Accidents Will Happen

My mom has fallen down so many times without snapping like a twig that I was beginning to think her bones were made of rubber. Emboldened by her apparent un-breakability, Super Mom has become audacious with her magical vulnerability shield; an intrepid senior warrior, fearless in the face of danger, reveling in her big, bad self. She gallivants around the house without her walker, bowing down to pick items up from the floor, and proclaiming herself capable of complete independence. Less than an hour after my mother's proclamation, she proceeded to show me her version of life without my meddling assistance. Behold my mom’s first attempt to reign over her kingdom without her lowly servant-

“I think I hurt my finger.” “Yeah, mom, I do believe that your purple, 45 degree-angled finger is definitely hurt.” “Do you think it’s broken?” “I don’t know mom, does your finger usually point sideways?”

Luckily, we had some painkillers left over from the last time she fell down, injuring her hip and shoulder, and requiring x-rays (less than a month ago), so I drugged her up and got her an emergency appointment with her doctor. Her x-ray showed…well, I’ll just show you-

Those are some fucked up rabbit ears.

My mom’s doctor and his nurse love my mom. She’s like family to them since they see her about as much as they see their actual family. The doc said to me, “I could probably pull it back into place, but it might not hold. Should I try?” Yeah, no. “I didn’t give her enough drugs so let’s not do that, and while we’re at it, she needs more drugs.”

I’m glad I said something about a prescription because we won’t be seeing the Orthopedist until Monday. Dr. Helm didn’t have a splint for mom either, but said I could probably get one at Walmart. I opened the container with tongue depressors, grabbed a couple, and told him I could MacGyver one myself.

So, here I sit after a long day of icing, arts and crafts splinting, wrapping, and drugging my mom into submission. In the midst of all this, mom declared that her shoulder hurt from holding her hand up to her chest; mind you, her arm was in a sling so she wasn't holding anything up anywhere, and she was on a steady dose of hydrocodone so I can't fathom how on this earth that's humanly possible- but also thinking, “hell yeah, I did a great job on her finger because she’s complaining about something else!” If mom can have an alternative reality, so can I.

How was your Friday the 13th?

Enjoy one of my favorite artists from back in the day, Elvis Costello, singing about accidents-