Friday night we went to sleep, and we had a plan. We stocked up the office with breakfast goodies for Tori, and when she came in for her morning cuddles we asked her to let us sleep a bit while she played some games. It was only a few minutes later when she came running back into our room, saying “Grandma fell! Grandma fell!”
Sure enough, we got downstairs to find my mom on the floor, with a fairly large cut on her hand. She had a couple of bumps and bruises, but after taking some advil and lying down for a while (and after I wrapped her hand; it was a pretty big cut but she didn’t want to seek medical attention), she felt a bit sore but okay Saturday night. So okay, in fact, that she cheerfully sent Charlie and I out to the movies (we saw Cloud Atlas, which was amazing) although she was in bed when we got home from our post-movie Hurricane Sandy run to Walmart.
My phone rang at 7am this morning, and it was my mom calling from the basement. “I fell again,” she said, mumbling. “I’m really hurt this time.”
She was right.
She’d tripped going into the bathroom (which, alas, has a half-step up into it because… well, because we had to build the bathroom fast and cheap and the contractor cut corners, and we didn’t know what we were doing). She’d hit her face, her knees, and her arm as she fell. Her face was the worst; she had a huge laceration between her nose and her lips, she’d bitten through her lips and somehow even managed to split the tip of her nose.
We called an ambulance.
She was admitted, finally, around 3:30 because she’s been having falling spells now since early spring, when she fell at the gym with me. About a month ago she had some episodes with memory loss and word slurring, and after I pushed on her hard, she went to see the neurologist and they changed up some medications, and she got better.
Until this morning.
It doesn’t help that we have this massive freak storm (Hurricane Sandy or #FRANKENSTORM) barreling down on us full force; we’re worried about getting flooding in the basement again (we’ve done some work to prevent that, but 8 inches of rain in a day would challenge the best sealing). We’re prepared to lose power (highly likely, since we lose power in regular rainstorms here); and while we’ve done as much prep work as we can, the thought of my mom being wobbly while we also coped with the dark was terrifying.
Call me an asshole, but when they said they were going to keep her overnight, I felt such relief.
I came home, I ate something (remind me to tell you an amusing story about me being hungry and the gift shop refusing to take either a debit card or a twenty dollar bill, and me almost losing my temper in a I’m-stressed-and-hungry kind of way), and I cuddled with Tori. At the hospital I held my mom’s hand as they stitched up her face (and teased her a bit for looking like a Romulan from Star Trek), so when Tori cuddled up and slipped her hand in mine it felt right.
Now, we cope with the storm outside and fight to get my mom’s issues resolved.
It’s going to be a long week.