Waiting
G'ma fell. She doesn't remember how or why but her screams brought the aides to the bathroom at 5am on Sunday. My phone rang ten minutes later; I knew it wasn't going to be good news as soon as I saw the time. No one calls to share happiness before the sun rises. The EMT met me in the courtyard; the gate is locked and the code is outside and he was stuck within. We laughed about it and then, looking altogether too serious, he asked me if I was squeamish. There was the second indication that everything was not all right. Her leg was broken. The sole of her foot was next to her ear. It took ten milligrams of morphine to sedate her enough to move her from the floor to the gurney. I stayed out of the way, in the living room of the pod castle, sparing myself the sight, heeding my family's warnings to be sure to take care of myself, too. By the time we met up at the hospital, they'd reduced the fracture (medical speak for putting her leg back in the dir...