Things we learned at the end of October:
1. Dry leaves on top of other dry leaves are not a stable surface.
2. Our next-door neighbor, the Widow Douglas, is perturbed to see even one leaf on her lawn, as if they are so much suburban litter.
3. Uneven ground is more dangerous than leaves, wet or dry.
4. Mr. R, our neighbor across the street, may smoke a cigar while doing yard work, but he has a heart of gold.
5. Our Boy Scout son might be at marching band when we need his first aid skills, but it is great that he is a responsible driver, and a patient son.
6. My mother-in-law’s stubbornness has been passed down to my husband.
Last week I fell down while raking leaves, but my fall was well padded, not just by the leaves but my own natural padding. No harm done.
The Widow Douglas said to me, “I don’t even HAVE any trees! But I have all these leaves on my lawn!” She and I both know that those leaves blew there from our trees. Our neighbor across the street, Mr. R, helps her out with his leaf blower, but I have all I can manage to just deal with the leaves that fall on our lawn.
On Saturday we were raking those leaves that so bother the Widow Douglas, so that we could get them taken care of before the 5 days of rain that Hurricane Sandy was forecasted to bring us. My husband’s foot got stuck in a hole in the lawn, and he lost his balance and fell. It knocked his breath away, and he could hardly talk. I said, “I’m calling an ambulance.” He lay on his back and gasped, “Keep…. on…. raking….” I knew what not to do, which was rake leaves. I just stayed with him, talking to him, not knowing what else to do. I was thinking that if he lost consciousness, that would be bad. And if he couldn’t get up, that would be bad.
Mr. R was working in his yard, saw what happened, and came over. He is a retired school teacher and basketball coach, so he must have experience dealing with sudden injuries like this. My husband managed to say, “My leg hurts, and I heard something snap when I fell.” At the neighbor’s direction, my husband squinched his foot this way and that way, which was promising. Eventually he got up and, leaning heavily on the neighbor and me, made his way inside. The neighbor gave us the basic first aid instructions (elevate the leg, ice 20 minutes on, 20 minutes off, don’t put the ice directly on the skin). While we were inside, he blew the rest of our leaves to the top of the hill. Heart of gold! Thanks, Mr. R.
Now, if you have health insurance, and you fall down, hear something snap, and it hurts like the dickens, you would probably want to get an x-ray, even though it is Saturday. You would at least call your doctor for advice that same day. Not my husband, because he is related to his mother.
On Sunday I get a text message while I am at church:
Son is taking me to temple and then to ER see u there
Yep, those are the right priorities – first go to the synagogue to do paperwork, then go to the emergency room.
I was grateful at that moment that our Son is a good driver, and that I could count on him to stay with his Dad at the E.R.
X ray results: the ankle is okay, but he has a fractured fibula. Dr Bone said that if you have to break a leg bone, the fibula is the least annoying bone to break. My husband now has a new mode of transportation: The Boot and The Crutches for at least the next two weeks. He will tell you, “It’s just a scratch,” but it really is actually a broken bone.
So be careful out there in your yards, people. And let me know if you think “Fractured Fibula” could be a good name for a rock band.
|The leafscape looking toward the Widow Douglas' house.|
|Leaves at top of hill, and the arrival of Rainfest Sandy.|
|New transportation method for the Common Household Husband.|