All is well in my world

It was a good day of enjoying the Croakers Festival here in Oriental. I'm not sure what a “Croaker” is, but there was free music from a small local orchestra and choir in the afternoon. The concert featured much Fourth of July type music in a performance far exceeding what might be expected from an amateur group assembled from the residents of a small town. It was nothing short of a delightful surprise. Later that evening a more traditional band called the Southern Hellcats (Who hailed from Canada?) took the stage. They played old style rock n' roll, blues, and some original tunes with practiced professionalism and skill. I do loves me some live music. 

With the sun long set and a near full moon reflecting off the Neuse Deb, Grandson Eldest, and I headed back to the boat reviewing plans for heading north in the next few days. The last of the major projects, wiring in a charging port for our new cooler located on the aft deck, had been finished before heading off to the Festival. My six week sabbatical resulting from flirting with the grim reaper was about up. As much as we love Oriental it is time to get a move on. Pump out, fuel, water, and a night or two spent anchored nearby to run a complete systems check before abandoning the support of the dock and marine oriented Oriental were being discussed as we walked the familiar path along the boardwalk and back to First Light.

Unknown to us and invisible in the dim light, one of those boards had broken free at one end and was warped up several inches above the deck. It caught Deb in mid stride and mid sentence, sending her into a twisting fall where she stumbled off the nearby curb and ended with a heavy, face down, impact on the concrete parking lot. I knew she was hurt even as she went down. She was silent at first, not moving much, but breathing and with no readily apparent injury. But I had heard something snap as she landed, which turned out to be a bone in her right wrist. Very slowly we got her up sitting on the side of the curb, me holding the obviously broken wrist to keep it immobile. I have a lot of experience with broken bones, mostly my own, and know the drill. Blood at the sight convinced me it was a compound fracture, something not to be mishandled by an amateur. Friends, also out on their evening strolls, started to gather. Deb was dazed and in a lot of pain. A second call to 911 in the last five weeks was made. The ambulance seemed to take forever to arrive which was, of course, not true. A splint and some bandages later she was loaded into the back and they departed. Our good friend and Dock Master tossed me the fob to her car with barely a word. Grandson Eldest and I got going, following the ambulance to the same ER that had, so recently, saved my life.

Within minutes of arriving,Deb was settled into a room with an x-ray machine being rolled to her bedside. The images showed that the blood at the break sight was from abrasions, not protruding bones as I had feared. By 0300 in the morning (in my experience blazingly fast by hospital standards) she had been sedated, a closed reduction procedure had been performed on the broken bones, more x-rays were taken, her wrist had been secured in a more elaborate splint, we had reviewed the Follow-Up instructions with the medical staff, and were sent on our way back to the boat. By 0400 she was settled in the V-berth and, with the help of some pain meds, sleeping.

My experience with broken bones had me wondering why not a cast. But nowadays they use a splint first in order to give the swelling a chance to fade. An appointment with an Orthopedic Surgeon will be made as soon as the holiday weekend will allow. At that point we should learn what comes next. Plates and screws? Maybe a pin? Perhaps a simple cast will do after all. But until we know all other plans have been laid aside without bothering with disappointment or other “what-ifs”. Life unfolds as it will. The people here in Oriental have, once again, stepped up and put a dent in my generally  pessimistic view of our human family. This is still a beautiful place in which to recover. After a few hours of sleep Deb got up, settled into her chair on the back deck,  talked to family, reached out to friends, and rested looking out across the placid waters. A couple of hours later the night caught up with her and she went back to the berth. I am sitting in the salon, reviewing the night and coming to terms with another close call. She is not as injured as I had first feared as she fell, and that is the only thing that matters. All is well in my world.