"I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up"

My friend Trisha came to church with us Sunday. At the end of church, when I dropped of my mother at her apartment building, Trisha got out of the van to change seats and consequently fell on the sidewalk while attempting to close the sliding door. How she did it I don't know. But she did, and then she couldn't get back up. She has a bad ankle and she's a little on the heavy side, which is not a judgement on my part because I am too. Okay, I'm a lot on the heavy side.

So I'm trying to get her back up, and then my 75 year old mother, who is also on the heavy side and has a walker, and has purple legs due to some condition, decides to help Trisha. Before I know it, Mom comes over without her walker and bends down to help pull Trisha up. I could see what would happen. I knew what was going to happen. I tried to stop it from happening, but before I could tell Mom to stop whatever she was doing, my mother fell down.

If we thought getting Trisha up was a problem, (she did get up) it was nothing compared to helping my mother off the ground. She was unhurt (except for banging her head) but she simply could not get her legs under her to get herself up even with help. And she was wearing a skirt.
"No, don't help me anymore," she said after several attempts, which I can't blame her for since I was useless.

We called 911.

Once I knew my mother was okay and it was only her dignity on the line, I could see the humor in the situation and the resulting domino effect.

“Tell them I've fallen and I can't get up,” my mother told Trisha who was on the phone with the dispatcher.

“She wants to know how far she's fallen,” Trisha said.

“She fell from standing to sitting,” I replied.

Three handsome paramedics, who looked like actors in a show about paramedics rather than real paramedics, came and immediately asked my mother if her head and neck were okay and if she had any injuries.

“I just need help getting up,” she insisted.

One cute paramedic asked Trisha and me what happened. When we explained the situation he couldn't help laughing.

“It's a good thing you didn't fall down too,” Trisha said to me. "Can you imagine all of us lying in the grass unable to get up?"

“I would have gotten myself up again,” I said wanting to maintain my dignity in front of these guys who like I said, looked like they belonged on a television show instead of in front of my mother's building.

They managed to get my mother on her feet easily because that's what big, strong, handsome paramedics do.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” I asked her.

“No, I can get there myself,” she insisted. “I'm independent.

“All right,” I nodded allowing her some shred of dignity.

You can bet those guys went back to the fire station and had a good laugh.

I swear I saw this episode on Emergency.

My nine-year old daughter having overheard my remark about being able to get myself up couldn't resist saying "Two grandma's, one who can get up and one who can't."

My life is a sitcom.

*****
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