The Great Fall of 2014 (Socks + Stairs)
As I write, I am icing my butt.
I am also feeling very grateful that I’m even able to write and to ice my butt.
Here’s the story:
While watching TinTin from the couch last night, my 16 month old son, Elliot, fell asleep between me and his auntie, Christina. I gently lifted him into my arms and started down the basement stairs to our bedroom, where I intended to lay him down. I made it only a few steps down before one of my sock-feet slipped on a stair and sent me tumbling down about five more. Desperately clutching Elliot, I bounced on my back and came to a halt midway down the flight of stairs. The pain was overwhelming and I heard Elliot shrieking in terror. Christina came running and I felt her take Elliot from me. My head was spinning. “He’s…ok. …Not hurt…”
And I passed out.
Christina was a superwoman. She carried both of us down to the basement floor, laid me down, and ran upstairs to call 911. I woke a minute or two later to the sound of her near-hysterical voice. Everything was fuzzy and dreamlike. It was difficult to wake up.
The paramedics arrived shortly and took me to the hospital down the road. I was shaking violently with cold.
It was the quickest ER visit of my life. We were in and out in less than 2 hours. A nurse shot pain meds into my hip, the CAT scans showed no evidence of broken bones, and I was sent home with instructions to take it easy and fill a prescription for Vicodin. I walked out of the hospital on my own two (still sock-footed) feet.
I’m still quite sore, but much improved. It was a tiring and scary night for our family. It was sobering to realize how much worse the injuries could have been, and how terrible it would have been if Christina had not been home. We are very thankful.
Pray for a speedy recovery if you think of it, please! I need to get back to holding my baby (very carefully of course)! 🙂