7:38 p.m.
I forgot to show you the new driver of the famous car!
How cool is this?!
_______________________________________________________________________________I started the month by flying DIA to RS again. But first, I used the Light Rail to get to the airport. That's the first time I've done it, and it's really fabulous. Yeah, there are a couple of transfers, but nothing huge, and the wait time is perfectly acceptable. Comfortable ride, too.
Plus, I met someone who told me a great story. I meet people all the time who want to tell me things, and I think it's pretty cool. I already wrote the story, so if you haven't already read it, you can find it here:
Refusing to Call Polka Dots Stripes
I'd write it again, but...I wrote it already! I hope you'll take a minute and check it out. It made my day.
I got to go back to the regular concourse, so that was good; I knew where I was going. The flight was smooth, we weren't late taking off, and all was well.
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June weather was weird--seemed more like April, chilly and rainy and there was even some snow. Nuts.
Things were going along fine, and then one day, Dad opened the door, Molly escaped, he chased after her, and boom!
So, Mom has taken some falls in the past year--she's even had a couple of shiners. But Dad made all Mom's falls put together look like pin-pricks.
He'll probably not appreciate me sharing the story, and I'm not going to share the pictures, although I do have many day-by-day shots of his shiner healing up.
But here's the thing--these things happen so damn fast! Just as I was going to check on them--I heard the door open, but then didn't hear anything else, and decided I better go find them--Molly came zooming in the open door, barking and whining, and I knew something was wrong. I asked her "Where is he?" She ran in a circle like she was chasing her tail, and barked at the door. I ran out, and she ran to Mom.
I found him across the street, on his knees, clutching his face. His glasses, bent to hell, were in his hand. There was blood on the sidewalk and seeping through his fingers.
Emergency room.
Brain CT showed no brain bleed, no retinal detachment, no bones broken. Thank goodness!!! But, wow! He was one messed up man. Big cut at the brow line, cuts on the side of the eye and underneath. He looked like he'd just gone 15 rounds with Mohammad Ali--and Ali won in the first round, but Dad was too stubborn to give up!
June 12th until today, and the bruising is almost gone. The wounds, made by his glasses, couldn't be stitched, so they were glued. His glasses lens is scratched to hell, but we can't replace it until he's totally healed and gets a new eye exam. I am an Optician, though, so I saved that bent to hell frame.
June was already scheduled up with doctor appointments, and this pretty much tripled things. So, it has been busy around here! Eye doctor is local, but his other doctor is in Salt Lake, so we've made two trips there already. Another this month after we go on a little vacation.
And now, to bitch: Why are there no doctors around here, for crying out loud? Everything is a trip, three hours there, three hours back. Sometimes overnighters. It's crazy.
I know, I have lived in a big city for a couple of decades now, and I can see any type of specialist without leaving town. I'm spoiled, I guess.
Anyway, I wasn't kidding when I said I have been busy. Dressing changes and trying to keep him from taking off bandages and scratching the healing cuts was challenging.
There's nothing worse than finding your parent bleeding after a fall and feeling responsible for it because you didn't realize he'd gone chasing the dog in time to stop him. I don't want my parents to fall down! I don't want them hurt in any way!
And I don't know how to be there every second to make sure it doesn't happen.
I need a clone.
These fall-down incidents make me feel like a terrible daughter. Logically, I know I can't be everywhere at once. Still, when I go downstairs to do laundry, or just to go to bed, I am constantly listening for any strange sound.
I can get up those stairs really fast when I'm scared. People make a lot of racket doing their everyday stuff, you know? You hear a thump, a crash, whatever--do you wait for a yell? Nope! Run like hell up the stairs. Sometimes you do have to pause long enough to be clothed, but, yeah. Run.
I'm torn between do it all for them and let them do it themselves. Honestly, it undermines their independence if you don't let them do what they are capable of doing, but it is kind of hard not to just say, "Here, let me do that."
June was a learning time, I reckon. Not lessons I wanted, but whatever. I'll do better. I swear.
But for the record--June sucked.
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So, I guess I've caught you up on the craziness. Now it's July, and for the love of all that is sacred, I hope it's a better month!
Later, gators!
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