My vacation nearly finished me off when I was taken down by a three-foot Mickey Mouse.
Here’s how it happened.
My son asked me if I would fly to Oklahoma to babysit while he took his wife on a business trip with him to Las Vegas…
I told him I would love to, as long as he let me borrow a car to go visit his sister, two and a half hours away, before I went back home, and he agreed instantly.
My only concern was getting on an airplane during the flu season, but I decided to take my chances.
I arrived Tuesday night and spent Wednesday becoming familiar with my granddaughter’s daycare locations and I did a little shopping.
My three-year granddaughter had time to re-fall in love with her Grammy before her parents left and my eleven-year old grandson had just spent an entire summer with us in New Hampshire.
Feeling quite competent as an experienced mom of four with fifteen grand-kids and five great-grand-babies added to my résumé, I watched my son and his wife drive away on Thursday morning.
That afternoon, with a GPS and my grandson’s help, I managed to find my granddaughter’s daycare.
We enjoyed a dinner of macaroni and cheese with bacon on the side. (I let them decide the menu.)
As we prepared to settle down to watch TV, gathering blankies and pillows, dimming lights and putting away toys, a three-foot Mickey Mouse hid in the walking space between the couch and the wall.
Feeling quite happy as we headed for the couch, my right foot stepped on Mickey Mouse and given the slick tiles beneath him, I was immediately airborne.
My left knee hit the floor first, then the palms of both hands and last, I made contact with the tile with the right side of my face.
It was blackness and silence for about twenty seconds when I assume I was unconscious, and then I heard my two grandchildren screaming, “Grammy, Grammy, are you okay? Grammy?”
The little one also kept asking if I was asleep.
When I could finally raise my head and answer them, I reassured them that I was fine and that I was just going to have one heck of a black eye.
We hammered some ice in a towel for an icepack as I continued to assure them I was okay.
My eye swelled and began to turn black, blue and red. My head pounded on one side and my knee swelled to double its size.
I could barely move my hands.
I had to reassure my granddaughter numerous times that it wasn’t her fault that Grammy fell and I reminded her that I was the one who had brought Mickey Mouse into the living-room.
My favorite thing in the world is spending time with my grandchildren, so giving in to these injuries was not an option.
As we finally settled down to watch TV, I began to thank God because I considered how badly this all could have ended.
I could have split my entire head open with the force of the fall and I could have stayed unconscious and not gotten back up which would have left my two grandkids without anyone there to watch them. I could have died and they would have had that memory burned into their heads.
I asked my grandson what he would have done if I hadn’t got back up and he said, “I would have called 911.”
“That’s great,” I told him, “but in an emergency where you would be left alone, also call another adult to come over, your aunt or your other grandmother.”
I continued to thank God over and over as I relived the fall in my mind and realized just how bad it could have been.
It was definitely a miracle that I hadn’t split my head open. Just one small cut over my eyebrow.
I woke the next morning with the worst sinus headache I had ever met, and all the symptoms of a severe head cold but I was just grateful to be alive.
I had an incredible visit with my precious grand-kids in spite of my handicaps and went on to spend the next week with my daughter and her kids. (All together, I visited with seven grand-kids and two great-granddaughters.)
By then my knee was really hurting and I couldn’t get up stairs without assistance, so I had to swallow my pride and allow my daughter and my grand-kids to help me.
The flight home was a day of hell on earth. Besides my exhaustion from carrying on hurting and sick for two weeks, as the air pressure fluctuated, so did the pain in my head and my right ear.
I saw my doctor when I returned home.
I was still bearing a black eye and limping.
He was so mad I hadn’t been checked out after I fell.
Maybe in a perfect world, but I was functioning and alive and not willing to spend $1200 dollars for an emergency room doctor to tell me that I had a slight concussion and to take it easy.
I had my older sister to warn me to take it easy and now I was home, my doctor ordered a cat scan that told me nothing and he gave me a prescription for the sinus infection. He never even checked my knee but he did pronounce a slight concussion.
As I go through hundreds of awesome pictures from my family vacation, my black eye prominent, I am so grateful that God gave me another miracle.
I was almost done in by a three-foot Mickey Mouse, but God picked me up off the floor, damaged and bruised, but functioning and alive, amen.
My grandson, Cole, last summer.