My 387th Rodeo

ANSWER

NOW

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QUICK

!!!!!!!

Please

UGH why aren’t you answering

So went the text from Maire that I received immediately upon exiting Hanson Middle. My phone didn’t ring and/or beep while I was there for open house, “SOS only” in that school and I’m not sure if that is by design or if that building emits a force field that repels cell signal. I called Maire and heard exactly what I had thought I would hear—something had happened to Nana. “Nana cut her leg and there’s blood everywhere!” Maire told me. As this was my 387th rodeo, I did not panic which says a lot. “Ok. Is she talking?” I asked. I could hear her saying something along the lines of being “FINE!!” in the background so that question was answered easily. Then Isaac got on, telling me there was “a lot of blood but it wasn’t too bad.” “I’ll be right there.” I said.

I tried my best to speed out of the long and winding road that is the entrance to HMS and decided to call Isaac. “Isaac is this something that needs 911?” I questioned. “I mean, maybe?” he replied, not making me feel any better. “I personally think she’s fine but there is a lot of blood so there’s that.” At this point I was making a sharp turn onto Gorwin Drive and was not the first person to break the speed limit in this neighborhood. I honestly thought as I did that “I hope Officer Daley and Frazier don’t see me.” They live there too.

When I ran into the house the first thing I saw was red puddles next to the dishwasher with some footprints and towels scattered around. I looked to my left and there was Mom, holding a bloody paper towel on her leg. She had somehow managed to put two large bandages on the wound but blood was seeping through. “I’m going to go ahead and call 911.” I told her. “Oh god. Why?” she protested. “Because blood Mom. Blood.” Elderly skin=paper.

As I held the towel on her leg, I described what was happening to the emergency dispatcher and waited for a familiar group of men to arrive at our house. In walked one of our neighbors, Billy Hurley, and two or three others who I recognized from before. “Wow! That’s a lot of blood!” our neighbor said. “Yup!” I agreed. As the EMTs went about looking at Mom’s leg, Mom made small talk with all of them about where they went to school, etc. “Did you go to Whitman Hanson?” she asked looking at one EMT. “No I’m a Silver Lake kid.” he said. “Oh.” she had no follow up on that response.

What Mom didn’t realize was that Billy Hurley, a Gorwin Drive original since 1978, was the one addressing her wound. “You know who this guy is, Mom.” I said to her. “No I don’t, do I?” she asked. “It’s Bill Hurley!” With this she fell back in her chair in disbelief “Oh my GOD!” she exclaimed “Billy Hurley??? I just got a card from you and your wife!” At this I was quick to point out that this was Bill Junior not senior and that the one she was referring to was 75 and certainly not an EMT. Once again, Mom managed to turn a minor blood bath into a social event complete with reminiscing about taking ceramics class with Bill’s mom. I shook my head in awe and a touch of embarrassment because you just can’t prepare people for this tank of nature.

With the help of some of Hanson’s finest (not to mention Paul Skarinka driving my son home from the high school soccer game as I was otherwise occupied), Mary evaded a trip to the ER yet again. The wound wasn’t bleeding as heavily as before and a decision to just urgent care it in the AM was made, I mopped up the blood, cleaned up the kitchen, and JD was delivered back home. Then, as luck would have it, another Gorwin Drive original none other than the one and only Nancy Walsh swooped in the next day to use her nursing skills to help Mary avoid urgent care. As I sit here and type away, Mom is rustling about in the kitchen—a habit that I cannot curtail. “I just can’t” the soft Boston a of that word shining through every time we tell her to sit more. She has, most likely, a touch of the ADHD. Oh well, it has carried her this far why stop her now? So goes another week in our crazy home; there’s laundry everywhere and dinner is not yet cooked. Chinese anyone? But, for now, no one is bleeding profusely today so we’ll call this week a win. The night is still young. Knock on wood.

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