Mam's Big Mis-Adventure

23 August 2026

2007

R. Linda:

I should move into the medical centre since I'm spending time there. Not for meself, but everyone else. Yesterday, it was Robbie; today, it was me Mam. 

A little background: Robbie brought his dirty laundry with him. Why? Because he is a thoughtless individual who takes a lot for granted. His excuse was that he wasn't expecting to be going anywhere, so his laundry at home was piling up, and when the Weasil told him he was coming to my abode, he had no clean clothes. SO, he just piled what he needed in his suitcase and would wash it when he got to me house. 

I knew nothing about this, but he did have the manners to ask me Mam if he could do a couple of loads. She told him, as long as it wasn't her doing his wash, it was fine by her. AND, that he needed to get it done and out of there because she had wash to do. Sounds good, but well, Robbie is not exactly a listener. He didn't hear her say, "Get in and get out." No, he left his newly washed first load in the washer overnight. It smelt really awful the next morning, and of course, with his eye, he forgot about it entirely. Me Mam didn't. She rewashed it and, when she saw him, told him to put it in the dryer and finish it. 

Well, he did, but this time he left the second load in the dryer and took the first one out without folding it, dumping it on the folding table. Mam asked him to please get his clothes out of the dryer so she could use it. So he did—and piled those on the counter by the soak sink, unfolded.

Now, me Mam has lost peripheral vision in both eyes to a degree, and everyone knows this, including Robbie, who had a conversation with her about the myopic Dragon when he came back from the eye doctors. So to leave clothes all over the laundry room was a bad idea. However, when Mam went to fold her clothes, she could only put them in her laundry basket since there was no space for them. As she was finishing up, she bent down to place something in the basket and cracked her forehead on the granite countertop. 

She said she heard the crack, and then saw the blood, so she ran to the kitchen for ice and wrapped that in a paper towel real quick, sat down and held it to her forehead. Meanwhile, the cause of this was standing at the kitchen counter filling his face and gulping down milk. 

"Somethin' 'appen?" he asked her.

She told him, and he laughed and said, "Oh well, if ye need an IbProben let me know." 

"Can't take that, have high blood pressure." Says she.

"Well, ok." And off he went. 

No, can I help you? No, do you need to go to Casualty? No, what can I do for you? No. Nothing. There she was sitting there bleeding, and he's filling his face.

So, she gets her phone and takes this photo:

Mam vs. granite. Granite won

And she sent it to me and says: "I hit me head. Hard. I heard it crack but I be okay."

It didn't look it to me! Just as I was about to go find her, she sent me this one:

And that photo was accompanied by: "I think it's looking better. I put some ice on it."

Right!

I went downstairs to find her sitting on the couch, icing the wound. It looked pretty awful, but she told me she was feeling fine. I insisted we go to the Casualty and have her checked. No sign of Robbie, by the way. You'd think he'd tell me she cracked her head open, but no, he had a sannie and was off to do whatever he and Weasil were up to.

I got her to the casualty, and no other patients were there. This was great. I had to check her in, and I put cracked skull thinking that would have her seen in no time. I was wrong. No sooner had I done that than some guy came in with his EpiPen and said he'd been bitten by a wasp. Instantly, he was ushered into the doctor's. 

I said to her, "A wasp bite is more serious than a fractured skull? Since when?" Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long. We were called into reception. I was thinking, first you have to sign in on a computer screen, then you have to answer questions in reception, then a nurse takes your vitals, and then, if you're lucky, the doctor comes in. What happens if you are bleeding out? Do you still have to go through all that?

The receptionist (or Mr Sunshine, as Mam called him) was a happy, happy sort. You could be sitting there bleeding out, and he was fine with that. "Oh, a little blood, we can clean that up, don't you worry none." THAT kind of person. I don't know what he was on, but he asked her about her insurance, then he asked her to confirm her birthdate, then he asked her if she worked, and she told him she was retired. Then he started asking her if her injury was work-related. "Well, no, she just told you she's retired," I said. Finally, he asked her date of birth AGAIN to verify she was who she said she was. She just sat there looking at him like he was a lunatic. Finally, she gave it to him again, and he was all set. If she had to spend any more time with him, I think he would have been seeing the doctor too!

We went into the patient room. Her blood pressure was taken, and while this automatic BP machine was doing its work, the nurse said she had to step out to get the wasp guy in an ambulance for transfer to a hospital. As it turned out, apparently a wasp bite was more serious than a fractured skull. Who knew? Meanwhile, the machine did its thing, and then the alarm went off; her blood pressure was 165/95.

I said to her, "You feel okay?" She nodded. Then the machine's oxygen level reading went off; she was not breathing. I looked at her; she started laughing. "Tell me, dis is a bad dream. I don't take as many breaths as other people, so dis happens." Says she. 

"Just breathe more," I said.

And she did. 

The alarm stopped. My God, we went from head wound to high blood pressure to now apparently dead. 

The nurse came in, shut off the machine and said, "You have high blood pressure."

No kidding! I was like So what are you going to do about it? Well, she did nothing. Instead, she started asking Mam what medications she is on. And that was that. 

"I be sure everyone cooms in 'ere wit an injury has high blood pressure," Mam said, after the woman left to get doctor.

If we thought it was going to get better, we were sadly mistaken. The doctor came in and was one of the most tentative human beings I've ever seen. I wondered if, first, he was afraid of Mam. He stood next to the door as if he might need to make a quick getaway. He asked Mam what happened; she told him. He went over, washed his hands, put his surgical gloves on and told her he had to press gently on her wound to see if it hurt. She just looked at him, biting her tongue. I know what she was thinking: It's a bloody hole in me forehead. What do YOU think? He did his exam, told her he didn't think she needed a scan. That she should go home, ice the bumps, and put Neosporin on the wound, etc. BUT he noticed she hadn't had a tetanus shot since 2017. She was due. He went into a whole spiel on tetanus shots, and how important it was she have one. He spent more time on THAT than on her head. 

He sent in another nurse to give the shot, and she was full of the old Harry, as they say. She was not a serious person. She gave Mam the shot, but when it was time to put the band-aid on, she didn't remember where she gave the shot, so she just slapped the band-aid on Mam's arm, and that was that. Then she had some paperwork to give us on what to do, what not to do, what to look out for, etc., and before she left, she slapped another band-aid on Mam's forehead.

We were both gobsmacked.

So we left for Starbucks because we both needed something. As I pulled up, the order-taker sounded like Tinkerbell from Boston, all those years ago. I wasn't sure I heard that voice right, but I hoped I was mistaken. All I'd need was Argiebelle in me life in New Hampshire and the day would be complete. Of course. Why wouldn't Argiebelle be working the Starbucks drive-through? This is apparently me life now. We gave the squeaky-voiced woman our order, and I slowly drove up. I was telling Mam me fears when I saw the person was not Argiebelle. Thank the Fates for small favours. I tell ya! That would be all I needed to end me day. 

While I be paying for our coffees, Mam was busy looking in the mirror. When I looked at her, she had put a smiley face on the band-aid.

Yup!

"Who are you?" I asked her. She just laughed.

Apparently, cracking her head had turned her into Weasil.

The coffee cups, yes, the cups. They, too, added to a crazy day. Hers:

"Yum" indeed

And here is mine, with God knows what that says. It's supposed to say 'Enjoy', I assume. 

Mam said it says, "'Enj oz' like in 'annoys" 

I do believe it does. And frankly, after the day I'd had, "annoys" was far more appropriate than "enjoy."

Gabe

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