Back to the events on Saturday…
Peanut was invited to a birthday party at a skating rink. He had never been ice skating before and was excited to try. “Mommy, ice skating is my favorite!” And even more excited to see BF’s daughter, the birthday girl, whom he plans to marry once they’re both grownups.
We had all planned to go, but Bean was diagnosed with an ear infection on Friday. (Even though the drive to our daycare’s new location sucks, their excellent staff makes up for it. Bean’s caregiver noticed him yanking on the infected ear and called Hubby with an FYI. She was spot on.) Hubby and Bean stayed home while Peanut and I drove out to the rink. We hung out with the party crowd, ate some pizza, and headed for the ice. BF’s husband took Peanut around the rink along with a couple of the other kids. I teetered along, dodging the other skaters. I took a couple pictures of Peanut on the ice with my camera phone and hung out with BF and her daughter in the middle kiddie area.
I headed back out for another lap or two when I lost my balance. “Oh shit, I’m gonna fall. I bet it’s gonna hurt.”
I open my eyes and realize a paramedic is leaning over me asking questions. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Sometime in January?”
“Do you know who is president?”
I think we recently had elections and someone new was elected. Have they been inaugurated yet? “I’m not sure.”
I hear discussion on my confused-ish state.
I’m cold and start shivering.
BF is there, too. I ask where Peanut is, if he’s OK, is he scared? Her husband hustled him off the ice and back to the party area when they realized I was hurt. He doesn’t know. Thank goodness. BF has already called Hubby who is on his way.
They put a c-collar on, load me onto a backboard and take me off the ice. I hear applause as we leave. Embarrassing.
So, I had my first, and hopefully last, ambulance ride. A CAT-scan showed no internal bleeding or breaks – they feared I fractured the orbit to my right eye. A few hours and four stitches later and I was good to go. I thought for sure the Lidocaine would hurt like a mofo, but it wasn’t bad at all. The Rocephin shot I got for mastitis was a helluva lot worse. Hubby and I talked and joked with the doc (resident? intern? He seemed young) who stitched me. I could feel his hands shaking while he worked. Hubby took several pictures of my lovely boo-boos.
I had mild headaches for a couple days. I still get dizzy every now and then, which is likely from the antibiotic. I’m sporting lovely pinks, purples, greens, and yellows on about half of my face. On Friday I went to Urgent Care to have the stitches taken out. My primary care doc won’t touch the stitches since they were done by a doctor outside of the clinic. Ummm….yeah, I had to go to the ER to make sure I didn’t have a serious closed head wound.
Apparently, BF didn’t see me fall, but came over just after it happened. She made some jokes then realized it was bad when she saw blood. She and a rink employee stayed with me while they cleared the ice and called an ambulance. I have no recollection of any of that although I had my eyes open and was somewhat responsive.
Poor BF feels bad about the whole thing. It’s not her fault I’m a klutz who can’t skate. I feel terrible that I scared her and the kids at their birthday party. I’m so thankful that she and her husband were there to take care of Peanut and Bean while Hubby was with me at the hospital. Peanut enjoyed his extra time with their daughter and didn’t want to leave their house. BF’s hubby pulled a baby swing and bouncy seat out of storage for Bean. Both boys had a great time.
Hubby, true to his self, had to make a few smart-assed remarks. “Don’t think a concussion and some stitches is getting you out of making dinner.”
“When other people ask what happened, tell them ‘You should see the other guy!’”
One week later: