![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm not sure how much time I have, so I'll reserve the right to fill in the blanks later.
Previously I thought of various horrible ways to wake up, but I found a new one that currently tops the list.
Tuesday, I was running late in going to bed, but figured it'd be okay as Wednesday I could sleep a little longer, and besides, I hadn't woken up until around 4am anyway, so I'd deal. I tossed and turned a bit and then I heard Mumsy's door open. I heard the dogs running around and then a thump. Which is hardly unusual as the dogs are insane and believe nothing says I love you like violence. I hear Mom shriek, which is also not unusual. See puppy violence. And then she shrieks again. So I fall out of bed, vault over the crap between my bed and the door, and hit the hall just in time to hear her scream again. I manage to avoid falling down the stairs and see Mumsy sitting on the floor in front of her room. Only one leg is propped out in front of her, foot bent at a funny sort of angle, the other leg kinda squashed behind a pillow, ice littering the floor, and the dogs are being a little too cautious. Mumsy shrieks about the foot not propped and I attempt to help her move said foot and she screams bloody blue murder. Which was more than a little disconcerting because, hullo, you told me to move that foot, kay? Shrieking is not making me any more capable.
So... the way I see it, I can just call 911, or I call Dad or my brother. I ask Mumsy who doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of an ambulance ride. Can't say I blame her. So I call Dad, tell him what little I know, and he says he'll be home ASAP. I scuttle around trying to do... lord knows what, and when he does get home, he calls 911. :P They arrive, Mumsy is carted away, and I call work, informing them that I shall not be joining them that evening. Funny how the phrase, "I'm on the way to the hospital!" does not prevent anyone from putting you on hold.
Mumsy spent the next forever in the ER. Dad and I left after they'd splinted her leg for the second time [to the shock of whichever nurse assisted, as she kept going on and on about it never having happened before. Great, I'm sure Mums was glad to be the first person to have that particular pain inflicted twice] and had her on lord knows what painkillers. Also, it was midnight and we'd both been up for ages. Around 3AM they moved her to "rapid admissions" which was neither rapid nor really forthcoming with the admissions, so really, not a step up. She was there from 3am until 5pm. Yush, 24 hours after she got to the hospital, she was finally given a room. Where they promptly forgot about her for an hour. They'd only recently found her when Dad and I appeared with books, cards, and, y'know, us. Naturally this was the time to dope her up so that she was talking gibberish. We left after a couple of hours of this and headed home. Once we left, my brother appeared, as did the doctor my father kept inquiring about. Said Doctor scared the crap out of Mumsy by leading with the whole, "Since you're diabetic and this is a foot injury, we might have to amputate." Frankly, I'm surprised Sean didn't sucker punch him for that. You don't ignore someone for more than a day and then scare the hell out of them... unless you want your kneecaps busted, which I might've been tempted to do.
Anyway... we went back to see her yesterday and heard about this, although I do think my brother tried to tell me about it a few hours after it happened. I just happened to be so out of it that I thought I'd dreamed the whole thing until I checked the laundry. :P And after telling us of her woes, they gave her morphine and that was the end of lucid Mumsy. I went home and slept as I decided to go to work last night, but Dad went back and actually got to speak with Lucid Mumsy.
I miss my mommy. ;_;
Previously I thought of various horrible ways to wake up, but I found a new one that currently tops the list.
Tuesday, I was running late in going to bed, but figured it'd be okay as Wednesday I could sleep a little longer, and besides, I hadn't woken up until around 4am anyway, so I'd deal. I tossed and turned a bit and then I heard Mumsy's door open. I heard the dogs running around and then a thump. Which is hardly unusual as the dogs are insane and believe nothing says I love you like violence. I hear Mom shriek, which is also not unusual. See puppy violence. And then she shrieks again. So I fall out of bed, vault over the crap between my bed and the door, and hit the hall just in time to hear her scream again. I manage to avoid falling down the stairs and see Mumsy sitting on the floor in front of her room. Only one leg is propped out in front of her, foot bent at a funny sort of angle, the other leg kinda squashed behind a pillow, ice littering the floor, and the dogs are being a little too cautious. Mumsy shrieks about the foot not propped and I attempt to help her move said foot and she screams bloody blue murder. Which was more than a little disconcerting because, hullo, you told me to move that foot, kay? Shrieking is not making me any more capable.
So... the way I see it, I can just call 911, or I call Dad or my brother. I ask Mumsy who doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of an ambulance ride. Can't say I blame her. So I call Dad, tell him what little I know, and he says he'll be home ASAP. I scuttle around trying to do... lord knows what, and when he does get home, he calls 911. :P They arrive, Mumsy is carted away, and I call work, informing them that I shall not be joining them that evening. Funny how the phrase, "I'm on the way to the hospital!" does not prevent anyone from putting you on hold.
Mumsy spent the next forever in the ER. Dad and I left after they'd splinted her leg for the second time [to the shock of whichever nurse assisted, as she kept going on and on about it never having happened before. Great, I'm sure Mums was glad to be the first person to have that particular pain inflicted twice] and had her on lord knows what painkillers. Also, it was midnight and we'd both been up for ages. Around 3AM they moved her to "rapid admissions" which was neither rapid nor really forthcoming with the admissions, so really, not a step up. She was there from 3am until 5pm. Yush, 24 hours after she got to the hospital, she was finally given a room. Where they promptly forgot about her for an hour. They'd only recently found her when Dad and I appeared with books, cards, and, y'know, us. Naturally this was the time to dope her up so that she was talking gibberish. We left after a couple of hours of this and headed home. Once we left, my brother appeared, as did the doctor my father kept inquiring about. Said Doctor scared the crap out of Mumsy by leading with the whole, "Since you're diabetic and this is a foot injury, we might have to amputate." Frankly, I'm surprised Sean didn't sucker punch him for that. You don't ignore someone for more than a day and then scare the hell out of them... unless you want your kneecaps busted, which I might've been tempted to do.
Anyway... we went back to see her yesterday and heard about this, although I do think my brother tried to tell me about it a few hours after it happened. I just happened to be so out of it that I thought I'd dreamed the whole thing until I checked the laundry. :P And after telling us of her woes, they gave her morphine and that was the end of lucid Mumsy. I went home and slept as I decided to go to work last night, but Dad went back and actually got to speak with Lucid Mumsy.
I miss my mommy. ;_;
