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Thursday, May 30, 2013

 

Hip, Hip-Forget the Hooray


Hip, Hip-forget the Hooray

 

Last Friday was yet another medical emergency in this family.  Have you been counting?

I, well, have my chronic problems and being rammed by a Silverado truck did nothing to help on that plane of thought.

At the same time, my sister and parents were rear-ended.  Thank goodness my parents were shaken but okay.  My sister had a concussion and the pain resulting from that.

 

My sister-in-law found out she had breast cancer and had a successful surgery-but before the poor woman could breathe, we found out that our nephew, her son and only 27, was diagnosed with a rare cancer that is growing around his heart. 

 

He’s just completed round 2 of chemotherapy.

 

Our younger nephew followed his aunt and mom and a car hit him.  The driver wasn’t much older than him and was obviously higher than a kite.  He has whiplash and a minor concussion.  Poor guy-his first new car and it’s still under debate whether or not to claim it a total.

And now for the explanation of the title of this week’s blog-my mom (who’s more blind than sighted) was walking her dog and didn’t see a tree route, tripped and fell-resulting in a broken hip.

 

Now my sister and I have been on her to use a cane for years and even after several falls and broken fingers and torn up knees-she has repeatedly refused to even try one.

 

Well, now she doesn’t have a choice.  Thankfully, if one is going to break a hip, this was the way to do it.  Mom did have to have 3 pins put in, but it was done through her skin with dissolvable stitches inside and a couple of “glue” tapes on the outside.  Within 3 days our almost 83 year old mom was walking with a walker.  We suggested a part time aide, but like the cane-she’s refusing any help.

 

I won’t get into the facts-enough to mention that if she had been using a cane she wouldn’t have fallen and broken any limb or bruised anything.  This was also quite a horrible experience for our father has only had maybe a week in his married life total where he and my mom weren’t sleeping in the same bed.  It left him understandably very scared.

 

For our mom, her stubbornness is both her salvation and her downfall.  My guess is that we all have that trait.  Me, not so much.  I’ve got enough going on where if someone in the medical profession said, “You know Carine it might be best if you used a cane for stability.”  I’d do it. 

 

That’s just me; my vanity is not that strong anymore.  I’d rather be safe than sorry. 

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