Thursday, April 21, 2011

Curiouser and Curiouser

There were times yesterday in the Emergency Room at Fletcher Allen when Catrina, Chico and I joked about the blog post I would write.  Somehow that blog post escapes me now.  Maybe the story, incredible as it sounded yesterday, has become stale to me over the ensuing 36 hours.  I mean, it gets a lot of telling. It is hard to look someone in the eye when you have a split lip (it's only a split lip) without giving an explanation.  Oh yeah, now I remember.  The plastic surgeon and my posse were joking about how I should tell a different story every time someone asked me what happened.  I shy away from the idea of getting caught up in lies.

So here's the scoop.  Around 5:30 AM I woke up with a leg cramp, hopped out of bed to ease it and then trundled through the house to the bathroom.  Pausing at my desk-I think was planning to drink some water- when  my knees gave out and I smacked my face on the back of the chair.  It made a lot of noise.  Chico arrived (seemed like hours later) to find me crouched on the floor near my desk.

He laid me out on the floor and then, shocked by what he saw he escorted me into the bathroom where I fainted again.  I don't remember this part.  I do remember being on the floor in the bathroom feeling really sweaty, looking up into Chico's worried face, hearing thunderr and seeing flashes of lightning outside.  He was rushing all around-up and down the stairs-ice, wash cloths, ice packs, the phone- the works.   And moving around, particularly from the standing position to the floor, is not that easy for him.

The upshot is neither of us could drive, the doctor on call told us after Chico's description of the lip (torn to the margin and through the muscle) that we should go to the hospital where there would be access to a plastic surgeon and it sounded like I needed one.  We called our friend Catrina.  She and Rob came right over. 

Catrina and Chico liked trying to make me laugh.   I was concerned about scarring. 
Laughing remains a little tricky. 

We were home by noon.  Very nice and competent people there at Fletcher Allen.  As you can imagine, I was really thinking of Chico in Albany.  Unlike him I wanted to resist every poke, prod or needle. 

I know, it's kind of gross.  On the one hand, I feel so lucky that it isn't worse-black eye, broken nose...I could have fallen down the stairs outside the bathroom-the possibilties are endless I now know. On the other hand I was walking to the bathroom in my own house and I end up looking like this?!  Crazy. 

Now I'm on soft foods for a week.  So far even a straw is challenging.  I wonder what will happen next. 


  1. Oy. That's all you get.

  2. Geeshhhhhh.......... You look great even with the stitch! Are you tan?? Sharon

  3. Yup, that sounds like the true story. I still think a little something about thwarting a bank robbery would have added some color, though! You are a trooper, my dear!

  4. okay....just because you have a blog doesn't mean you have to go and injure yourself for good stories! ;)