What's that sound?

I am old and all alone.  I have no family.  I never married, I have no children.  There is no one.  I live alone.  I live on the second floor.  It is a lovely place…I am comfortable and I have a sunny balcony where I keep my beloved plants.  There is also a window outside my door, in the shared courtyard, where I also have a few plants.

It is getting harder, though, to get up the stairs to my home.  It is a long stairway.  I go up one at a time, like a child.  I bring my groceries up.  I bring the garbage down.  It is getting difficult.  I am all alone.

The apartment next to me is empty except on major holidays.  They come to see their family and stay for a week, or maybe two.  Then they disappear again.

Downstairs there is no one.  I hear people come and go and I don’t really know what is going on, but no one lives there.  I am alone.

I fell a few months ago, outside, in the street.  It was cold and snowy.  I fell and broke my wrist.  I messed up my face quite a bit too.  I was in the hospital.  When I finally returned home, I had help.  People in healthcare would come to check on me and I had some physical therapy for my broken wrist.

Today was Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter.  I was just taking the garbage out.  Coming down the stairs.  I am not sure what happened.  I slipped.  On the very last stair.  And then I was on the floor.  It was very cold.  And dark.  The courtyard light is on a timer and goes off too quickly.  I was on the ground, cold and dark…and alone.  There is no one here.  I am alone.

                                                                            ****

She was not alone.  Thank goodness.  We moved in, downstairs, five months ago.  BUT, if we had not been here, she would have lain upon that icy cold ceramic tile floor for more than an hour until the sometimes upstairs people arrived for Easter holiday.  But we were here and we heard a strange sound.   We were just about to settle in, on a rather chilly and rainy Sunday afternoon, to watch a movie.  But….that sound….what was that?  You had better go check……..!!!!!!!

She was on the floor…a slipper had flown off her foot, there were blood spatters on the tiles…we just had gotten a bench for outside our door….so my husband helped her to her feet and gently placed her on the bench.  I got her some water and tissues, he got cotton pads and peroxide, and Harry gave her some sweet licks.

I don’t know how old she is, but she must be in her 70s if not close to 80 and she is very tiny.  Almost like a miniature person.  She should not have been in backless slippers.  That was not a wise decision.  She was trembling.  Her left hand and wrist were swelling.  We got ice and put it in a plastic bag and I wrapped the bag around her wrist, gently, with an Ace bandage.  We gave her two aspirin, with her consent.  

As she sat, as I tried to communicate in my poor Italian, I was not getting a clear picture as to how she felt.   I think she was afraid….I know she was a bit in shock.  The severe trembling worried me.  The swelling and redness (so soon) worried me and then I started noticing a large lump on her forehead that was getting larger by the moment.  And turning bluish.  I know it is good to have a lump….rather than having internal bleeding or swelling, but it was still alarming. 

Is there someone I can call?  No, I am alone.

No one?  No one.

Do you want to go to the hospital?  We don’t have a car……

She smiles. I don’t know what that means. 

After about fifteen minutes, the head lump is looking really ugly and she is still trembling very badly.  She needs to go to the hospital.  I ask her again about anyone and she says the lady across the street is her friend.  Fine. Done.

I put my shoes on and out into the chilly rain I go, across the street – the house looks dark, but I will try anyway.   Now I’m the one afraid I will fall because there are three steep steps up to the door and they are wet and slippery and there is no bannister.   Ring.  Ring. Ring.   Yep, the house is empty, no one is home.  What now?

The man who is a woodworker and helped the night my husband arrived with his luggage – he is next to this house…..also dark, but I try anyway.  No one home.

There is a lawyer couple across the way….they are on the third floor.  My next stop.  Ring.  Ring.  A voice from a window three stories up.   “Chi e la?”

Of course, the natural human reaction overtakes me – I am now in panic mode…..all coherent Italian promptly leaves my brain.  Ciao!!    I blurt words….the woman…my neighbor…fell…stairs…she is hurt…”Non capito”..I don’t understand.”…..omigod.   BLOOD!  The Stairs!   Finally…”Dove?” (Where?)….IN OUR COURTYARD!   Oh, oh….I understand…….

Geez….I think sometimes people, in general, hear an unfamiliar accent and tune out…..she didn’t understand me……why?  I said the right words!

Anyway, after knowing SOMEONE  with a car was coming to help, we headed back to the house and a car was just pulling in…another neighbor (she has an ancient Great Dane mix sweetheart of a dog) pulled up with her dog in the back.   When she got out of the car, I took the opportunity to say, “Signore, per favore”….she knows a bit of English, but it didn’t matter, SHE understood my Italian…and she came right in and took control.  She went upstairs, into the neighbor’s apartment and got her coat, her handbag and keys and checked the place and turned everything off…..finally the lawyer lady arrived…dressed to the nines….pumps, fancy coat, makeup……Oh!  Someone else is here!   I heard the Dane gal explain that she drove up and saw us standing in the pouring rain…..

Together they got our neighbor into a car…the Dane car….Great Dane included, by the way……and that lady got her to the hospital.

I thanked them both.  The Dane lady said, “Non, grazie a voi”..No, thank YOU.

The lawyer lady brushed us off, but politely….I said I was sorry for bothering her.

Our neighbor is spending the night in the hospital and she DOES have a broken wrist…yet again.

There is an emergency number to call, but we don’t know it. We think of asking and then conversations take other directions and we forget. 

Much like other places, it was probably faster to get her to the hospital by car rather than waiting for emergency services, but we really need to know the number.  We also need the number of the people across the street since they are the only people this lady has.  It was a lesson.  This was a lesson.  Things can happen and you don’t have warning and you need to be prepared.

Since she fell in December I have been afraid of something like this.  If she had tumbled from the top of the stairs she could have died.  It also makes me wonder if we should consider getting a small car sooner rather than later. 

We should have known what to do.  We should have been better prepared.