had to scoot on back across room to office to get to a phone

A message from Tammy Coia: Please note that the pictures in this blog are all a re-enactment of the actual event.  Melitas has to realize that if this writing gig doesn’t work out for her hollywood should be calling, she is an amazing actress!  Great fun with Melitas (as always!)

Melitas trips on the fan cord

NILE—OOPS, NO ACTUALLY IT WAS ON THE TILE

 

     (Very easy to make that mistake—“n” and “t” are next to each other on my QWENTY keyboard)

 

     It was no doubt destined to happen again—that I would be Home Alone! The Warden had gone over to the golf club, and there I was poking away on the computer in the dining room on something or other. You know, my work is so secret I don’t even know what I’m doing.  I was at a point when I needed some little item from the office, I got up from chair and with tunnel vision in high gear, sped through the kitchen, then sailed around the corner into the little hall that goes into the office.  I looked down too late to spot the electric cord, to miss it, and while I was in mid-air before the knees and what-not hit the tile, my life was flashing before my eyes, but when it got to the part about the Home Alone Rules Book, everything stopped—well, not really—that’s when the yelling and screaming and crying began—and somehow the old brain took over and said — Well, you old fool — it serves you right, that’s what you get when you ignore the Warden’s Rules Book.

     First Rule broken was getting up and not walking with the wheels of Traveller to get me from Point A to Point B, keeping me upright and not allowing the old mechanical hip to get all busticated in a fall.  And then there is the Rule which is considered THE MOST IMPORTANT of all — the one that sez  that AT ALL TIMES, there had better be on my person my cell phone — with battery fully charged — and the land line phone, maybe in my fanny pack cinched around my waist. Well, when I realized neither was anywhere in sight, the yelling and screaming and crying began again, and besides the pain of it all was  killing me.  I lay there continuing the yelling, screaming, crying, and add howling for good measure — and realized I had to somehow get my body to the desk which was about 15 feet away, and  where the phone was in its base with its little red light showing it was ready for business if anyone was around who could pick it up.  I had to start telling myself “tranquila, tranquila,” (Spanish for “Get your act together”) and settle down long enough to figure out about getting to the phone.  My legs were useless because the knees took the brunt of the Trip on the Tile.  In fact the knees felt like in the old days when the Mafia would look you up to give you some good whacks to break your knee caps — that was for breaking one of THEIR Rules.  I was finally able to turn over on my back — yelling, etc. still at earsplitting level—so then inched my way to the desk sliding on my behind, then with superhuman effort I managed to grasp the phone.  I knew I needed to call 9-1-1, but somehow I had the feeling that there was a Rule with this very scenario saying,  (Above all else, in case you have fallen and cannot get up, take out one of your phones which you have on your person and dial the Warden’s cell number first —definitely not 9-1-1.) So her cell phone was dialed, and when she answered, all that came out of me was incoherent — sobbing, crying, and finally got this out:  “c-c-o-o-m-m-e  h-h-o-o-m-m-e”— very dramatic similar to Greta Garbo in “Camille” so she got the idea that something had happened.

     When Alba arrived home, I was still in the same position next to the desk, she took one look assessing the apparent wounds that were allowing my life’s blood to ooze away onto the Tile.  She sterilized and wrapped the one knee and the one elbow before bothering the folks at 9-1-1 with a call just yet— she also “dressed” me for ER — easy on and off stuff, and warm.  It’s really cold over there.

     First, 4 paramedics arrived in a white vehicle, and they had everything under control with the blood pressure and other stuff they do, and we are joking away even through the pain, then another 4 arrived in a red truck, and even more joking when one of the guys spotted my fake snake, and it scared him enough to where HE may have to call 9-1-1, but when Alba told him it was my pet snake, he started throwing it  at his buddies to scare them, so there was quite a bit of hilarity erupting.  They finally loaded me on a gurney, and hauled me off in the ambulance to Eisenhower where I spent 8 hours freezing like the sides of beef that I saw hanging from hooks in the room across from me. It must be where they keep supplies for the cafeteria. Maybe that room was a figment of my wild imagination, but they were treating me like a side of beef tossing me around in various positions while they brought in movable equipment to x-ray the knees, the hip, and any other body parts that may have broken during the Trip. I was disappointed when they gave me a vicoden for the pain — I much prefer a shot of morphine. The 10 mg Valium worked fine, however, and there were no broken bones in all those pictures they took, so all was tranquila at this point, except the waiting for the doctor to dress the wounds.  He finally arrived, hours later, with trumpets blaring and put everything back in shape with that Derma-glue stuff.  We then were able to escape the freezing temperature — 8 (yes, eight!) hours later — and take me home to my warm bed.

     Remember when I got Traveller? — to give me stability so I would get around without being so paranoid about falling and breaking my already-replaced hip. That replacement has been there 20 years, and they told me it would last about 10 — no wonder I was paranoid!

     With the advent of Traveller, the Rule Book has been growing, and I am hard-pressed to lift it anymore.  The Warden is going to have to place it on a stand where I can just flip the pages to see what might be new.  She is very apt to slip in a new rule, and God help me if I should break that rule which I don’t even know about.

     “Ignorance is not bliss.” — I found this new Rule at the very back of the Rule Book in size 8 font — quite by accident — while using a huge new magnifying glass.

 

 

MELITAS FORSTER                                                                     November 21, 2011

 

"Thank you for sharing this page" ~ Tammy