Gwen and Andy (the olds) were back from a week’s hols in Spain today and I was excited to see my wee Mummy cos everyone who knows me knows she’s my bessie pal. So, I’m sitting in the house and the phone rings. I know it must be them so I answer with my cheeriest “hello!” to which Gwen responds with a stressful voice ” Can you make me a cup of tea?” I don’t even get to say yes when she starts crying! Then, through her tears, she manages to tell me that she tripped over a flagstone as they were leaving the International Airport and she thought she might have broken her arm!!!
I rushed into the car and whizzed round there and, sure enough, her forearm was all swollen and strangely shaped (pictures to follow for the non-squeamish). So, I bundled her into the car and off we went to Casualty. As soon as the admissions girl saw her a nurse practitioner came around and got her into a bed and then they brought her for an x-ray. Well, believe it or not, in spite of the pain and terrible shape, the bones in her forearm are NOT broken and instead they think she may have nicked a blood vessel when she fell which has caused terrible internal bleeding and swelling. So, she has been given a half plaster cast(?) which means that the bruised area is protected by the plaster of paris while the underside of her arm is in bandage in case the arm needs to swell further. She has to keep the arm in a sling and in this plaster for the rest of the week and then, after that, they will have a look at how everything is healing…
As for Andy, well, he didn’t want to go to the hospital and said he would stay home and light the fire instead (and in spite of it being 17 degrees and sunny). When I got Mum home, Andy and I went out to grab a few groceries for them and I asked him about it. Mum had told me that he was in front of her so hadn’t actually seen her fall and he said ” Yes, I didn’t know anything had happened until I heard a thud and then her screaming”. I really think the whole incident has traumatised him too and he is just lost about what to do to help. Apparently, the first aider they got at the airport had suggested going to A+E then but Mum wouldn’t hear tell of it. It’s the usual thing that happens – you are just so embarassed you don’t even feel the pain.
So, if you’re reading this blog, please spare a thought for my parents who are both in their late 60s (although they don’t like people knowing that!) and who had a lovely holiday followed by an awful homecoming!