So what to do now? I had six kids under my care, tomorrows dinner cooking on the back of the stove, laundry under way, tonight's dinner by the Q and I was lying in a busted heap in the back yard. And now I was really having a time with clear thought. But I somehow knew that I didn't want to have the kids make that emergency phone call. I guess I was trying not to have to tell them just how bad this might be. But who was I kidding. Bubba had it all sized up in seconds. Just the same, I preferred that the kids go and get the next door neighbour, we'll call her Rescue One, whom I knew was home at the time, to take charge of the situation. I sent the pack of 'em off on that mission.
Five very tough minutes ticked by. The feet were beginning to take on the appearance of Smurf boots. The swelling had grotesquely attacked the left. The right only slightly better and all the vivid colour was settling in nicely. The kids return shortly with Rescue One or RO for short. No need to 'splain anything to her. She had seen the leap from her kitchen window. What she didn't see was the landing. Always the tricky part in falls like this. It ain't the fall that's the problem. It's the sudden stop at the end that'll git ya every time. The fence had blocked her vision from viewing the big finish. She didn't know what the Hell I was doing, but it didn't seem to her that I was in need, as she watched it unfold. She did tell me later, for what it was worth, the leap was somewhat cat like in it's execution. I really didn't want to land on my back or worse my head and I was falling backwards from the house. I jumped and turned in the air to face forward with feet right side down and, more importantly, smiley side up. Unquestionably, the ability to make that turn saved my life. Sacrificed two feet but, without a doubt, saved my life.
I explained to RO that the hospital would be a good call. We (I) decided that it was worth the attempt to try and get to the house. So with me propped on RO, I began to try to stand. I got as far as my knees with my good foot, the right, planted firmly on the ground ready to execute. Another bad call. I stood. Got most of my weight on my right and put the left down. Unbearable. That was not going to happen. I was back in a heap within seconds. We decide that RO would take all the kids back to her place, make the 911 call and try to contact Angel at the club to let her know just what kind of interesting stuff I have going on at the house. Good thinking. Finally.
As Rescue One was herding the kids out of the yard and over to her place, a car pulls into our driveway. The Sheriff had arrived back in town. RO approaches and informs Angel that hubby was climbing up to the roof when the ladder collapsed and he was now lying, kinda broken, in the back yard. Imagine her disbelief. But Rescue One was not one to joke about such matters. Angel knew that. They quickly agreed to proceed with the plan for the kids as previously proposed. RO will do the kids, Angel will take over with the numb nut in the back yard. Angel could now be referred to as Rescue Two, although unbeknown to me at the moment, Rescue Two would have been better saddled with the moniker Terminator One.
Always calm and cool in a pressure situation, Rescue Two entered the playing field. Cautiously approaching our hero, she knelt down in front of me and very reassuringly asked how I was doing. I responded with "My feet are badly hurt". She says to look at her. By this time I was hyperventilating with the air-in / air-out thing and I was now trying to focus on staying conscious. I looked up at her and focused on her eyes. Her most beautiful eyes. She said "Hows your head? I replied "Head's fine. Didn't hit my head. My feet were the problem". She said "How's your neck"? I said "Necks ok too. The feet. Just the feet". She held up a hand and said 'How many fingers"? I say "All of them there should be!! Not my head. That's ok!! It was my feet!!!! THE FEET!!!!! I THINK I HAVE BROKEN MY FEET"!!!!!!!!! She calmly and most steadfastly continues, "Hows your back"? I was now getting a wee bit anxious and responded firmly with "Everything but my feet were absolutely ok. I have done nothing but completely mess up my feet". Angel straightened a bit, (I though she was going to stand) but instead she hauled off and punches me right square in the mouth. Not hard and not enough to distract from the pain in my feet mind you, but hard enough to split my lip. Yeowzzer!!! Now I'm bleeding from the top end too.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, climbing up on to the roof when you're supposed to be looking after the kids"??????? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?????? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? Jeezuz H, I leave you alone for a few hours and look what you're doing"!!!!!!!!
All very good, reasonable questions. I got nuthin'. 'Cept a fat bleeding lip to go with the fat bleeding feet. She puts her hand under my chin and lifts my head and looks me in the eye. I'm thinking she's lining me up to deliver an upper cut or the old, one-two. Get set. Instead she leans in and wraps her arms around me and gives me the gentlest of hugs. She quietly whispers in my ear, "Ok. I had to get that out. Everything is going to be ok and let's start the process of getting you fixed. I'm calling an ambulance. STAY STILL. DO NOT try and stand again. I'll be back in a flash.
My gal is tough as nails. That's why I love her. That's why I married her. Smart gal. What she's doing with me is anybody's guess.
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