that we find compassion for others. God bless.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think you are so right, Glor. What we go through forms and shapes us. One of the reasons I wrote about this experience is because of how it changed me for life. I like the changes. And I'm glad I lived to tell!

      Delete
  7. Oh golly, the tension just keeps building. I'm glad you had a nice police officer; and where oh where is your purse? That would be bugging the heck out of me - I'd be wondering if someone was playing fast and loose with the credit cards.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thankfully, I had no credit cards then. Just a checkbook. It wouldn't have gotten far because there wasn't much in the account. :)

      Suspense... just wait until next week. If next week doesn't drop your jaw, you are made of stone. :)

      Delete
  8. Got to dig a police officer with good bed side manners

    ReplyDelete


Dusty words lying under carpets,
seldom heard, well must you keep your secrets
locked inside, hidden deep from view?
You can talk to me... (Stevie Nicks)

All spam is promptly and cheerfully deleted without ever appearing in print.

I apologize for turning off anonymous posting for a while. Too much garbage coming through; hope to get anonymous comments turned back on after a short break. If you don't have a Google account and need to contact me, please use the email address in the sidebar. Thank you!

Related Posts with Thumbnails