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Butterfly Bash(ed)

Butterfly is normally as much fun as a barrel of monkeys, but this past week – not so much.  First she came down with a nasty cold and holed up in her house like a hibernating bear.  As much as she hates cold weather, she’ll still come out to prune roses and tackle other winter garden clean-up chores.  When she doesn’t, I know she doesn’t feel well. 

Then she chose to stay home from her piano lesson.  There was another sign that she was under the weather.

But the real clincher was when she missed mass on New Year’s Day.  You know Butterfly is down for the count when she skips church, because that almost never happens.  Plus there was a hike after church (a senior group hikes regularly) and she was not the least bit interested.

She started to rally on Friday and seemed in good spirits when I took her to some appointments.  I knew she was getting back into the swing of things when she willing to go to her favorite eating establishment, Jack-in-the-Box.

After a week of not feeling good, on top of the cold, wet weather she hates, the weekend was clear and sunny.  It was cold, but at least it was bright and sunny.  She was feeling much better and we started tackling some gardening chores on Saturday afternoon. 

We even had Electric Horseman involved for part of it.  While pruning one bush, I started running into metal!  “What the heck?”  I thought to myself.  Then I realized I’d run into not one, but TWO tomato baskets that were embedded in the poor bush.

“Butterfly!  Who put these tomato baskets here?!”

“I cannot tell a lie,” she snickered, “but I forgot I did it.  It was a long time ago.”

“No kidding.  Were you trying to torture the poor bush?  I’m going to need some serious help to try to get these out of here.”  And that’s when I got Electric Horseman involved in the surgical removal of said tomato baskets.

She and I continued working until we finally reached that stage where you ask yourself if you should quit for the day or prune one more bush.  Butterfly, as usual, voted to continuing working.  A few minutes later we were going to wish we hadn’t done that.

I was just starting to tackle the next pruning job while Butterfly took sheets off the clothesline, where they had first frozen in place, but eventually thawed and actually dried.  She came out the back door of the house after putting them in the laundry room and proceeded to trip coming down the steps to join me.  Gravity took over and sent her flying down the sloped concrete, where she landed on her right hand, head and right side, with quite a shriek.

I dropped everything and ran up the hill to find her rolling around on the ground, saying, “I hurt myself.”

At risk of repeating myself I said, “No kidding!  You’re bleeding.  What hurts?”

“My hand hurts the most, and I hit my head,” she said, “and my knee.”

I got Electric Horseman and we helped her into the house.   She was able to walk just fine, once she got over the initial shock of it all.  I did not like the looks of the cut over eye (in almost the exact spot she cut it on a hike a few years ago), nor the fact that her hand was swelling and turning black and blue.

Luckily an ER doc lives across the street, so I called him and asked if I could take her over to get a professional opinion as to whether she needed to be seen at the hospital.

With Butterfly holding paper towels to the bleeding parts, we zipped to the neighbor’s house where we received the following diagnosis:  Age 83 + Plavix + bleeding head wound = trip to the emergency room.  He explained that since Plavix is a blood thinner, and that she hit her head hard enough to cause a cut that required sutures, she could potentially have a brain bleed, so she should have a CT scan to rule that out.  Next stop – the local hospital.

At this point we felt we’d entered a TV sitcom. Think “Scrubs”.

The doctor took one look at her and said, “What’s the other guy look like?”

“The other guy,” replied Butterfly, “is a concrete sidewalk.”

“Ouch.  I always lose to that guy, too,” said Doc Funnybone.

more ice!

It wasn’t long before she was tucked into a bed sporting 3 ice packs – one on her head, one on her hand, and one on her knee (under the blanket). 

working butterfly

Her butterfly hair clip came in handy to hold the ice in place on her head wound.  The doctor and nurses were all very impressed that she came so prepared.

Why me?

the right hand gets bigger and bigger

While the doctor’s biggest concern was her head injury, Butterfly’s biggest complaint was her hand injury.  It hurt in a big way, so in addition to a CT scan of her head, an x-ray of her hand was ordered.  Thankfully, results of both were negative and we moved on to repairing the damage on her head.

suturing

Doc Funnybone said, “Wow, that must be some lens to take a photo that close!”

“Well, I did set it on macro.”

“Oh, like she’s a flower!”

I showed him the picture I’d just taken of him putting in a suture.

“Stop!  You’re going to make me sick!” said Doc Funnybone.

This, of course, got Butterfly laughing and him complaining about trying to sew up a moving target.  It was only downhill from there.

perfect stitchery

Despite the constant shenanigans, I think he did a nice job.

We were sent home with instructions to wake Butterfly up every 2 hours through the night to make sure she was still among the living.  She is, but I’m not sure I am.  I’m pooped.  Her right paw, as she calls it, is going to give her a bit of a problem, although she is managing to use the computer and hopes to tackle the piano within a few days.  She won’t be using the garden clippers anytime soon.

For the third time in a few short years, Butterfly is sporting a lovely shiner.  Perhaps she’s trying to set a record.  We are just thankful that Butterfly bounces instead of breaks.