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Together Again - Buildup to a disaster
- Thread starter longbow
- Start date
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Love the story. But what is "TVP"?
I'm gettin' weaky and shaky and breakin' out in cold sweats already. . . . and I gotta hold out until the weekend??????
No worries, Bow. Do what you have to do. I can wait. It sucks but you need to do what you need to do.
Merry Christmas to you and your family. God Bless.
Merry Christmas to you and your family. God Bless.
Saturday, like what time Saturday? ... Saturday morning? Saturday evening? Brunch? Tea time? Sorry its just I'll b just sitting in the PD...waiting ..... and waiting... but if I knew wat time to expect something ... I might actually be a semi productive person. Not a jonesing idiot.
96firephoenix
Master
Copyright, Longbow Entertainment a Division of Upland Hills
“Hold his head”, screamed Cassie as she yelled to Craig. He was just 10 feet away as he saw the entire accident happen. Craig was just walking out of the loft and was giving aid about 2 seconds after he hit the wood floor.
“The dog just puked up something about 10 seconds before he stepped into it. Geesh that smells like death, no wonder the dog puked it up” grumbled Craig.
Three more were rushing up the steps soon after they heard the smack on the floor upstairs and knew something bad had happened. The situation was not helped with the soft amber glow of the candles and the firelight from the family room. Those three told the others what was happening and stopped the bum rush to see. Two of the kids ran to get the large first aid kit from the mud room was brought up.
“Thank God he’s breathing and get that neck collar on him” commanded Carrie. It took about 45 seconds to rip open the neck collar bag and get the two parts on his neck. When that was done, Craig showed her his hands, and the fingers were covered with blood. Carrie said “that doesn’t surprise me, he had his legs go out from under him and flopped flat on the floor. I’m not stitching him up on the back of his head until I know he hasn’t mashed his brains or broke his neck.”
Pushing “gently’ on his sternum with increasing pressure was all it took to wake him up. “That hurts! I was dreaming I was playing basketball , and just made a full court 3 pointer” Honey you fell and knocked yourself out for about 4 minutes, said Carrie in a calming voice.
“Ouch, cut it out and stop pinching me” he said to the three adults would were using the shadows to hide in as they check to see if he could feel his hands, feet and legs. “Please tell me I did not crap in my pants when I passed out.”
Craig laughed, “You slipped on fresh dog vomit and the culprit is hiding in the bathroom with his tail between his legs and is afraid to come out. The vomit is the bad smell.”
“We will clean you up and get rid of the puke, but you are going to lay there for at least 5 maybe 10 more minutes before we move you. I want to check you out now that you are awake to make sure some new injury doesn’t sneak up and trick us. It’s better to find it when you are lying down than when you are standing up. Everything points to you smacking your head and from what I saw; your entire body hit the floor at about the same time. I just want to be careful that your neck is not broken,” said Carrie in a protective way.
“OK, the back of my head is pounding and feels wet.”
“You most likely busted open the back of your little head when you bounced on the floor. You were so focused on your wife’s smile you didn’t notice the foot wide puddle of puke right in front of you!” teased Craig.
“I remember what I was thinking about, and was about to”. Carrie cut him off and realized he is going to be ok!
After 10 minutes passed, several adults picked him up, removed his smelly sweat pants and had him sit up in a chair to inspect the cut on the back of his head.
Carrie and John cut away the hair from the gash on the back of his head, cleaned up the wound and used an insulin syringe to inject a local pain killer before stitching him up. They debated which type of knots to use and after 10 minutes they were done.
“It won’t win any awards, but 4 internal and 8 external stitches and you are good to go” boasted Carrie.
“Feels good to me, but why didn’t you use the surgical staple gun? I’ve got 6 of them and they are in the red pouch with the tag that says staple gun? You could have been done a long time already.”
“Hold his head”, screamed Cassie as she yelled to Craig. He was just 10 feet away as he saw the entire accident happen. Craig was just walking out of the loft and was giving aid about 2 seconds after he hit the wood floor.
“The dog just puked up something about 10 seconds before he stepped into it. Geesh that smells like death, no wonder the dog puked it up” grumbled Craig.
Three more were rushing up the steps soon after they heard the smack on the floor upstairs and knew something bad had happened. The situation was not helped with the soft amber glow of the candles and the firelight from the family room. Those three told the others what was happening and stopped the bum rush to see. Two of the kids ran to get the large first aid kit from the mud room was brought up.
“Thank God he’s breathing and get that neck collar on him” commanded Carrie. It took about 45 seconds to rip open the neck collar bag and get the two parts on his neck. When that was done, Craig showed her his hands, and the fingers were covered with blood. Carrie said “that doesn’t surprise me, he had his legs go out from under him and flopped flat on the floor. I’m not stitching him up on the back of his head until I know he hasn’t mashed his brains or broke his neck.”
Pushing “gently’ on his sternum with increasing pressure was all it took to wake him up. “That hurts! I was dreaming I was playing basketball , and just made a full court 3 pointer” Honey you fell and knocked yourself out for about 4 minutes, said Carrie in a calming voice.
“Ouch, cut it out and stop pinching me” he said to the three adults would were using the shadows to hide in as they check to see if he could feel his hands, feet and legs. “Please tell me I did not crap in my pants when I passed out.”
Craig laughed, “You slipped on fresh dog vomit and the culprit is hiding in the bathroom with his tail between his legs and is afraid to come out. The vomit is the bad smell.”
“We will clean you up and get rid of the puke, but you are going to lay there for at least 5 maybe 10 more minutes before we move you. I want to check you out now that you are awake to make sure some new injury doesn’t sneak up and trick us. It’s better to find it when you are lying down than when you are standing up. Everything points to you smacking your head and from what I saw; your entire body hit the floor at about the same time. I just want to be careful that your neck is not broken,” said Carrie in a protective way.
“OK, the back of my head is pounding and feels wet.”
“You most likely busted open the back of your little head when you bounced on the floor. You were so focused on your wife’s smile you didn’t notice the foot wide puddle of puke right in front of you!” teased Craig.
“I remember what I was thinking about, and was about to”. Carrie cut him off and realized he is going to be ok!
After 10 minutes passed, several adults picked him up, removed his smelly sweat pants and had him sit up in a chair to inspect the cut on the back of his head.
Carrie and John cut away the hair from the gash on the back of his head, cleaned up the wound and used an insulin syringe to inject a local pain killer before stitching him up. They debated which type of knots to use and after 10 minutes they were done.
“It won’t win any awards, but 4 internal and 8 external stitches and you are good to go” boasted Carrie.
“Feels good to me, but why didn’t you use the surgical staple gun? I’ve got 6 of them and they are in the red pouch with the tag that says staple gun? You could have been done a long time already.”
I try to exceed your expectations..........................
Copyright, Longbow Entertainment a Division of Upland Hills
Reading about post-concussion syndrome made my sore head hurt more, I thought to myself. Lights, noise, rapid movement or just moving my head makes me want to lay still. Laying in my bedroom with the door closed and no lights is the only way to keep the pain down. The effects could last 4 months and I can’t do this for that long. I’m needed, and need to force myself out of this room.
Yesterday, some of the kids called me a cranky old man when I tried to help in the kitchen. My wife says I need to shave and comb my hair. In two more days, they are going to remove the stitches and then it will be time for me to wash my hair and clean myself up. For fun, I’ve been picking dried blood from my hair and I’m amazed how much is caked on the back and side of my head.
I need my old routine back.
“We have 5 gallons of hot water to put in the tub,” said Janet as she poured the first one into the tub. Three more people brought in water to add to the five gallons of unheated water.
Carrie had me lying face down on the bed as she was cutting away some clumps of hair before she started to remove the stitches. “Honey, I’m no plastic surgeon, but it healed up. I can tell you if you ever go bald, you are going to have a nasty scar to talk about. The last stitch I removed was a little pusy, but I don’t think it is anything. No redness and it is not tender. Before your bath, I’m going to comb out the last of the blood clumps in your hair”
About a dozen tugs at my hair later I was cleared for the bath. The hot water felt good and helped me come back to the normal world.
An hour later I dried off, and my wife said I cleaned up good! I wore something other than a robe and got ready for the meeting.
In the darkened loft, we had a meeting to talk about what has happened in the last 8 days of me hiding in the bedroom. The talk lasted two hours, but could have summed up with “nothing; and we ate, drank, and slept”. That quick summary would have helped my head, but it was good to get back into the groove. Since the daylight bothered me, I volunteer for a night shift in the front OP. Everyone did their best to keep the noise down at dinner, and the kindness was a little too much.
For the next two weeks, I slept days, worked two different night shifts in the OP’s and my head was doing better. Even the dog was nice to me.
The cold was easier to deal with and it started to feel like a normal winter for our area. Everyone freaked out when an icicle showed up on the gutter. That was the first time anyone noticed any melting snow.
More outdoor time helped keep everyone from going insane from the long winter, and sledding pasted the time. The light is getting brighter each day, and last night I noticed I could see Venus through the haze.
Everyone continues to work on the journals and I catch people reading each other’s work now and then. To be honest, our stories overlap, and the running joke is we only need to have a group journal.
Before the world froze, several of us liked the Pickers show on TV. Groups of three have been heading out to make contact with all the homes within a few miles of our place, and our southern neighbors We have our doubts on finding anyone alive, but who knows! Looking can’t hurt, and we might find some items we need.
The first day of the trip was not productive. Salvage items have been light. Any canned or bottled food items exploded from the deep freeze. Most of the picking is more like taking inventory of items that we might need. The agreement is that if any guns, ammo or batteries are found, they should attempt to bring them back. No one wants any of the guns to be used against us, and they might be worth more than gold when the weather warms up.
At the end of the day, foot prints going towards the town were spotted about three miles east. It was a group of three people pulling a sled of some type. Smoke was also spotted coming from behind one of the hills about a mile or so away from the last picking trip. If the weather holds, in the morning we are going to send a larger group out to see if we can help, or just say hello.
The ash that has been saved from the fires has a new use. The homemade soap is not that bad, and we are still working out how to make it. Most of the ash is being spread on the freeze dried human waste. Our quick fix, might turn into a mess that could impact our health when it warms up! The ugly backhoe is the best choice for covering up the crap, but we have to wait until the dirt thaws. A list of “spring” cleaning is being worked on, and it is staggering on what needs to be done.
For the second day in a row, deer and raccoon tracks have been seen in the snow. I’ve even heard a tree rat barking in the woods. Everyone thought for a fact most of the animals would have frozen to death.
Janet is the official recorder of health information and she posted the chart on how all of us are doing. Everyone except the kids has lost between 20 and 50 pounds since the start of this disaster. No one is malnourished; however, most of us are on the low end of what our weight should be. Not one of us has high blood pressure and to be honest, we are all in the best shape that we can remember. She is now going to track our weights weekly, just to make sure we are eating enough.
The day ended with a discussion on when we are going to bury Mailman Mike’s family.
Reading about post-concussion syndrome made my sore head hurt more, I thought to myself. Lights, noise, rapid movement or just moving my head makes me want to lay still. Laying in my bedroom with the door closed and no lights is the only way to keep the pain down. The effects could last 4 months and I can’t do this for that long. I’m needed, and need to force myself out of this room.
Yesterday, some of the kids called me a cranky old man when I tried to help in the kitchen. My wife says I need to shave and comb my hair. In two more days, they are going to remove the stitches and then it will be time for me to wash my hair and clean myself up. For fun, I’ve been picking dried blood from my hair and I’m amazed how much is caked on the back and side of my head.
I need my old routine back.
“We have 5 gallons of hot water to put in the tub,” said Janet as she poured the first one into the tub. Three more people brought in water to add to the five gallons of unheated water.
Carrie had me lying face down on the bed as she was cutting away some clumps of hair before she started to remove the stitches. “Honey, I’m no plastic surgeon, but it healed up. I can tell you if you ever go bald, you are going to have a nasty scar to talk about. The last stitch I removed was a little pusy, but I don’t think it is anything. No redness and it is not tender. Before your bath, I’m going to comb out the last of the blood clumps in your hair”
About a dozen tugs at my hair later I was cleared for the bath. The hot water felt good and helped me come back to the normal world.
An hour later I dried off, and my wife said I cleaned up good! I wore something other than a robe and got ready for the meeting.
In the darkened loft, we had a meeting to talk about what has happened in the last 8 days of me hiding in the bedroom. The talk lasted two hours, but could have summed up with “nothing; and we ate, drank, and slept”. That quick summary would have helped my head, but it was good to get back into the groove. Since the daylight bothered me, I volunteer for a night shift in the front OP. Everyone did their best to keep the noise down at dinner, and the kindness was a little too much.
For the next two weeks, I slept days, worked two different night shifts in the OP’s and my head was doing better. Even the dog was nice to me.
The cold was easier to deal with and it started to feel like a normal winter for our area. Everyone freaked out when an icicle showed up on the gutter. That was the first time anyone noticed any melting snow.
More outdoor time helped keep everyone from going insane from the long winter, and sledding pasted the time. The light is getting brighter each day, and last night I noticed I could see Venus through the haze.
Everyone continues to work on the journals and I catch people reading each other’s work now and then. To be honest, our stories overlap, and the running joke is we only need to have a group journal.
Before the world froze, several of us liked the Pickers show on TV. Groups of three have been heading out to make contact with all the homes within a few miles of our place, and our southern neighbors We have our doubts on finding anyone alive, but who knows! Looking can’t hurt, and we might find some items we need.
The first day of the trip was not productive. Salvage items have been light. Any canned or bottled food items exploded from the deep freeze. Most of the picking is more like taking inventory of items that we might need. The agreement is that if any guns, ammo or batteries are found, they should attempt to bring them back. No one wants any of the guns to be used against us, and they might be worth more than gold when the weather warms up.
At the end of the day, foot prints going towards the town were spotted about three miles east. It was a group of three people pulling a sled of some type. Smoke was also spotted coming from behind one of the hills about a mile or so away from the last picking trip. If the weather holds, in the morning we are going to send a larger group out to see if we can help, or just say hello.
The ash that has been saved from the fires has a new use. The homemade soap is not that bad, and we are still working out how to make it. Most of the ash is being spread on the freeze dried human waste. Our quick fix, might turn into a mess that could impact our health when it warms up! The ugly backhoe is the best choice for covering up the crap, but we have to wait until the dirt thaws. A list of “spring” cleaning is being worked on, and it is staggering on what needs to be done.
For the second day in a row, deer and raccoon tracks have been seen in the snow. I’ve even heard a tree rat barking in the woods. Everyone thought for a fact most of the animals would have frozen to death.
Janet is the official recorder of health information and she posted the chart on how all of us are doing. Everyone except the kids has lost between 20 and 50 pounds since the start of this disaster. No one is malnourished; however, most of us are on the low end of what our weight should be. Not one of us has high blood pressure and to be honest, we are all in the best shape that we can remember. She is now going to track our weights weekly, just to make sure we are eating enough.
The day ended with a discussion on when we are going to bury Mailman Mike’s family.
Merry Christmas, longbow!
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