Gordon Lightfoot Forums - View Single Post

Sheryl · 12-02-2005, 02:47 AM

Two summers ago, I was walking my toddler down the outside stairs from the second story of our apartment. Holding his hand, I let him hold the handrail as I was showing him the "proper" and "safe" way to go down stairs. I'd just gotten new (prescription) sunglasses the day before and my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to them. Everything seemed closer than it was. Needless to say, about two steps down from the top, I miscalculated the next step and stepped off into air. I think it must have been God who had me let go of my son's hand (he was 3 1/2). My thoughts went like this: 1)This is what happened to Scarlett O'Hara and she lost her baby (I was six weeks' pregnant); 2)I'm going to break my neck and be paralyzed for the rest of my life, so I put my arms up straight on either side of my head, clasped my hands together tightly so my head/neck wouldn't break, and prayed: PLEASE GOD DON'T LET ME DIE -- I NEED TO BE THERE FOR MY KIDS. I went head first/face-side down bump-bump-bumping on my nose allllll the way down. And I was screaming. I heard a woman the next building over yell, "La Senora!" I kind of rolled off the steps at the bottom and sat up -- blood was pouring out of my nose. I looked up and saw my son still at the top of the stairs staring down at me. The gardener who had just been leaving came running back. I yelled, "SAVE MY SON!" He ran up and brought down my son. About a minute later, the paramedics arrived -- the woman next door must have called 9-1-1. As they entered the back yard, I noticed my dress was up and wrapped around my boobs -- how embarrassing!! I wiggled and pulled it down to thigh level, all while sitting on the ground still and trying to staunch the flow of blood from my nose. The cutest darned paramedics tended to me -- I said to one (after he started asking my name, etc.), "Do people tell you that you look like Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys?" He ignored that remark and kept on getting information from me. He probably thought I was in shock, LOL! Nope - just enjoying the view! I spent the ride in the ambulance to the E.R. trying to distract my son from being scared, telling him how fun it was to ride in an ambulance sitting next to a paramedic. He was so scared, poor thing. He'll be 6 next week and every now and then out of the blue, he'll say to me, "Mommy, do you remember when you fell down the stairs? I was so scared." Poor baby, he'll probably be scarred for the rest of his life from that! Here's the upshot: prayer works. I had NO bruises, NO broken nose, NO broken bones, just a sore arm and face for a few weeks. Yup, Borderstone, someone's *definitely* lookin' out for us all.

As a P.S. to this story, one month later, while pouring boiling water from a pot of pasta into the sink, it went into a bowl in the sink and sloshed right back onto me, burning my stomach through my shirt. I got 3rd degree burns. Lost the baby a few days later. But, I still considered myself lucky -- the burn marks have since almost disappeared and I have my three healthy, happy children. Blessed, indeed.

[ December 02, 2005, 02:07: Message edited by: Sheryl ]

12-02-2005, 02:47 AM	#17
Sheryl Senior Member Join Date: Oct 2004 Location: North Hollywood, CA USA Posts: 673	Two summers ago, I was walking my toddler down the outside stairs from the second story of our apartment. Holding his hand, I let him hold the handrail as I was showing him the "proper" and "safe" way to go down stairs. I'd just gotten new (prescription) sunglasses the day before and my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to them. Everything seemed closer than it was. Needless to say, about two steps down from the top, I miscalculated the next step and stepped off into air. I think it must have been God who had me let go of my son's hand (he was 3 1/2). My thoughts went like this: 1)This is what happened to Scarlett O'Hara and she lost her baby (I was six weeks' pregnant); 2)I'm going to break my neck and be paralyzed for the rest of my life, so I put my arms up straight on either side of my head, clasped my hands together tightly so my head/neck wouldn't break, and prayed: PLEASE GOD DON'T LET ME DIE -- I NEED TO BE THERE FOR MY KIDS. I went head first/face-side down bump-bump-bumping on my nose allllll the way down. And I was screaming. I heard a woman the next building over yell, "La Senora!" I kind of rolled off the steps at the bottom and sat up -- blood was pouring out of my nose. I looked up and saw my son still at the top of the stairs staring down at me. The gardener who had just been leaving came running back. I yelled, "SAVE MY SON!" He ran up and brought down my son. About a minute later, the paramedics arrived -- the woman next door must have called 9-1-1. As they entered the back yard, I noticed my dress was up and wrapped around my boobs -- how embarrassing!! I wiggled and pulled it down to thigh level, all while sitting on the ground still and trying to staunch the flow of blood from my nose. The cutest darned paramedics tended to me -- I said to one (after he started asking my name, etc.), "Do people tell you that you look like Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys?" He ignored that remark and kept on getting information from me. He probably thought I was in shock, LOL! Nope - just enjoying the view! I spent the ride in the ambulance to the E.R. trying to distract my son from being scared, telling him how fun it was to ride in an ambulance sitting next to a paramedic. He was so scared, poor thing. He'll be 6 next week and every now and then out of the blue, he'll say to me, "Mommy, do you remember when you fell down the stairs? I was so scared." Poor baby, he'll probably be scarred for the rest of his life from that! Here's the upshot: prayer works. I had NO bruises, NO broken nose, NO broken bones, just a sore arm and face for a few weeks. Yup, Borderstone, someone's definitely lookin' out for us all. As a P.S. to this story, one month later, while pouring boiling water from a pot of pasta into the sink, it went into a bowl in the sink and sloshed right back onto me, burning my stomach through my shirt. I got 3rd degree burns. Lost the baby a few days later. But, I still considered myself lucky -- the burn marks have since almost disappeared and I have my three healthy, happy children. Blessed, indeed. [ December 02, 2005, 02:07: Message edited by: Sheryl ]