The hits keep on comin'
Apparently this month it's not so good to be related to me.
Monday evening I got a call from Meemaw who announced herself in that special tone of voice. She was in the ER with Poppop. While taking the trash down to the curb that night, he slipped on an icy patch and fell. He broke his leg so majorly that he required surgery to set it right again, with new rods in both his tibia and fibia. That was pretty bad, but perhaps worse was that my mom was at work at the time, so for 20 minutes Poppop lay outside on the icy concrete, in the cold and in morphine-deserving pain, screaming for help from his snooty Carmelite neighbors tucked away in their cute little houses. He was eventually carted away in an ambulance.
At almost the same time two states away, Grandma Ross took Grandpa Ross to the ER. While we were in Missouri, Grandma had told me of Grandpa's crazy and unrelenting shoulder pain, and that the doctors kept blowing them off about it. When it got bad enough to suggest an ER trip, the required further investigation revealed that Grandpa has at least one blocked artery. He's going through a stress test to reveal the extent of the problem or damage, and will probably need surgery to place a stint in an affected vessel.
A few days later now, Poppop's leg situation is better. Bionic Poppop can take some steps on his own with a boot on, and his leg is healing nicely. But now his throat is clogged up so much that he's having breathing trouble because his uvula has swollen up with some sort of infection that hopefully is not due to a hospital-acquired superbug.
I'm just glad in all this that we're going back to Indiana on Sunday, having aborted our original plan of staying home for Christmas even before all this happened. But it makes me wonder, seriously, why is it that we live nearly 700 miles away?
Monday evening I got a call from Meemaw who announced herself in that special tone of voice. She was in the ER with Poppop. While taking the trash down to the curb that night, he slipped on an icy patch and fell. He broke his leg so majorly that he required surgery to set it right again, with new rods in both his tibia and fibia. That was pretty bad, but perhaps worse was that my mom was at work at the time, so for 20 minutes Poppop lay outside on the icy concrete, in the cold and in morphine-deserving pain, screaming for help from his snooty Carmelite neighbors tucked away in their cute little houses. He was eventually carted away in an ambulance.
At almost the same time two states away, Grandma Ross took Grandpa Ross to the ER. While we were in Missouri, Grandma had told me of Grandpa's crazy and unrelenting shoulder pain, and that the doctors kept blowing them off about it. When it got bad enough to suggest an ER trip, the required further investigation revealed that Grandpa has at least one blocked artery. He's going through a stress test to reveal the extent of the problem or damage, and will probably need surgery to place a stint in an affected vessel.
A few days later now, Poppop's leg situation is better. Bionic Poppop can take some steps on his own with a boot on, and his leg is healing nicely. But now his throat is clogged up so much that he's having breathing trouble because his uvula has swollen up with some sort of infection that hopefully is not due to a hospital-acquired superbug.
I'm just glad in all this that we're going back to Indiana on Sunday, having aborted our original plan of staying home for Christmas even before all this happened. But it makes me wonder, seriously, why is it that we live nearly 700 miles away?
2 Comments:
I don't know what to say except I feel for you and I hope things (and people) get better soon. God Bless.
Dropping a quick line to say I hope everything is ok and that 2008 is better than 2007 ended for your family!
~Lynn
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