On Thursday, Oct. 20, two days after my birthday, I was lookin’ good! Black trench coat, new camo tights and infinity scarf.
Rainy day though. Hurrying down hilly Chesterfield near Fourth Street, slippery leaves on a slick sidewalk.
It was my day to get my granddaughter for a two-day sleepover but her Daddy had been admitted to Langley hospital so I planned to meet them there.
I should not have stopped to check my watch as I hurried to the SeaBus. At least not with the heavy backpack of treats, umbrellas and goodies. The weight of it prevented catching my balance and the worn heel of my much-loved 17-year-old Docs gave way to a crunching fall.
“No, no, no, no!”
I knew this feeling. My elbow was broken. Completely smashed, the surgeon later said.
I couldn’t get up. As I cradled my shattered arm and looked around for a way to access my phone and call an ambulance, two lovely ladies in a hot red car pulled up and asked if I needed a hand. An old car. Looked to be pre-Fiberglas bodies. And shiny! Probably in mint condition. Wish I’d had my wits more about me as I’d like to know what kind of car it was.
The ladies were treasures too. Trim figures, grey hair, unassuming amount of bling on sweaters. They helped me up and took me to Lions Gate emergency.
The only thanks they would accept is knowing I would be taken care of. I want them to know I was. Surgery was performed on Saturday by an elbow specialist. I now have plates and pins where perfect bones used to be.
Home now, thank-you again, lovely ladies in the hot red car.
Teri Thom
North Vancouver
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