A Visitor Falls

Ma modelling her splint

Time: A little after 3pm. I am slowly digesting the radiology report following my CT scan which has just been read to me over the phone. Normal. I don’t think a word has ever sounded so good to me. I still have the symptoms, but it isn’t caused by a growth lurking in my sinuses. Huge, tearful relief. 

It’s been a productive week at Hotel H, I’ve been balancing work – so tantalisingly close to the end of Book 3 – with trips out with Ma who’s been staying here. We’ve just been for lunch at a garden centre before I crack on with another 1000 words.

Ma, who’s been pottering in the garden, calls out from the back door.

‘Have you got a plaster?’

‘I’ll get you one,’ I say, getting up.

And at the back door I see what looks like the aftermath of a fight in a black pudding factory. I know a little blood goes a long way, but a lot of blood goes even further. Ma has fallen out of the greenhouse, gashing open a varicose vein on the frame and badly twisting her right thumb as she tries to save herself.

I sit her down, elevate the leg, apply pressure… and then shout for Tom.

The patient, of course, is muttering about making a mess and being a nuisance but is told pretty firmly that she is going to casualty whether she likes it or not.

Twenty-five miles later we sit in our nearest A&E while the Discovery Channel blares out over our heads. We unwittingly sit through a documentary about the road to Berlin, graphically illustrating man’s inhumanity to man, which is then followed by a programme about great train disasters. It’s not exactly cheerful stuff.

Ma is called not a minute too soon as her dressing is now saturated. ‘Nasty things, greenhouses,’ observes the doctor as he closes and dresses the wound before sending Ma for an x ray. Ma, to our great relief has no fractures – just as well as this is her ‘good’ arm since she did a proper job of mangling the other one falling in the snow.

Ma modelling her dressing.

Nevertheless her arthritic bones have not enjoyed their encounter with the ground and the bruising is something to behold.  She is given a splint to encourage everything to settle.

Despite her mauling, Ma’s as chipper as ever.  ‘I didn’t think I’d be falling out a greenhouse today,’ she says happily. Typically, she doesn’t complain once about how much pain she must feeling – she really is remarkably resilient.

Once again, my thanks to the staff at Glangwili hospital for their compassion, kindness and care… I am not, however, ‘missing you already’.

Ma trying to hide behind Tom

PS Tom has asked me to point out that the above picture is not our 'nasty' greenhouse but belongs to the National Botanic Garden of Wales... at least she managed not to fall out of that one.