Valentine's Day is usually one of the least eventful holidays. Today, however, was an exception.
After taking a French test, working an hour, and getting ready, I drove home to visit. I haven't spent Valentine's Day with my family for four years.
When I got home, my mom told me that my dad had fainted shortly after getting to work this morning. He went to the doctor's, and they ran some tests, but they're not sure what caused the fainting. He won't go back to work for a few days. Hopefully it wasn't anything serious. (I'm familiar with the idea of fainting.)
My mom and I went out to get pizzas for dinner, and while one of them was cooking, I talked with my mom while she was cleaning the bathroom. Then the pizza got done, and we were walking downstairs to go eat it and watch Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown. My mom was in the lead.
At the bottom step, suddenly my mom kind of slumped, screamed, and said, "It's broken!" There was that feeling in the air of "I can't believe this is happening!" I didn't know what to do--does a broken leg merit a 911 call? It did, so I made an emergency call. As I had to describe what was going on to the dispatcher, that was when I realized how serious it was. My mom was bleeding at the ankle--the bones had broken through, apparently, although I didn't see. I didn't dare look. I didn't think it would be good for me to faint while my mom's leg was broken and the same day that my dad fainted. I did see enough, though, to know that her foot was at a completely wrong angle from her leg.
My mom, ever the responsible optimist, was remarkably chipper, all things considered. She was joking around, and the first thing she asked for was her phone so that she could call one of her Primary counselors to let them know she wouldn't be in on Sunday. (I think she wins the award for Primary President of the year!)
I called my sister, Susanne, who is a nurse. She said she was going to come over, even though my mom said she didn't need to. It's good she did, though, because she's more responsible than my dad and I, and she knows more about medicine than we do. She instructed me to stay home to watch over my dad. I almost think my dad feels worse about the break than my mom does!
The ambulance arrived, and they put a splint on my mom's leg. Then we helped get her in a chair they could easily get up the stairs. Then they transferred her to a gurney.
Before leaving, Susanne said to me, "Will you clean up..." I thought she was going to say "the pizza," but she said, "the blood." The pizza was easily salvaged (it was a stuffed pizza, so there wasn't much on top), and then I spent the next little time using cold water to blot up blood. There's probably still some in the carpet, but I don't think anyone will know. (Except that I just publicly announced it.) I had to throw away the sock the paramedics cut off, which was full of curdled blood.
Although this was a most unfortunate event, it could have been worse. It didn't happen on a mountain, as happened to her in 1989. (Maybe it was 1990. I don't know, I was a baby.) It didn't happen outside on ice, as happened to her in 2000. It happened while both my dad and I were there. I was thinking I'm glad we aren't cavemen, because I don't know what cavemen would do in that situation.
I've heard that they are taking her into surgery tonight, and she should be able to come home tomorrow (tomorrow being February 15, since I don't know when you are reading this).
This is definitely a Valentine's Day to go down in Melville history.
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