OOPS – Part II

Continued from last week.

I never lost consciousness—thank God. I rolled onto my back, but I was in so much pain, I couldn’t breathe. As my face hit the ground, I recall hearing a crack. (I now think it might have been my wrist—my right one.)

While I lay there, I heard voices. I opened my eyes and looked up. There stood a man and a woman. I remember seeing them as I walked past their table.

“Can you see me? Is your vision blurred? Can you see clearly? Did you lose consciousness?” The guy studied me as I lay there.

“Yes. No. Yes. No.”

“Where are you hurt?”

I showed him my wrist. “I’m sure this is broken.” It already looked distorted and had started to swell. So had my ankle. I wasn’t sure about it. And my face was bruised and scraped. “I’m going to have quite a shiner.”

A lovely young lady from Starbucks came out with a damp rag, a plastic bag filled with crushed ice, and some paper towels. I put the ice on my wrist while the two ladies told me where the abrasions on my face were bleeding. I used the damp rag to wipe away the blood.

Angels watching over me. Thank God.

The man moved from one side to the other. “Do you want us to call an ambulance?”

“No. I don’t have my purse or my phone or my ID. Please get my husband. He’s in the white van on the street over there behind the hedge.”

He asked me to describe the van and asked what my husband’s name was. Then he left.

The woman smiled. “He’s a fireman and EMT. He was checking you out.”

Angels watching over me. Thank God.

Just as he left, another young lady ran up. She had been out running with her dog. She knelt down and took my left hand and began to ask what hurt. She looked me over. “I’m a trauma specialist. There are several urgent care facilities near here. I can give you directions.”

Angels watching over me. Thank God.

I explained why we were there and how we had to get to Dana Point Harbor before noon. Even as injured as I was, this was still my first priority. I also didn’t want to get stuck in the hospital in San Diego.

The young lady from Starbucks returned with some antiseptic swabs and band aids.

Angels watching over me. Thank God.

Larry and the fireman returned. They asked if I thought I could sit up

I said I thought I could.

They each took an arm and helped me sit.

“Are you dizzy? Don’t try to stand yet. Just get your bearings.” The fireman studied me again.

I felt pretty well—considering how bad my ankle and wrist hurt.

After a couple of minutes, he asked if I thought I could stand.

I nodded.

Once again, Larry took one arm, and the fireman took the other. They got me to my feet. I tried to put weight on the bad ankle. It held. It hurt, but I didn’t think it was broken—just badly swollen.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to get the names of any of my guardian angels.

Larry put an arm around me and helped me to the van. I got settled and placed the ice bag on my wrist again. Then I pulled down the visor and checked my face. It looked bad. I wiped the scrapes with the antiseptic wipes. Then I tried to cover up some of the worst of the damage—not successfully.

Linda texted that they were ready to leave the boat, so Larry crossed the street to meet them.

To be continued next week.