So I have missed a couple of days blogging due to tending to my dad who took a nasty fall. This is what happened: Some friends of mine were in a nearby city at a convention, so I decided to go and meet them for dinner. We connected at the hotel and were just about to get dinner when my phone rang with a number I did not recognize. I thought it best to answer. It was an EMT. He was nice and calm as he explained that he was taking care of my father. He said that had fallen, but was conscious, aware, and carrying on a conversation. He said that he was banged up, scraped his face and that his thumb was obviously broken and would likely need surgery. They were taking him to the local hospital. My dad wanted to make sure he told me not to rush back – that he was OK and being taken care of. My friends and I huddled in the hotel lobby and prayed. After a bit, my mother called to tell me that some friends were with her and would take her over to the hospital. Since it was past dinner time, they made sure she ate before they left. The friends waited there at the hospital until I came so I knew my mom was there. When I went into the hospital, I was told which room my dad was in. As I made my way, I could see the room from afar, but the person in there did not look like my dad. It was. He had on a neck brace, was covered with blood, and his hand was completely wrapped. In the emergency room, they took cat scans and x-rays of just about everything. Once they knew the results, they cleaned him all up. My mom and I were pretty happy about that. It turned out that he had a small nose fracture and his thumb had a compound fracture. All things considering, that was not bad. They kept him in the hospital overnight and did surgery on the thumb the next afternoon. This was a different hospital from the last incident and the experience was much better. My dad had a private room that was large and quiet. He came home the evening after the surgery with antibiotics and heavy pain medication. I was glad and grateful that my sister was able to come for the day.

Back at home, I spoke to some of the neighbors and got the full story as to what happened. My mom and dad both went out for a walk around the housing complex. My mom only goes a short distance, so she headed for home and my dad continued on to the mailbox. He would meet her back at the house and help her get up the steps. At the mailbox, my dad saw a neighbor and waved. Unfortunately, he did not see a cement parking block that was moved onto the sidewalk due to repaving of the road. He fell right over it. The neighbor saw the fall and said it was the worst thing she had ever seen. He landed on his hand and his face. She got some paper towels and tissues from her car and ran over to help him. She realized that would not be enough as he was bleeding profusely from his nose and thumb. She went to the closest house and the husband and wife came right out with some towels. The husband knew just what to do as he wrapped the dangling thumb with a wet cloth. One of the women called 911. My dad asked where my mom was – he knew she would be waiting for him – so one of the ladies went to house. My mom was sitting outside in her walker waiting for my dad, but knew that something had happened. The neighbor brought her to where the accident happened and the EMT’s were there working on him. Once he was stabilized and in the ambulance, my mom was able to talk with him. The neighbors and my mom headed back to the house where my mom called me. Another neighbor stayed with her and made sure she got some dinner. Another came over and took her to the hospital. Once we got home, a neighbor came over with some delicious home made chicken noodle soup. It was truly a team effort with half the housing complex involved in some way. What a blessing.

I took my dad to his regular doctor the day after he got home. The doctor – and everyone else – said it was incredible that at 85 years old my dad could take a fall like that and come out of it with minimal injuries. My dad reminded his doctor that he intends to live to 100 years old. The doctor agreed that he probably will. Evidently my dad put out his hand to catch his fall, so it took the brunt of the impact. It was his right hand, which is dominant, so he is struggling to do things left handed. I ate dinner last night left handed in solidarity with him. His hand swelled up, so we are keeping a close eye on that and his scrapes are healing up pretty nicely so far. He struggles getting a good night sleep, but is enjoying his pain medication. All in all, he is doing pretty good. My mom is exhausted from the ordeal, but doing OK too. She wrote some thank you notes to bring over to the neighbors and I made a couple of batches of cookies to add.

I Found God today in concerned and caring neighbors, family presence and prayers, knowledgeable and nurturing doctors and nurses, and mostly the miracle that my dad took such a nasty fall and was not hurt worse than he was.