This weekend, VWife and I traveled back to Mayberry to visit with the Practice Grandchildren. I’ll ruin the story now and say much spoilage of little kids ensued, but that’s not the point of this tale.
‘Twas Thursday evening, and we were starting to get organized and packed for an early Firday departure. VWife, in her usual klutzy manner, decided that the suitcase needed to go into the bedroom to be loaded, and attempted to take it with her down the hall. She didn’t go far. Somehow, in a three-way collision involving wife, suitcase, and doorway, she jammed one side of said suitcase into the wall, and the opposite side into her leg, knocking her off her feet. VWife is a big girl, and all of her weight landed on her left artificial knee, and secondarily, her left wrist. She was in immediate severe pain.
Being the ex-EMT I am, I gave her a quick exam. She couldn’t move her left hand or fingers, nor could she do anything with her left leg or foot. Hmmm, potential broken wrist, and unsure about the leg because her knee is artificial, but whatever happened, it wasn’t good. So she’s laying in the hall, and I refuse to help her get up. Mostly because of latent injuries, but also because I can’t do it myself. I’ve regained a lot of my strength I had before I got sick last summer, but I’m still not able to bench press 180 lbs with just my left index finger. So I called 911 and summoned ambulance, with a fire assist for lifting. The operator was kind of impressed that I knew about that.
Fire arrived first, and one of the truckies was a new EMT-Basic so he did a fast assessment. By this time, VWife’s hand regained painful motion, as well as her foot. That was looking better. The ambulance arrived, did the full assessment and determined there were probably no fractures. The firemen lifted, I slid a kitchen chair under her butt, and all was well. She signed a refusal form, and everyone left.
The excitement was over, or we thought. As I was helping her up from the kitchen chair in the hallway so she could get to the couch, she looked down and saw a red bag with the initials of the fire department on the side. Mr New EMT had left their medical kit behind. Uh-oh…
After making sure she was settled and I could leave her for about 15 minutes, I left to take the jump bag to the station, which was about 4 blocks away. I walkied in to the station and shouted out, “KNOCK-KNOCK!”
“Yes, can we help you?” I turned the corner to see the crew that was just in my house sitting in the day room.
I didn’t say a word, but produced the bag from behind my back. The jeers and catcalls aimed at the EMT guy were immediate and loud. Fire stations are all the same… I told a couple of quick war stories, and made sure the kid heard about a couple of my screw-ups from in The Day just so he knew it happens to everyone.
So, to end this, VWife’s knee is about the size of a volleyball, and one of the most impressive shades of purple you’d ever see. She’s blackmailing me with it, because she says if she has to see a doctor now, all she has to do is tell them I did it to her.
Today is a rainy day that isn’t supposed to get above 75F. I’ll be glad to see the sunshine again.