Sunday, February 7, 2010

Baby Got Back

Friday afternoon I was packing up my books to go home when the school secretary came over the intercom and informed me that my husband would be picking G up from school. This somewhat puzzled me because Friday is the day that I always pick G up since I have to transport the wheelchair in case we need it over the weekend. On this particular Friday it was drizzling rain. It had been raining off and on for a couple of days. In fact, I had driven Joey's truck to school that day because when I was backing the van out of the garage I noticed the wheelchair in the back and decided to have Joey use the van so the wheelchair wouldn't get wet (it was still in there from G's therapy appointment on Wednesday since he missed school on Thursday) on the way to school.


 

My phone had gone dead sometime during the day and my car charger was in the van which was being driven by Joey. This left me with no way to contact Joey to find out what was going on. I just assumed that my sweet
husband had not had time to switch vehicles with me during the day and was meeting me at home to pass off G. It was still slightly
raining and with me in the truck I would be required to stand in the rain to attempt to tie down the wheelchair in the bed of the truck. I have only done it once a couple of years ago and on that occasion I was halfway to my school after letting G out at his school when I looked up in the rear view mirror to discover the 20 foot, bright orange tie down strap flapping in the wind behind me as I travel down hwy. 27 at 60 MPH. So, with this fiasco in my mind I thought that Joey was just being Joey and was protecting me from any uncomfortable experience.


 

I arrive home just as the garage door is opening. Joey comes hobbling out of the garage headed toward the mailbox (he has an obsession with getting the mail). Of course he stops and helps me carry my heavy load into the house. When we get inside he begins to relay the story of why he picked up G and why he is not returning to work. While doing a framing inspection on a house he was looking up at one of the rafters which had been cut. He had already stepped across a hole where a piece of plywood had been taken up from the floor once. In the midst of looking up he misjudged the distance from the hole and took one step too many backwards. His left leg drops through the floor joist. He lands with one leg through the floor, one leg twisted up underneath him. He was only prevented from falling completely through the floor because his bootie landed on a floor joist.


 

I know I should not laugh. It really is not funny. He could have been seriously hurt. But (LOL) he keeps doing things that strike me as funny. I will be doing something and all of a sudden he will make this strange little noise. Tonight when he was getting into bed he stopped and just leaned on the bed. After a minute or so I asked why he wasn't getting in bed and he laughed and moaned, "I just have to prepare myself to get in. I am okay once I get there but the process is just painful." You know that is usually the case. The end is not nearly as bad as the process it takes to get there.


 

There are a couple of benefits to his fall.

  1. He has slowed down significantly.
  2. He will be extra careful in the near future.
  3. And last and best of all, because of the fall. . .and the swelling. . .


 

BABY GOT BACK!!!

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