She had fallen while trying to sit down at the dinning room table, lost her balance and an employee couldn't keep her from falling, actually pulling Pat down with her. She landed on her left hip that had an hip replacement three summers ago from a fall. :-( The same hip was solid blue, swollen and her bottom calf was all blue and swelled and looked like a baseball. This set off a red flag instantly when I saw it, because when one is on Coumadin, a blood thinner, no mistakes or chances can ever be taken.
So we are in the ER, at a small hospital where they still use hanging curtains to separate 2 large rooms. We got her settled in and she was to have x-rays and an MRI, on her head where she also hit it above her eye. This was going to take a bit of time, so when the staff left with her, I went out side for a few moments. As I was leaving the ER, I noticed from the side of my eye that a crowd of people were coming into the waiting area to sign in, with one, a teenager, looking like he had something wrong with his face. Not looking directly at any of the party, I exited the building.
As I returned to my cubby hole in the ER, right beside me was that young man and what seemed like his father. The conversation I heard speaks for itself.
Did you not realize what you were doing?
No, I wasn't paying attention or something.
How many cans of fuel were there, just two?
Yes, and I wasn't paying attention. I just grabbed one.
Well couldn't you tell a difference in them? The fuel, In the smell of them?
No, I wasn't paying attention. I was just trying to get the brush to burn.
There is a difference in the smell with gas and fuel oil, Son.
I instantly let out an uh-huh... covering my mouth, as if not to let them know I was listening to their conversation. It continued and when this young teenager said the next sentence I began to understand.
As I said I wasn't paying attention and there is something different about this gas and fuel oil here. It doesn't smell like it does in West Virginia.
Well, I reckon everyone is trying to burn round here now that it has rained a bit.
He leaves the ER for a bit, and I'm sitting there shaking my head, and trying to not say out loud again uh-huh as they start up the conversation again.
Well, you look better already. That white cream has already took the red off of your face, but you do have some second degree burns.
A few moments passed and nothing was said then all of a sudden out of his fathers mouth came this:
I tell you how you can really get something to burn good. Take some pine cones, soak them in black motor oil and this will set fire to anything.
There on the ER table laid his son, blistered up from a gas explosion that came back on him, being taught how to continue to burn but the proper way. As I said, this conversation speaks for itself.
Frances returned, nothing broken, just bruised really bad and sore. Given a prescription for pain medication, we came home, gratefully. It just goes to show you how blessed many are.
passion ~
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