My mother ("Mimi" to her grandkids and great-grandkids) had an unfortunate accident last Wednesday. She fell at home and broke her right hip.
It just so turns out that my husband and I were at home in NH (back from VA for a week-and-a half or so to take care of some important things), getting ready to pack the car for a drive north to Plattsburgh, NY, when we got the news. My husband was planning to deal with plumbing issues at his family's home on the lake, the result of a furnace malfunction that led to burst pipes and caused flooding in the basement. And while we were there, I was looking forward to visiting with my folks, maybe bringing them out some home-cooked meals...
Well, one of my younger sisters called Wednesday morning, and I immediately thought something was wrong. It isn't like her to call on a weekday morning for no reason. Everything was fine, she assured me. She was just calling to apologize because she'd made Mom and Dad some potato and leek soup, and she'd only made enough for two, unaware that we were due to arrive that evening. I assured her that we had been planning to get our own dinner and proceeded to get back to my packing. Then less than a half-hour later, she called again. "Wow, two calls in one day. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I joked. "Well..." she said. "You were worried the first time, and it was nothing. But now there IS an emergency." She had just gotten a call from my dad, who had frantically called 9-1-1 and was waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
Long story short: my husband and I left earlier than we'd planned to and got there in time to visit with Mimi on Wednesday in the ER, and we saw her safely moved to a room upstairs. While my husband dealt with the plumber on Thursday, I was able to be there at the hospital while she was in surgery and stayed for a few hours after she got out of recovery. Then I was able to spend most of Friday and Saturday with her in her room, accompanied by one or the other of my two sisters (who shall heretofore be known as "Saint R" and "Saint B").
My mom has always been a whirlwind of energy--the "Energizer Bunny" was what we all called her. She's feisty and has a great sense of humor. Case in point: here she is in the ER the day of her injury, while waiting to be transferred upstairs--and just look at that smile!
My sister (Saint B) got Mom to wake up enough to finish a whole milkshake on Friday night. That was huge (and proves my theory that ice cream has magical healing powers)! And on Saturday, she began to turn a corner, spending more time sitting up in a chair than lying in bed. When my husband and I were driving back to NH on Sunday, Saint B told me that Mimi was doing, in the words of the nurses, "so much better!" She was sitting up, eating M & M's (yet another medicinal food item); and she'd walked a few steps--with help, of course.
Today, Mimi is scheduled to be transferred to a rehab center. She's got a long road ahead of her before she can move back home, so please keep her in your prayers! (My dad could use a few as well; it's going to be lonely for him while she's away.)
Now it's back to VA for Papa and me, where our little G-Man is waiting for us. I feel kind of guilty that I'm not there for Mom, and dearly wish that I could be two places at once--in VA taking care of G-Man, and in NY helping to take care of Mimi. I thank God every day that my sainted sisters both live close to our parents (Saint R lives literally around the corner from them). When things like this happen, it only reminds me of how blessed our family really is.