After about two awkward, lurching, hesitant steps on the crutches, common sense and a desire to get home that night kicked in and we requested and I got a wheelchair.
The excellent aide who taught me the most about crutches wheeled me out and to the back passenger door of the car. He help me up and I managed to get in on my back with my immobilized leg way up toward the roof. We drove the two short blocks home. I got out of the car with Hilary’s help and got into the house. How I did that and how long it took are not in my memory at all. The dogs were in the backyard as I came through the door, but when they were allowed back in they were very happy to see me. Of course, since they’re Keeshonds, they’re always happy to see people and especially me and Hilary.
At the ER it was suggested I sit on the steps and work my way up backwards. This is very fine advice for someone with an injured leg that will not tolerate any pressure. The leg gets dragged up. It’s also fine advice for people a lot smaller than me. Me, I should have just used a crutch and the bannister and walked up as I easily did the next day.
But I followed the advice to sit and back up. It took 30 minutes plus, left me gasping and muttering and when I got to the top, I knew two things: I’d never do that again, and the was no way I was going to stand up. So I scooted the 15 or so feet to the bed on my butt, rolled over, and using just my arms, rather slowly pulled my carcass up onto the bed. The Percocets were working and I wasn’t in any pain (not that I ever was), and I was exhausted.
We went to sleep, dogs piled up against us.
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