Since moving back home so many things have happened. But until now nothing had injured me. Last Friday night was a night like any other I thought. the kids had both thankfully fallen asleep and I was almost there myself. Then I heard the familiar tapping of Dad's walker. He informed me whenI asked that new as going downstairs for coffee. There was no coffee so I assumed he would sit on his chair and either fall asleep or watch tv. That is what usually happens when he wanders downstairs at night.
Time passed and I fell asleep, then of course I heard him calling for me. It was almost midnight and the house was dark. I had no idea where he was. It turns out that I wasn't the only one. He was downstairs and told me that he was lost. So I thought he was I. The middle of a room and just wasn't sure where his chair or the stairs where.
Instead I turn on the light and he is sitting on a stack of two boxes. The Christmas tree box and the plastic ornament bin. He won't let me up decorate the tree untill Mom is home. So those darn boxes keep getting in the way. Never like this though. He is sitting there on top of the boxes like a king on a throne. Bonus, his walker is not within his arm reach. How on earth I think!
My first impulse was to call my brother, but it was almost midnight so sadly I didn't do that. Instead I tried to help my father up. I had been a caretaker fom one of my aunts many years ago and she would often fall to the floor. I never had trouble picking her up. Of course I was twenty years younger, and she was a bit lighter than my father. Still I hugged him under his arms and told him to hold onto me. We tried to stand together but we couldn't coordinate our efforts.
So I take a deep breath and move his walker to him and tell him that he needs to stand up. I was amazed that those boxes where holding him up and knew that soon they would give up. He pushed his walker away. I guess he didn't want stability that night. Instead he pushed up with both hands on the plastic bin and the bin surrendered. Down he fell! The box collapsed the plastic bin imploded and my father went down, CRASH!
Okay plan one didn't work, plan two was a disaster, what would plan three be? I know now that he is effectively on the floor I will not be able to pick him up alone. Together I think we can do it, but teamwork is hard when one member has no idea what the other one will do. First I needed to get him out of the boxes. At the time it wasn't funny, but looking back now the image of my father with his bottom stuck in the red and green ornament bit is priceless. No, I did not stop to take any photos.
He managed to crawl out of the boxes and wiggle over to his chair. It took some time but he did it. With the chair behind and under me for support and Dad leaning up against my knees I believed we would have the leverage to get him up. Again I grabbed under his arms and the two of us tried to stand up together. It was working. I had him up on his feet! All I needed to do was step to the left and let him sit on his chair. That is not what happened!
Instead his legs and body decided together that he wanted to sit down NOW. So down he went with me under him. Now if you thought the mental image of my Dad sittin in a collapsed bin was funny imagine him sitting on my lap on a recliner. Never in my life did I think my father would be sitting on my lap. Still he was off the floor and we both were okay. Too bad that didn't last.
I needed to get out from under him so he slid to the right and I slid to left and moved my left leg over the arm rest. POP! My hip made the most horrible sound I have ever heard. Worse, I felt the pop in my hip. I felt parts of my hip that I never felt before and it was not a pleasant feeling. Breathe! I was still half under my father and had to keep going. Plop! He was in his chair and I was standing ( on my right leg) next to the chair. I knew I had hurt my hip, but not badly.
Tentatively I put weight on my left leg and it hurt but I could do it. I walked to the couch and collapsed onto it. I was shaking and in pain. He however was up and ready to go back upstairs. So up be went on his chair lift and I so ehow managed to follow him up all those stairs. Every step was horrible but I kept going.
I got him into his room and into his bed. I even got him some acetaminophen because his back hurt a little. Why did I put the acetaminiphen so far away from his bed. And why did I have to go on my comply bed to get at it. I resisted the temptation to stay there and pass out and brought him the pills.
Then back to my bed where I literally fell onto my memory foam mattress of comfort. I was shaking and in pain and realized I had brought my self upstairs away from the car and the ER. Though I didn't want to go to the E r. I was not happy with how they took care of my mother. Maybe Urgent Care, I had no idea where they were. The pediatric one I could get to blindfolded though.
So now of course I call my poor brother. If I went to the ER he would have to come to my house to stay with the kids and Dad. I woke him up and he tells me I was babbling. Finally he calmed me down enough to call my doctor. So I hung up on him and called my doctor and left a message. Should I take the acetaminophen? I decided to wait for the doctor to call me back and I just laid there with the phone in my hand. Soon the phone rang and my doctor was calling me back.
After I explained the whole thing he said that because I could bear weight on it it most likely wasn't broken or dislocated. If it still bothered me on Monday to give him a call and maybe I would need a MRI. Friday at midnight I settled down with some Tylenol and my anxiety meds hoping for some sleep. Dad however felt like exploring the house that night and I had to stumble out of my room on more than one occasion.
Saturday my brother helped out thankfully and on Sunday he even took Dad to see Mom so I could rest. Monday I still had a lot of pain and Dad insisted I call my doctor, he had. 2:30 opening. So I hobbled through the day. Luckily I lived in a house with extra canes and walkers literally just lying around. Also at my disposal was a chair lift to get me up and down the stairs and a walkin bathtub/ jacuzzi.
At the appointment my doctor pinpointed my injury and told me that I had a sprained hip. Nothing horrible but it would take some time to heal. Specifically he suspected that I sprained my gluteus minimus. I guess I never thought about it but if we have a gluteus maximus we must have a gluteus minimus. I'm just glad there is something minimus about me. Although I wouldn't mind it if it would hurt less.
No comments:
Post a Comment