So I took my mom out to lunch in Mexico this morning. I was supposed to work on Sunday, so today was the day to do it. Found a new place to eat, on the 4th floor of a tiny building very near the international bridge. The only way to enter was via the glass elevator that seemed to have been lashed to the outside of said tiny building as an afterthought. The enitre floor was the resturaunt, no walls inside at all. Cool. The food was pretty much par for border-town food - nothing amazing, but still pretty damn tasty, ya know? And they made some very tasty margaritas… Mom had two of 'em.
We had parked roughly 1/4 of a mile away, on the US side. It’s usually easier that way. One can walk across, take care of buisness, and walk back in 20 minutes. Driving across and back would add about an hour or so to the trip.
Heading home, once you get past the turnstiles on the Mexican side of the bridge, there is a small plaza with benches, planters, etc before you are properly on the bridge over the Rio Grande. My mother was holding a can of diet soda in one hand, and se began to rub her eye with the other. She wears contacts, and told me there was something in her eye. She began to head towards a public restroom, and I took the opportunity to light a smoke and enjoy the nice weather.
I turned just in time to see her graze one of the planters with her left foot. Enough to trip her.
She hit hard. No time to get her hands up to break her fall. She was already face-down on the rough concrete by the time I got to her. She was crying. That was a good thing-- she was still alive, and even better, awake. I got close, and saw there was a pool of blood spreading as large as her face within maybe 10 seconds of her hitting the pavement. Not good.
A man I have never met, and I’ll probably never see again, took off his white shirt and handed it to me. I went right into boyscout mode and got the direct pressure thing going on. By then, some folks from the toolbooths had caught on, and we managed to get an ambulancia to show up pretty quickly. While I was waiting, we got her sitting up (elevate the wound) and I took a look. Not good.
I had already checked the ground for teeth, and hadn’t found any. Good. I took a closer look at my mom’s mouth. Okay, all teeth accounted for. Her nose and lip seemed to have absorbed most of the damage. She was awake and alert, I asked if she could see (she wears hard contact lenses), and checked her eyes to be sure. Eyes okay, good. Nose, not good, but not off to one side, either. Upper lip, shot to hell.
We got her loaded and across the bridge. INS peeked in the back when we wer back in the US, and waved us on. We had to stop about a hundred feet later. I jumped out and quickly gave the customs officer who was waving at us some contact info. I ran into the now shirtless bystander who had just completed his walk across, thanked him, and ran for my mom’s car.
Peeled out, turned on my hazards, and waved at the driver of the Ambulancia. I did something new today: I drove 80 mph in a 45 zone, in the wrong lane, through more than a few red lights. Dumb, I know, but at least I had someone clearing a path for me.
So we made it to the hospital. I checked, we got there at 13:46. There was no attendant in the Ambulancia, so I had to jump in and help unload the mom unit. No raido, either, so we went in the ER doors unannounced. Oh, and the gurney was broken, so my mom rode in about a foot off of the floor. I get diverted to another room, gotta do the paperwork thang, right?
Took care of that, and I head back in the ER. Someone wearing scrubs intercepts me, steers me to he driver who brought her here from Progresso. Ah, he’s not going to leave until he gets paid. Fair enough, as we’ll never see each other again. I grab a random bill from my wallet. It’s a twenty. He asked if I wanted change. Gads, I was aming for a hundred…
We spent the next five hours in there. Not a problem. There were worse things going on around us, and my mother was kept comfortable and got looked to fairly promptly. I went in and out of there a few times, and honestly, there were folks waiting for triage outside in nearly as bad of shape as her. Helpful hint: if you REALLY need to go to the hospital, don’t drive there yerself. Spring for the EMTs.
While we were waiting for a while, my mother asks me about the bloodsoaked shirt she arrived with. Aww, shit. I ask a few questions, she asks a few back at me, and I learn she’s missing around 10 to 15 minutes of her memory right after her fall. I passed the word on, and a CT was added to the Xray she was already in line for.
I had to go outside for a while around then, and smoke many cigarettes. I went back in, and was told she was off having her pictures taken, well let you know when she’s done. Went outside for more smokes. An hour’s worth. So I went and asked if someone could take me back there to her, and it turns out she’s nearly done. Here’s the hard part. I didn’t have the heart to tell her when I first saw her face, and I’m having trouble even typing this.
They did a damn good job of sewing her upper lip back on. That’s why she didn’t lose any teeth (besides one small chip). She nearly bit her entire upper lip clean off, along with the damage done on the outside, she had a lot of stuff hanging off when she opened her mouth.
Around six pm, the MD started making satisfied sounds, and soon Mom was cleared to go home. So we made our way to a nearby grocery store to fill her scrips. Bought a shitload of ice cream while we were at it. While we were waiting in line, mom started feeling a little woozy, like maybe the Darvon had kicked in, and went to sit on a bench outside. I paid for stuff, and went to bring the car around to the front of the store.
Okay, now for the really hard part.
I pulled up maybe 6 feet away from her and opened her door from the inside. She was about halfway to the car when I saw she wasn’t going to make it, she was fainting, falling face-forward into the car. I was scrambling to unbelt myself, get the car out of gear, and get around to help. I didn’t even come close. I started yelling (probably FUCK FUCK FUCK!, or something similar to that), got the door open and got out. And heard someone screaming “STOP THE CAR!”
Yeah. I’d left it in gear. I dove in, got it stopped, I think I just crawled around the car, no time to stand up. Mom is there, it doesn’t look like she has any new injuries. While I was checking her, I remember asking anyone I could meake eye contact with if I had run over her. Someone called for paramedics. Nobody would tell me if the car had run over her.
Thankfully, it turns out she had been clear of the car. I helped roll her onto a board, her neck was stabalized, and off she went back to the hospital. I had to sit down on the curb for a while before felt safe to drive back over there.
I need to end this and go to bed. So the rest of the story is she was admitted and later transported to a different part of the hospital. Her blood pressure when she returned after the second fall was 62/43 for a while. Up to 167/122. And back down. and back up…
Me, I got home almost exactly 12 hours after she first fell. And I’m stuck with the knowledge that I nearly killed my mother today.
I’m done. I think.
Let me just add, my mother’s a Doper, and I think it’s best I with hold her screenname for now, but any wishes sent her way will get there pretty quick.
P.S. I’m sure there are many spelling mistakes, places where I switch tense mid-sentence, grammar disasters a-plenty, and so on. Please feel free to print any corrections you may have in a large font, on many sheets of heavy paper. That way it will hurt more when I fold 'em until they’re all corners and “resubmit” them to you.
