❤
You might be called a common weed
Yet, in my not so perfect garden
You are a blessed breed
Without much effort on my part
You thrive and smile
Each morning when I start
My rounds of greetings
With gifts of healthy drinks
Water crystal clear for our meetings
You might be called a common weed
But, in my multicoloured garden
You are a welcome breed
~
I composed this poem the day before my fall on Friday, 4 May 2018. I was gardening in my nightie and my dressing gown at 8:30 am, admiring my work and this lovely bloom, not paying enough attention to my feet as I was gently descending the stairs. On the last step I tripped on the dressing gown and went flying in the air, hitting hard concrete with my left hip. I tried to get up. OUCH! I couldn’t move at all. The pain was excruciating. I called my husband, but he was still asleep. Then I just called HELP, HELP, hoping passers-by might hear me. I looked at the sky, wondering whether the clouds would protect me from too much sun. The pain was getting worse and I was afraid I might pass out. I remembered then my mother’s agony when she had a fall and broke her femur in 1996. Then my thoughts wandered to the ANZACs, how they must have suffered just like this.
An angel came to my rescue. She lives in our house and was on her way to work, coming up the stairs about 9 am. She immediately called the ambulance, woke up my husband, and came all the way with me to the Royal North Shore Hospital. Sasha followed in his car.
The paramedics drugged me appropriately. In the emergency I was given more local anaesthetic before the X-ray. I think I was half asleep when I heard someone say: “Sorry to tell you, the bone is broken, you’ll need an operation. Dr Ruff will operate.”
“Dr Ruff! How wonderful! He operated on my mother some 20 years ago. Same thing.”
I was truly relieved when I heard the familiar name. Besides, Dr Ruff has a very good reputation.
The op was on Saturday at 11 am. Dr Ruff remembered me and my mother.
“I remember your face “, he said. “You make me feel so old… I’ll fix your leg, you’ll be able to stand on it again.”
After rehab at Greenwich Hospital I came home on Friday, 1 June, grateful for all the care by the doctors and nurses and physios and my loved ones. Grateful also I only broke my femur and not my neck.
At Royal North Shore Hospital in the evening after my operation, enjoying chicken soup made by a dear friend.
The view from my Greenwich Hospital bed
The view from my Greenwich Hospital window. The window was always shut. The air-conditioning was always on.
I just loved hospital food. Served three times a day and I didn’t lift a finger to put it on the table!
Sasha’s gift for Mother’s Day. He came to see me every day. Dear friends came, too, and brought me flowers and fruit and snacks.
It may sound strange but when I came home, I was just a tad homesick for the hustle and bustle of the hospital. I met so many lovely people from all over the world.
❤
©Copyright 2018 Irina Dimitric
Irina's Poetry Corner 