
A few Saturdays ago I was enjoying a nice little nap on the couch while the kids were sleeping and Shanna was out. Shanna called my cell phone which I had set to “loud” for some reason. It freaked me out and then worried me that the kids would wake up from their naps, so I jumped off the couch and started running to the kitchen to get the phone.
Except that I hadn’t completely woken up. I was wearing socks, and as soon as my feet left the carpet and hit the wooden parquet floors, I started sliding – fast. I realized I was sliding, put my hands out to stop myself, and managed to grab the dining room table, but not adequately. I more or less pushed the table hard and continued to slide and now fall. I didn’t move my hands fast enough and planted my face squarely onto Clark’s exer-saucer toy, that mega plastic toy that is making him ADHD.
I don’t remember a lot after that except picking myself off the floor and getting to the phone. As I “talked” to Shanna I realized blood was dripping onto the floor. I told Shanna I needed to call her back. I limped back to the bathroom, looked at my face in the mirror, and immediately felt nauseous. I looked like Braveheart, only half my face was red, not blue like Mel Gibson.
Managed to wash my face a bit and saw a huge gash above my eye, called Shanna back and told her I fell and needed her to come home. Clark meanwhile had woken up from all the commotion and was crying. Oh well, he was contained in a crib. I laid on the floor and waited.
Shanna called Laura, who called Chris, who was on his way to Bill’s house. He did a quick u-turn and ran to our place. Shanna arrived a few minutes later in a taxi. Everyone who saw me shuddered a bit at first and then would say “I think you need stitches.” They were right.
Chris and I got a taxi to the Prague emergency room, and with a bag of frozen peas over my eye, the doctor took one look at me and said (in English), “Take off your trousers.” Chris and I looked at each other and Chris said, “Man, I wish I had my camera.” So I took off my trousers and was escorted into a Stephen King-like trauma room that looked and smelled communist.
But it was amazing – I was back home less than an hour later with 5 stitches and a tetanus shot in my butt (no trousers). No insurance, but I just paid $40 and that was it. Very impressive. I looked very tough and mean – no one made eye contact with me on the metro anymore, and the Greenpeace volunteers no longer approached me as I entered the metro station.
Phil