I grabbed a cup of cracked corn and went out the back door just before noon today to check on the chickens, because one of my three remaining birds is sick and I don’t expect her to live much longer.

When I stepped off the back porch slab onto a large flat stone we use as a step, I failed to notice that it was coated with glare ice, with predictable results. My feet flew out from under me and I landed HARD, slamming my lower back and upper hip bone against the edge of the stone I’d slipped on, and slamming my head against the edge of the concrete slab.

I let out a bellow of shock and pain you could probably hear two counties away, convinced I’d broken my hip, or worse, my spine. After waiting a few seconds, I cautiously moved my fingers, my toes, and then all four limbs. They all worked. Sofar, so good. I rolled over onto my side, not trusting my legs yet because I had wrenched my bad knee when I landed. As I got on my hands and knees and slowly tried to rise, I saw blood in the snow, on the porch slab, and dripping down my hands and neck. A lot of blood. My blood.

Oh, SHIT, I murmured, rising painfully to my feet. I put my hand on my head. In an instant it was soaked. I began pressing down on the wound, which was awkward because I was also trying to hold onto the porch post to keep my balance. I got to the back door and let myself in as the blood ran down my neck and onto my jacket. I locked the back door, hobbled to the kitchen (trying not to drip blood on the rugs) grabbed a handful of paper towels, and slapped them on my head. I limped to the front door and unlocked it, grabbed my keys, called 911, took instructions from the dispatcher and sat down to wait for help.

Pretty soon one of Brookfield’s finest arrived and asked me the usual questions–any loss of consciousness? (no) What is your name? (Sharon Mahoney) What day is it? (President’s Day, Feb. 15) Who is the President? (Joe Biden, THANK GOD–He cracked up at that and agreed with me) Then my buddies EMT Chief Donna Lafleur and Fire Chief Peter Martell arrived, strapped me into a gurney, and I got to ride in their fancy, new, just-delivered ambulance to Mary Lane Hospital. The terrific ER staff there cleaned the wound, Xrayed my hip (negative), CT-scanned my noggin (negative), closed the inch-long laceration with two staples, and discharged me at about 4 pm. My wonderful neighbors Doreen and Cliff dropped what they were doing, came and got me, and drove me home, hubby being in upstate New York on business today. Needless to say, at the least I owe both of them a nice gift and a thank-you card.

So here I am, getting ready for bed with not a thing accomplished today except getting really badly banged up and sore all over. I feel like I’ve been in a prizefight. But I suppose it could have been a lot worse.

So, how was YOUR Presidents Day, friends? 😆

Posted in Memoir, Real Life, Uncategorized.