August 11, 2009


Today I was reading in one of the blogs I follow that someone's father broke his hip. Or the top of the upper thigh bone. That happened to me about 6 years ago. On the day after my daughter's wedding. I had spent the day in NYC with German friends sightseeing. I probably was a bit overtired from celebrating, but we had a marvelous time. I remember thinking 'be careful, the streets are crooked, you are almost at the car'...
Then stopped worrying,we ware in the parking garage where we'd left the car in Hoboken. Wouldn't you know it, in a space where I didn't expect the road to be crocked, I stepped in the pothole, fell over and broke the very top of my left thigh bone? At the time I didn't realize I broke the bone, I had my friends pick me up and help me to the car. Went home, accepted help to the bed, spent the night sleepless, and realized at some point that I had to go to the hospital.

So waited until my visitors were awake, and asked them to drive me to the hospital. They wheeled me in (after finding a wheel chair), and I announced I had broken my leg. Yesterday. Of course no one believed me, especially after spending the night at home, but x-rays revealed, yes, I did. I sent my German visitors on their way with my car, since they only had a few days remaining to sight see.
The orthopedic surgeon arrived, and confirmed, yes, broken bone. He gave me the option to either let it heal (not so good in his opinion), or to have it operated, and insert an artificial hip. Or partial replacement. Okay, operation I said.

Back a step - my oldest daughter had just moved back to NJ. First day on the job in NYC. My son was in training somewhere. My just-married daughter off on her honeymoon. Who should I call? No numbers for working son and daughter! So I started with a friend, who was nice enough to come from work. Then my daughter-in-law - never occurred to me to ask her to call my son, my co-mother-in-law of the newlyweds.... Figured that was enough.
Well, my daughter (the one working in NYC) called me after a couple of hours - I asked how she knew, and she said, she was at lunch with a couple of people, one of them got a call and asked Erika who she knew in the My brohter, she said. And knew it was about me. Poor Erika, took the rest of the day off and came and stayed with me in the hospital.
The whole thing was quite dramatic.

No comments:

Post a Comment