So, although I was still on a walker, I was home already, going up and down stairs and going to work. That was then.
We went to a little restaurant with my darling grandson Seth, my darling grand-daughter-in-law Kate and adorable baby Moses, eight months old. I had been wanting to share BBQ ribs with somebody. Seth said, “Ribs for me, too.” We peeled the meat off of one rib and stuck it in Moses’ hand. He popped it in his mouth. Ecstasy. Bliss. He knew it was better than squash. We had a good time.
Leaving, at the door my walker was unbalanced. I started to tip to the right in slow motion, calling “Arthur,” but I hit the floor on my right side. Splat. Lying there I knew I was in trouble. “Don’t touch me,” I said. I heard throughout the room, “Call 911.”
Paramedics took me to the hospital, which led to hip surgery on my right hip (broken in three places) and right elbow surgery a few days after that. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
After eight days in the hospital, I’m now in a rehab facility. I’m back to square one.
NOTE: I dictated this to Bonnie, because I am unable to write.