|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on July 5, 2020 at 12:35 AM|
As soon as I feel we can relax...I hear a loud 'thud' and I jump up. I ask if he's okay... but something just doesn't feel right. I tell him 'I'm coming in'. He had a hot shower to warm up and it left him lightheaded afterwards. He fell over and I walk in to find him on the bathroom floor. His head has a cut, but it doesn't look good. At all.
Heads bleed a lot. Apparently, it's known. But in that moment, it was shocking. It felt like a lot. He was calm. I was not.
We need an ambulance...or just more pressure... omg.. are you okay? Towels! Press this on. Does it hurt? Don't get up, don't move. I'll help you. Go slow! You're not fine. Let's get going, but slooowwwly.... stay down, go slow. But hurry up. Hold the towel. Don't touch it! Should I call 911? I'm calling. They would take longer than us going ourselves. Okay, let's go. You're right. We have to go- it's not good. Take a photo for me. Are you serious? click,click. There. See, it's bad. Come on. Please, it's now. Can I finish getting dressed?
I slide a chair over. Sit here. I will tape it. Get chair-dressed. Here's a shirt. I'll help. Tape my head. I add layers of paper towel and gauze. It's dripped all over his ear and shoulder already but I can't worry about that.
I do a horrible job of taping it to his head, paying no mind to the peachfuzz or coverage. It's haphazardly taped like a star with long weird legs of tape going every direction. I should have framed the gauze. Gak! I don't know! It's already pooled full of red liquid and I know my tape job will not suffice.
Can we go? Can you hold a towel on it? I will help you. Let me hold you up. Here, your shoes are ready. Go slow! Lean on me. We get into the car.
I breathe and try to calm myself. I know I am in a state of shock and panic and I need to get a grip. Can you drive? he asks, almost as if reading my mind. I exhale and nod, yes. I'll be okay now that we are going. Talk with me and stay awake. Hold that towel up, too. Are you okay? Yes, he says. And we drive.
We get to the ER (22 minutes later) and I help him in. I park the car and return to find him partially mummified with fresh gauze wrapped neatly around his head and under his chin while we wait our turn.