Ever wonder how you would respond in a crisis? The heart stopping, life changing, this-can’t-really-be-happening kind? I’ve always imagined I’d be cool and confident under pressure, then crack once the adrenaline and immediacy of the situation wore off. I was right. But I never expected a crisis to leave me with clean counters and folded laundry.
My husband slipped and fell down the stairs last week, hitting his head on the banister. I found him sprawled halfway down the staircase, bleeding and unconscious, after hearing a series of loud thumps that woke me from a light slumber. The time was 5:20 am.
After my initial scream, which woke our two daughters, I moved into action, putting my extensive Grey’s Anatomy training to good use. Relieved to find my husband’s pulse, I quickly put Ava (9) and Rhys (4) to work.
“Ava, Daddy is hurt and needs an ambulance,” I said, hysteria lurking behind every syllable. “I need you to get the telephone for me and dial 9-1-1. Can you do that?”
Ava’s eyes widened. “Mommy! Mommy, what happened? Why is he bleeding like that?”
“I don’t know what happened,” I yelled. “Get the phone!” Seeing her eyes, widened in terror, reminded me to calm down and breathe.
“Honey,” I said, “I know you’re scared. I want you to look at me.” Surprised by the newfound authority and control in my voice, I said, “Get the telephone and dial 9-1-1.”
As Ava ran to get the house phone, Mike began moaning and slowly writhing, his eyes opening briefly before rolling back in his head. Placing myself between his 6’ 2” frame and the remaining ten steps, my job was clear: use my strength to keep him from rolling down to the bottom.
A flash of pink caught my eye. I looked up to find Rhys standing at the top of the staircase clutching Finn, her favorite doll, and the hem of her rose-covered nightgown.
“Rhys, your job is to get me a clean towel for Daddy’s head. Can you do that, honey?” I said.
Rhys tilted her head and smiled at me before hurrying off; Ava handed me the phone so I could speak with the emergency dispatcher, who tried to calm me down while I begged her to hurry.
Ambulance en route, I turned to Ava again. “You have one more job. Open the front door so the ambulance people can come in.”
When Rhys returned with her offering of a single sheet of wet paper towel, I felt panic building inside my chest. As blood spilled from the gash in Mike’s forehead onto the hard wood steps, I wanted to scream – at Rhys, at the universe, at God, at anyone who would listen. We needed help. Real help. Not a half-sheet of Bounty; a fucking grownup.
Instead of screaming, I pressed my pajama sleeve to Mike’s head and used the paper towel to wipe the smears of blood from my hands.
While we waited for the ambulance, we talked to Mike as he regained consciousness and convinced ourselves he was going to be okay.
The sixty minutes between the ambulance rushing Mike to the emergency room and my friend Jackie arriving to take care of the girls was the longest of my life so far. After leaving messages for friends and family and cuddling with the girls, I settled them in front of the television and looked around for something to do, something to distract me from the panic and dread rising in my chest and the sight of congealing blood pooled on the staircase.
Cleaning was the obvious answer. When in doubt or panic or confusion, I clean. I clean counters to be specific. I doubt I’ve ever cleaned more efficiently. I methodically wiped down our kitchen counters three times before loading the dishwasher and folding the many loads of laundry cluttering our dining room table. I cleaned spit from the sink and scrubbed the toilets, something our children have never seen me do.
This robot mode felt safe, solid, something to hold on to. I knew if I slowed down for even a moment, I’d be overtaken with fear. And I was desperate to keep terror from getting anywhere near me again.
Around the time I started cleaning out the refrigerator, sanity returned. I grabbed a bucket and some rags to tackle the blood-splattered staircase. As I lovingly wiped Mike’s blood, the tears finally flowed. And haven’t stopped since.
Other than a serious concussion, five stitches and two chipped teeth, Mike is remarkably unharmed and recovering well. As for me, I’d like to borrow some of Mike’s resiliency. And our house has never been cleaner.
Linking up with those wonderful writers and supporters over at Yeah Write. Click the image below to check it out!
You are very brave, Mary. And I always clean to calm myself down. Before exams in college my room was always IMMACULATE!
If I had any energy, I’d have a party to celebrate Mike’s recovery and take advantage of our clean house!
Wow! I don’t think I could have been as composed as you, Mary. You’ve published a well-written post, once again, that makes appreciate the common every-day moments in my life … those without drama. It helps me to look at my loved ones with immense gratitude for their safety and health. Thank you for sharing. I’m glad Mike is okay. Whew!
I’m counting on a drama-free zone for at least a little while! Thank you for your kind words and for reminding me to be grateful!
You did amazing here. It’s so scary to think of this…he’s so tall and being unconscious and you having to hold him. Holy crap….you did so good here. YOu and the girls. And I am glad you are writing about it. I hope you write as much about it as you need to. I’ll read and cheer and support you in anyway I can. And I hope I am as cool as you if a crisis demands that of me.
Thank you, love. I’ve been journaling about it a lot and didn’t know I still had so many feelings. I can feel your support and cheering! xoxo
Wow. So scary. I have only had the real medical emergency once and I was surprised how calm I remained until I didn’t have to be calm anymore. And it took me a long time to be able to talk about it. I didn’t know about journaling or acknowledging my feelings. You’re using all the right tools! And your house is clean! And it’s normal to have a lot of feelings about it.
As you know, I’m not a big fan of all these feelings! But better out than in! xo
OMGOSH!!! What a horrifying experience my sweet friend!!!! You are just amazing to take care of the kids and give them jobs and stay calm through it all!!! Such a powerful and beautifully written post about a horrible experience… so so scary. Thank GOD Mike is okay… but terrifying nonetheless. Every decision you made was amazingly thought-ful and your children will remember that always…
Your loving, kind comment brought tears to my eyes – thank you. I’m amazed at how my feelings didn’t come right away and now they won’t stop!
That is so scary! I am glad he is ok. And you were so good with the girls and taking charge. I’m not sure what I would have done, but I’m pretty sure that cleaning would not have been involved. XO
I wish my crisis coping skills were more exotic than cleaning – maybe writing a symphony or an award-winning film script? Those would have made a much better story!
Wow, this is just about the scariest thing imaginable, and you are amazingly strong to have been able to take charge, keep yourself and your girls calm, and just do what needed to be done.
Thank you! Strong, numb, on auto-pilot – all of the above? Now the feelings won’t stop!
Yikes, scary story. Glad you kept your composure and that Mike is okay. Thankfully I’ve never had to deal with a situation like that but I’m guessing instinct just kicks in. That’s what adrenaline is for, right? Of course, as soon as I read the second paragraph, I thought of the old wooden steps in our house to the upstairs. All of us have slipped and fallen on them at one time or another. It hurts like hell, but thankfully no serious injuries. Your story shows how easily it can happen though.
Pure instinct and andrenaline. I couldn’t have thought myself out of a paper bag. I’ve been terrified of our wooden stairs ever since we built them five years ago. I never thought Mike would be the one to fall. Please be safe!
ohmigosh! How scary! I am so glad that your husband is recovering, It sounds like you held it together remarkably well. I would have been flipping out.
I flipped once I knew Mike was okay, especially the next day. Thankfully, he’s doing so much better now. Hugs to you!
I am so very glad Mike is OK – and happy that your Grey’s Anatomy training was put to good use. You will not be surprised to know, of course, that when my son was in the NICU for 46 days after his birth, I was up every day at 4am scrubbing my bathroom floors on my hands and knees. Maybe that’s why my house is such a mess right now? No crisis?
Exactly! I wish I didn’t need an emergency to keep our house picked up – maybe I could get worked up over a broken nail or a paper cut instead?!
Wow- you were awsome (and an awsome post)!
Thank G-d – glad to hear Mike is okay. Having such a clean house is probably helping his recovery. Ha ha.
You should be proud of the way you handled the situation.
Thank you! I guess I am proud, but truly my actions were on auto-pilot. If I had stopped to think a few steps ahead, I would have freaked!
So would most people. The point is you did what you had to and not that you were scared. Who wouldn’t be sacred in that situation?
True. Writing and getting all this supportive feedback is really helping. Thank you.
That’s great.
Glad he is ok. Well done for coping, which is the best we can do! I always think I will panic and do something daft like forget the emergency number!
Yep, coping was the best I could do! Funny, I always confuse 4-1-1 and 9-1-1 in my head, but in this emergency I was clear and focused (even on the edge of hysteria!). Let’s hope you never find out if you’d remember 911!
Wow!!! It sounds like you did very well. Keeping your composure so that you can function and take care of business is often the most difficult part for many people. I used to work for 9-1-1 dispatch, so I was on the receiving end of those panicked phone calls. It was heart breaking to be talking to someone who can’t get it together enough to tell us where we need to respond to.
Landlines provide us with an instant address, but most people use cell phones.
You did wonderfully.
When those things happen to me personally, I do as you suggested in your first paragraph. I am super cool and calm and take care of business, only to lose it as soon as what I need to do is over.
I seem to have an uncanny ability to drive up on car accidents immediately after they have happened.
I hope if I’m ever in a car accident, you’ll be nearby! Thank you for your kind words!
Glad your husband is okay, how scary for you.
Thank you!
Oh God, I am totally freaked out as well. I am beyond happy to hear that mike is okay. You handled yourself fantastic. So controlled for your girls. I’m overwhelmed by this. What a heart stopping way to begin the day. Another reminder of how precious and fragile it all is. big hugs for you. (and if you need another house to clean, come here. i’m just that kind of friend.) xo
I’ll take those hugs! If cleaning your house will keep us all safe, I’ll be right over!
How terrifying! I’m not sure how I would perform under circumstances like that and I certainly hope that I never find out. I’m pretty sure that cleaning would not be at the top of my list, though
Probably wailing and thrashing, but not cleaning. Great job of building up the suspense here and I’m so happy Mike is OK.
I prefer to wail and thrash a day or five after a family emergency! Clean first, wail/thrash later!
Omg girlfriend. You handled that unbelievably well. It’s amazing what that adrenaline will do for us when we are in a crisis. It keeps us from shutting down. So glad that he is okay. I already had a fear of falling down our stairs… They are hardwood and can be slick. This makes me want to get them carpeted TODAY. Bless you, sister!!
Adrenaline is powerful stuff alright. And carpeting on our stairs is a MUST! Be safe!
Thanks! You too!!
Kudos to you for staying so calm in the midst of all that! Especially for being able to calmly deal with your children. I think I would have passed out in a corner after it was all said and done.
Is it too late to pass out in a corner? Please tell me it isn’t!
I’m a screamer who freezes in an emergency, so good for you! I’m glad he’s OK. I loved your headline and ending.
When I think about his accident now, I imagine myself screaming and screaming. Maybe it’s not too late to do some screaming?
The headline came to me in the middle of the night. I like it too!
Cleaning is my coping mechanism too. You done good, mama and your post is funny in the face of some scary circumstances. Well done! Glad you’re hubby’s okay.
I appreciate you getting my humor! I’m somewhat surprised how many people cope with cleaning! Thanks for visiting!
Oh my goodness, that must have been so scary! I’m so glad to hear he was ok.
He’s doing well, thank you. It helps that he has a hard head!
First of all, I am also glad to hear your husband is ok. Thank you for sharing this. I also have two little girls and I will think back on your calm if I ever need to.
I’ll vote for you never needing to call on these skills!
Oh man that is scary! I’m glad it wasn’t worse.
Amen!
Well done Mom!
Thank you!
This is so terrifying. Especially when you are trying not to freak the kids out. And the blood from head wounds, endless. Glad he is OK now!
No one puts The Reedster in the spam folder! I just found your comment. Confession: I took a photo of the blood on the stairs before I cleaned it up for two reasons. 1) in case I wrote this blog post and wanted to post it (once the adrenaline wore off, I rethought that bright idea) and 2) to remind myself of how bad it was once the adrenaline wore off and I started telling myself I was over-reacting. Thanks for commenting!
Oh my! I felt like I was right there with you. Great writing!
I’m so glad your husband is OK! Way to take control, mama! Again, Thank God all is well!
I’m happy to know my controlling nature comes in handy when needed! Thanks for your love!
Mary,
Thank god he is alright. Well done, Mary. Way to keep it together too. And way to clean! I would have been on the floor, hyperventilating after we got the husband off to the hospital.
Proud of you.
Kiran
Thank you so much, Kiran. I’m proud of me too though my cleaning spree did give me pause. As for hyperventilating, I did that after I knew he was going to be ok. Weird, huh? xo
O! M! G!
Good work staying calm…I probably would have fainted next to him……
Fainting – now that would make a great story (told from my daughters’ eyes)! Next time!
So glad to hear that Mike is doing well. I don’t know what I’d do in that situation. I’d like to say I’d handle it like you did, but I’m not so sure. Well done. . .
Thank you! Let’s hope you never have to find out …
That is so, so scary and I’m so sorry you guys had to go through that. Ugh. I’m in awe of your response. And of your children’s responses. I hope you all have a speedy recovery! (Also this was really well written – I feel weird even mentioning that given the gravity of the subject matter but I’m going for it anyway).
Trust me, I’ll take any props for my writing that you’re willing to give! I appreciate your feedback!
Oh, MY GOODNESS!!! I can not EVEN imagine! You did such a wonderful job maintaining calm and control in the situation, and your girls are very lucky to have a mom who was there to help EVERYONE at the exact same time. So happy to hear your husband is going to be okay! How scary!
You know I do feel good about how I showed up for Mike and the girls. The past several days have been harder for me to show up – we have big emotions swirling through this house! Thanks so much for visiting!
I’m an over-reactor. You did great. I guess you just have to do something. If you sit still, the bad thoughts and that awful panic thing catch you.
I kind of wish cleaning could keep the horrible panic away forever, but I had to stop sooner or later! Right?
Oh my goodness. How scary! I’m so glad he is okay!
Thank you!
Scary! So glad he’s OK and that you heard him at all. My husband is the one who hears noises at night and I sleep through everything. Hope everyone is doing OK in the aftermath.
One of the few advantages of being a light sleeper! I can’t imagine how horrible I’d feel if I hadn’t heard him right away. Scary!
You did great, mama! I adore your kids. Especially the wet paper towel.
Nicely told story and glad everyone’s okay.
In the moment I didn’t think the paper towel was cute, but I sure do now!
I’m glad it wasn’t any more serious. Whenever my mom is stressed out, she cleans closets. Me? I’m more keep a stiff upper lip type and then maybe if there’s time fall apart later.
I wonder how I’d look in a stiff upper lip?
Bravo to you for handling the crisis so well. I probably would have been screaming like a lunatic.Your girls are lucky to have such a strong, resourceful mama!
Oh, honey — how terrifying! And good job, mama, for keeping your cool with the kidlets around. Medical emegencies age us about a thousand years all at once, don’t they?
“Rhys returned with her offering of a single sheet of wet paper towel …” Beautiful visual and so innocent. You held it together like a champ. No wonder you are still crying. Something like that will take everything out of you. You need rest, if possible. So glad your husband is OK.