My mom split her face open yesterday morning while she was running. She tripped, fell and landed on a grate in the East River park. If you can’t stand reading about gore, turn your head away. She WALKED all the way home, covered in blood, and saw me while I was out walking Earnest. When we were in the elevator she moved her hand away from her face, and all the skin from the underside of her nose was hanging on by a thread. She said “I think I just cut my lip.” I was all “like hell you did.” Then we went to the emergency room. She has like 5,000 stitches in her face now. She looks like she was in a knife fight. Don’t worry, I took photos before the surgeon put it back together. It was awesome and by awesome I mean bloody and fascinating because I could see the cartilage of her nose. And also, Brother, if you’re reading, sorry we didn’t tell you.
The emergency room was despicable. The volunteer who kept wandering through was also despicable. She kept staring at my mom every time she walked by. I wanted to jump on her and wrestle her to the floor. “SHE FELL ON HER FACE, YOU IMBECILE! GET US A FRIGGIN PLASTIC SURGEON AND YOU CAN STOP STARING! JESUS F*CKING CHRIST.”
Anyway, Mom is doing awesomely. I am trying to take credit for being the best nurse there ever was, which seems easy in theory, but not when you are just a plebeian given the task of caring for a nurse with her PhD and is also the person who raised two children not to be pansies.
We drove to Connecticut this morning so she could get out of the city and rest up. Someone was tailgating me on 84. I held my hand up right beneath the rearview mirror and gave them the finger. I can only assume they saw, but man, that felt good.