I Parked Where?

Steve's new real glasses were finally ready. We're not talking "cheaters" here, but prescription bifocals. He already had 5 cheaters of more or less quality (guess which?) scattered around the house and in the car. Since his cataract surgery a few years ago, when he chose distance vision for his new lenses, he's needed them for reading. He does a lot of reading. Oddly enough with that many pairs, any particular one is not particularly noted when it is set down and where. So of course, they're always "lost", at least long enough to be annoying.

Somewhere in the logic is the assurance that adding three more pairs to the list, being "real" ones, means they will be better kept track of. At any rate, he was approaching the end of the year with insurance money to spend on vision needs. His eye exam was a couple weeks back. It cost less than it might have, leaving a nice pile of insurance funds to spend on glasses before year end. He picked out three frames, each with a different kind of lens. One is for indoor use, clear glass. A second has transition lenses, where he can wear them inside and the minute he steps outside they darken into shades, and back again. The issue with those is they are triggered by UV rays, which auto glass filters out. They always disappointed me when I thought they'd be useful for driving. The third pair was sun glasses in RayBans  frames, great for while in the car and nicely fashionable to boot. When it's not your own money you're spending, and nowhere else it can be spent, it's nice to splurge a bit to look good.

He actually got the notice they were ready for him to come pick up over a week ago. The problem was winter. I mean snow, ice, cold temperatures, my reluctance to poke my head outside with my cold not improving and my need to stay as healthy as possible in order to not delay surgery. Of course there were the seat belts to make usable as well. We almost picked out one day to go the next morning but that turned into my dental appointment. 

We had to be choosy and be sure to get there in early morning. This store is notorious for having a tiny number of motorized shopping cart/scooters. Back when I had to use them to pick up my Dad's medications, before my knees were replaced, there were only two. I had to walk. And of course complain. Now this store has a whole four. It's still hard to arrive any time after ten and plan to find one available and charged. Since they have one entrance on one end of the building and the vision center on the far other end, Steve needs a scooter.

We arrived by 8:30 despite the vision center not opening till 9. Better not to take chances on them being already in use. I usually pull up to the front door, let Steve out and go park in handicap parking which he qualifies for. In good weather he'll scoot out to the car and I'll drive it back into the store. Winter is an issue we've avoided pretty much. Despite it being deep into the x-mas shopping last minute rush, the parking lot wasn't too full when we arrived, and Steve pointed out a really close parking spot, right behind the wide curb on the other side of the road separating parking from driving, so I aimed for that spot. That was the first mistake.

 One of the flaws with my low seat in my car is the vision on the passenger side to where the car aligns with the stripes. I tend to park nearer the passenger side than the driver's side in any given parking spot. Mostly it's not a problem as I'm usually alone in the car. I get plenty of room that way, though occasionally I need to back out a bit and move over. I had that feeling when I'd pulled forward, and asked Steve how I was lined up.

He pronounced my position to be perfect. That was another mistake.

After he stepped out, he shut the door but not completely. Turning back to the car, he reopened the door, shut it harder, and next thing I knew my car felt like somebody had just bumped it with their car! A quick look showed nothing out the rear mirrors, and the truth dawned on me. Steve wasn't showing either! He'd fallen, between the curb and the bottom of the car!

I got out as fast as I could, no thought to me of bad shoulders or how hard I stepped while needing refreshed arch supports, knowing only that two men were directly across from us in the opposing handicap spaces, and  were possibly heading into the store and away from us. The door was barely opened before I was yelling, "Help!" One of the two had seen the fall, and the other's attention was drawn as we converged at the front of the car to see Steve lying on the pavement, wedged between bumper and vehicle.

One pulled out his phone to call 911 as soon as I said he'd need help getting up. (Yes, we'd done this fallling thing before, just not so dramatically. Both of us need an informed lift.) The store staff were the first to emerge, as numerous shoppers went in to sound the alarm there. In that short amount of time we all saw the 8" patch of ice covering the pavement from the bottom of the bumper to the wheels.  Steve had been right when he claimed he had room to get out, just not room to move from that. Neither of us had seen the ice. He didn't have a chance, especially once he'd turned to slam the door harder.

The crowd was growing as we waited for assistance that would do more good than harm. We both informed the gathering crowd that he could not get up on his knees, period. The police were early arrivals, asking where he'd been hurt. At the moment he could pinpoint that he'd hit his head, hard, on that curb bumper. Later he was able to notice one knee was hurting, and the next day noted an injury to his forearm. He was a bit dizzy and the mention of his head made everybody extra cautious in moving him. The ambulance siren was audible in the distance and everybody deferred to them, waiting for them to actually find us and pull up.

The real problem was, as I saw it, not so much that he'd slipped on ice, or even hit his head, but that as the minutes passed he was stuck lying on the icy pavement... the still very cold icy pavement. It wasn't 9AM yet. 

 There was a throw blanket on the back seat of the car, and I brought it out for the police to cover him with, which did nothing for all that heat seeping out of him into the pavement. Or was it the cold creeping up into him from the ground? 

Once the paramedics arrived, it was finally decided he needed to be up off the ground. I needed to back the car out without driving over him. (Ya think?) A combination of people pulled the blanket under him and over him so both sides of it pulled together would snug him up on his side to that bumper. Note they didn't lift him another 5 inches and off the ice. I was directed by a cop exactly how far to crimp my front wheel and when to back out and how far. It was executed safely, and with everybody avoiding the ice now with dry places to plant themselves, got him safely sitting up on the slightly higher ground. Feet still on ice of course, to be fixed later.

Meanwhile, after the same cop said for me to park and never mind where I left the car,  I jockeyed myself into the neighboring spot, this time right along the space separating handicapped parking spaces so he'd have ample space to get into the car without ice, either with or without heading into the store to complete picking up his glasses. It hadn't been decided yet if he needed medical care, especially with the head bump. Everything he was saying indicated he was going to turn down a ride to the hospital and get his glasses, so I started asking the last store employee, who was still hanging around to see how it resolved, if she could possibly head into the store and see if there was an empty, fully charged scooter for him to make his trip in. She brought one out shortly before all the official helpers dispersed. I had to give them his name and phone number before they let us both go. I was (warned?) that somebody might call us later to check on how he was and whether letting him loose was the proper call. I understand their concern. Nobody wants to find out later a subdural hematoma was overlooked with subsequent damage.

I sat in the car with it running, working to keep it warm for Steve to climb back into after his chill. One of the men who'd been across from where I parked returned from his shopping, and detoured over to me concerned that Steve had left in the ambulance. I reassured him he was inside shopping, and thanked him for his help earlier. The man was ten years older than Steve and had his own experience with falls. We   briefly compared our particular needs when getting vertical again. None of us are independent.

About a minute later Steve's scooter emerged from the doors of the store. He sat there and waved, and I didn't blame him. I pulled out and maneuvered the car over to the entrance so he could climb in as easily as possible. Once he was belted in and settled, we both decided we'd go back to dropping him and picking him up at the door in the future. At least while I could drive, anyway, so maybe we just stay away from that store, say, after my shoulder prevents me driving while it heals. This store was mandated by his insurance. The new year is a different pharmacy, and that store now lets us pick them up at the drive-up with our grocery orders.

Once home our primary concerns were getting him warmed through and how much did each part hurt? There are three points of impact. The head hurt more the first day, but the surface was a very minor abrasion, no bruise showing even now. Still, poke it at your peril. The second, and only other obvious point through the first day was one knee. It's a larger abrasion, and more tender bruise. He doctored it with adhesive heat patches and Tylenol. The third and weirdest point is on a forearm, where there is a black spot on his skin. I had never noticed them, and his docs always said they were/are nothing to be concerned about. Only now, one looks like a vein is trying to push up from below, a prominent thin bulge about two inches long and deeply black. This is the most painful for him, and being peculiar, the most worrisome. It's the reason three days later he's still taking Tylenol. We'll be keeping an eye on it, hopefully to watch it disappear.

By the way, for those wondering, Steve loves his three new pairs of bifocals.  (I still love my 3-year-old original one pair of trifocals, but then I'm the one paying for mine.)