Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Legends of the Fall - Part 2

As we left things with yesterday's post,  I've taken a nasty fall and lying in a parking lot with a body that is in a lot of pain. My lefty arm is useless and my right arm is only slightly less useless.  

Don't worry too much about me because help is on that way, right? There's that guy who drove by and yelled that he was "going to call 911, dude!", then drove off.  But as I lay there, bits and pieces of me sparking between pain and numbness, looking up into a featureless night sky, minutes falling into more minutes, I realized I needed to take my own salvation in hand, even as I lacked a fully functioning hand. 

I willed my right arm to move to my right leg, positioning my fingertips just at the bottom of my jeans pocket. I could feel the outline of my cellphone pressed against the denim. It took some considerable effort to flex my fingers as I worked to push the cell phone through my jeans get it out of my pocket.  
This is rather difficult to do. 

It's also the easy part of this.  

Once I successfully pushed the phone from out of my pocket, I had to work the phone itself. I moved my arm slowly (and let me reiterate here, very painfully) to bring my fingers into contact with the phone itself. Problem was I lacked the strength in my fingers to tap the surface sufficiently hard enough to activate the emergency call icon. Also lacking the motor control to actually hit the icon. 

Eventually I was able to get the icon open and call through to 911. Except I wouldn't be able to hear whoever answer; so I sent a finger to work flailing at the speaker button.  

Which is located next to the "end call" button. Which is the button I was able to successfully tap just as 911 answered. 

Well...   fuck. 

Thankfully, the 911 operator called me back. And this time I was able to correctly tap the speaker phone icon. And a lovely voice of a friendly woman spoke to me and I explained my predicament.  

The 911 operator assured me help was on the way. And then she asked, "Are you all right now?"  It seemed an odd question as I remained splayed out in a rest area parking lot with bits and pieces of me taking turns passing out and screaming in pain.  Am I all right... now?   

I carefully considered my response as I slowly replied, "Well, I'm still here. And everything still, you know... hurts."   

"I mean you don't feel you are in any immediate danger. Help will be there in a matter of minutes. But I can stay on the line if you want."  

If I want? I've done something incredibly stupid and clumsy while I still have no clear idea of the exact damage done, lying in a parking lot staring up into the night sky with not even a single star to hang a hope upon.   

Not too mention that a few miles away, my mother was slowly dying?

If I want?  

But I imagined this poor 911 operator, underpaid and working in an understaffed call center, red lights blinking away as other people in more desperate straits than I needed help.  

"Yeah," I answered, "I'm all right now."    

And once more I was alone and Part 2 ends where Part 1 ended, with laying in parking lot in excruciating pain. 

Part 3 finally gets me out of the damn parking lot and into a hospital where I receive a most unexpected diagnosis. 

All Things Must Pass

Hi there. Today is post # 1,600 to I'm So Glad My Suffering Amuses You. I'm not sure I should count all of them since some were ...