As Michael has mentioned I had a slight mishap a couple of weeks ago. And as Michael sometimes does (!) he has asked for documentation. So here goes.

I heard the break. The same sound that delights one as a child when we crack our knuckles. Only louder. It was 8:15 AM and I was going (rushing, trotting) down the stairs I have been going down for nearly 12 years (who knew I needed more practice). It was just me and my Matthew and he had a much looked forward to field trip to the Butterfly Museum that day. I was rushing because I had to get his lunch packed, something I never do as he prefers to buy lunch. Anyway, his backpack was downstairs and this was my destination. My left foot slipped third step from the bottom and my right leg went under me. As I say I heard the break. I also felt heat rising from my legs on up. I asked Matthew to get me an ice pack at which point I passed out. I didn’t think you could pass out when you were in a seated position but apparently you can. I came to with Matthew standing over me screaming “Mom, Mom, Mom”. Did I mention I heard the break? I told Matthew to go to the phone and call his grandmother as I didn’t want him calling 911 because I knew it would scare him. Lo and behold, there is no dial tone. I thought my phone was out of order but in fact the teen-age daughter had left a phone off the hook the previous night, which wouldn’t be figured out until much later when it didn’t matter anymore. So, panic setting in and my ankle turning into a softball, I had to ask Matthew to find my cell phone. When it was unfindable I needed him to go the neighbors. He went to two houses and came back, sobbing, saying that no one answered the door. So I sent him across the street to the people we don’t know well and the next thing I hear an adult male in my house saying “hello, does someone need help”. “I’m down here (literally)” I reply. He went in my freezer and with Matthew’s help locating plastic bags, gave me ice for my ankle. He tells me his name is Greg. I tell him I’m Chris. I ask Greg to call my cell phone so at least we located it. But at the bottom of my stairs I had no reception, so it was a moot point. He called my mother-in-law who, as she has done countless times in our adult lives, came to the rescue. Greg left and it was me and Matthew. “Mom, did I miss the bus?” he asked me as he was pacing around with his backpack on his back. “Yes you did Matthew. But I promise we’ll make it up to you and take you to the Butterfly Museum ourselves”. “I want to go to school” he replied. This poor kid desperately needed things to be normal while his mother, in pain but if I say so myself holding it together quite well, was on the floor unable to move. I hugged him. He asked me if I needed anything. A wet, cold face cloth I replied. He brought it to me. In the meantime I dialed Mark’s number at work and sent Matthew upstairs to actually place the call and tell Daddy to come home. Which he very calmly did. My mother-in-law arrived and called 911. It must have been a tremendous relief for Matthew when Nana came as he disappeared from the downstairs as fast as he could. Ambulances, etc, arrived immediately. By the way, when you call 911 from a cell phone the state police come as well. Who knew.

So now these lovely paramedics who cannot possibly be paid enough to do everything they do got me upstairs in a stair chair. Quite unnerving for both them and me. I gave a shout goodbye out to Matthew and told him I was going to be fine. He yelled goodbye from behind a closed door. He later told me that he watched them all come in the house but he just couldn’t watch them take me out of the house “it would have added to my stress”. I told him that even Batman had to stay in the Bat cave sometimes and it was quite alright.

So off I go in the back of the ambulance, clutching the face cloth that Matthew had given me. I was in the hands of driver Bobby and Frank, who gave me a bucket as the ride was making me nauseous. While I was waiting to be x-rayed Mark showed up. This is when I finally fell apart. I told him how brave Matthew had been and he said when he got to the house Matthew had given him a big hug and grilled him about what his where-abouts would be the rest of the day. An ER doctor came and started to question me on what happened. Upon hearing that I passed out, and making sure that I passed out after the fall and not before the fall, the conversation went as follows:

ER Doc: “Have you ever passed out from pain before”
Me: “no. I’ve never passed out before”
Mark (from across the room where I was sure he had glazed over): “yes you have”.
Me: “I have?”
Mark: “yes, that time in that class”

And it came back to me in all its humiliating splendor. Back in 1984 I was taking an aerobics class at the Joy of Movement in Watertown, pulled a hamstring, and came to surrounded by paramedics. My friend Laurin was with me and either from the circumstance or relief from the fact that I was okay, was laughing hysterically. I relayed the story to the ER doc who also got a chuckle out of this.

After the x-ray came back I was told I was lucky (not exactly how I would describe how I felt). It was a clean ankle break, distal right fibula. Call an orthopedist, here are your narcotics, a 20 second lesson on how to use crutches, the knee length boot was put on and they sent me home. I was still clutching the blue face cloth Matthew had given me. I gave it to Mark, who put it in the bucket the ambulance man had given me, they wheeled me out of there, and home I went.

When I got home, my father-in-law had joined my mother-in-law and they had brought Matthew out to breakfast. They then went to the grocery store and loaded us up with food. Matthew wouldn’t come near me. He wouldn’t for days. If I asked for a hug they were given with him bending over and his arms outstretched so as not to get near me. He told me he was scared when my leg hurt and he didn’t want to be near my leg. Who could blame him. I spent a lot of time telling him how brave he was and how proud of him I am and how there can be emergencies but life goes back to normal afterward. Still, Mark and I are concerned that his college fund is now his post traumatic stress fund.

My mother-in-law is taking Matthew to the Butterfly Museum next week.

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