MY V.I.P. FILE

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Monday, September 5, 2011

#207 - A TAYLORed POISONING

Lying on the floor of the small, cold, room, she was sure that she was about to draw her last breath.  How could her life have come down to this?  Just yesterday she was happily going about her daily routine unaware of the impending attempt on her life.  Wracked with pain she raised her head to peer into the darkened room beyond the door.  Can she drag her weak body to the phone?  Can she get help?  Or, has the poison advanced too far into her system to allow her to move.                     


Again and again the spasms came.  She wretched for what seemed like an eternity and then her bowels began to empty.  How could Marie have done this to her?  It must have been some kind of bizarre accident.   She passed out for a while only to be awakened by the howl of her faithful dog in the next room.  He knew she was in trouble, but he could not extricate himself from his night-time crate. 

Knowing it would soon be too late, she managed to slowly inch herself across the floor.  With her last bit of energy she pulled herself up to the counter and called for help.  Help arrived within a few minutes and she was whisked off to the hospital where it was confirmed that she had been poisoned.   Poisoned by Marie Callendar with one of her famous Café Steamers.

Ok, so I'm NOT a novel worthy writer, but that was the situation I found myself in at one AM on Tuesday, July 11.   I finally made it to the ER room around six AM.  It was a tad more fun than the gastronomical events occurring on the bathroom floor.   There was nothing left to pump from my stomach as I had purged everything but my appendix and the three toenails that had yet to be sucked from my feet.  So they hooked me up with fluids to rehydrate me (since I was starting to look like a Tim Burton character from one of his  bizarre films).

By that afternoon I was back home and laying in my recliner, sipping 7Up.
I felt awful, but I was on the mend.  At seven PM I started to get up to fix my father his dinner. That is when the REST OF THE STORY developed.

I couldn’t get out of my recliner!  I mean, no matter what I did I could not pull my behind up out of the chair.  I have never experienced anything like this before.  First, I started a bouncy-bouncy routine hoping that one of the bounces would get me high enough to get my feet under me.  Nope!  Didn’t work.  Next, I started a rocking motion to try and propel my body out of the chair… … No luck there either (however, I almost turned the chair over backwards).  After trying several other ideas I finally got myself turned around backwards in the chair and pushed away with my arms.  To my relief that worked and I was up on my sock covered feet (key phrase).

Slowly, I walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and extracted what I would need for Dad’s meal.  You know the phrase weak as a kitten; well I understand that phrase now.  Like a sloth moving through the forest I made my way to across the kitchen floor when (not so sloth like) one foot slid one way, and one foot slid the other.  Onto a step stool I fell.  I was in a semi splits pose (down on my left knee and up on my right heel)  and clinging for dear life onto that darned step stool.  No matter how hard I tried I could not push myself up off of the step stool.  The only thing I could do was to allow myself to fall to the side.  As I leaned away from the small ladder I remember saying aloud,, “Oh, Mannnnn, this is going to hurt!”  And it did!

This put me on the floor and then that damned darned (oh, to hell with it) damned TV add flashed through my brain,  I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.   I started to laugh (yes, really).  I lay there laughing when my dad clomped (no, he doesn't let his walker roll smoothly he goes step- step-step and then picks it up and plants it further away = he clomps) into the kitchen to see what was going on. 

“Can I help you up?” he said.   This made me laugh all the more.  I could just see the both of us lying on the floor until the cows came home.

“No, Dad, just get me a phone,” I replied.  To this Dad clomped off in search of a phone.  Now, understand this, I have a phone in EVERY room, but Dad couldn’t find one (you see he is hard of hearing and hasn’t used a phone since the old cradle type).

In Dad clomps again.  “I can’t find a phone.”

“It’s by the microwave,” I croak.

“Where’s the microwave?”  he asks (while standing about one foot from it).

I tell him to go sit down in his chair and then I started to crawl through the kitchen floor. 
Actually, it wasn’t a crawl it was more like a scoot and I could only manage a few inches at a time.  While communing so closely with the floor I noticed that it needed a good scrubbing and I started laughing again (I mean what a time to start thinking about scrubbing the floor).  It took me forty-five minutes to make my way across the floor to where I could see the table, and there I spotted a phone.

I hollered (screamed really loud) for Dad and he eventually retrieved the phone from the table for me.  I called 911, then told Dad to unlock the front door.  I laid there on my not so clean kitchen floor waiting for my total humiliation to begin.

(FIRST, LET ME APOLOGUISE FOR A WORD USED IN THE 
SECOND SCENE OF THIS VIDEO):








In just a few minutes two police officers walk through the front door and into the kitchen.  Remembering the routine my dad had to go through when we called for someone to help him off the bathroom floor; I rattled off my name, where I was, what day and month it was, and what happened.  They smiled, looked at each other, and the male said, “I see you do this often.”  They helped me up and planted me in Dad’s wheel chair (at my request).  They then suggested I get one of those little buttons that would summon help if this ever happened again (why would I do that when it is obviously much more fun!)

I wheeled around the kitchen, got Dad’s dinner (2 hours late), and stayed in that darned wheel chair until bedtime.  Since it would not go through my bedroom door I got out, and walked (thinking that I had a nice, clean, well padded rug on my floor and I could sleep there if I fell again.)  while holding onto everything possible.   I eventually made it to my bed, and collapsed.  Suddenly it hit me, "Hey, they send an ambulance when Dad falls, but they send cops when I fall!  What's up with that?"  Then I started laughing again. 

The following morning the weakness was gone.  I found out later that this is one of the side effects of food poisoning.  Much to my chigrin, I have 6 more of these dinners in my freezer.  Well, what's the chance that this could happen again?  I'm so cheap that I guess I will find out........ someday.

kt 7/2011


NEXT MONDAY, I ACCEPT AN INTERESTING AWARD.  
AS PROMISED, I FAILED TO FOLLOW THE RULES (AGAIN).  
SO, BE THERE OR BE SQUARE (Oh, that is soooooooo lame). 






20 comments:

  1. Karen, you have given me belly ache from laughing at this scenario, yet it was absolutely not funny at all, really! I mean, how dreadful for you to have been so incapacitated and with no one able to assist, on hand. To me, this is honestly one of the most frightening aspects of aging, not being able to help oneself and having no one close by to help. Hence, this was not a laughing matter at all, but you have the uncanny ability to turn every catastrophe and unpleasant situation into a cause for high jinx! What a comedian you are, what a breath of pure, fresh air, what a gift to the world! You and Melynda are truly cut from the same gold cloth! I feel so lucky to have got to know you both through your blogs! I want to rush right over and give you a gigantic hug, then force you on to your most comfortable chair and make you tea and a nice, healthy meal that will not poison you! Please return those meals to the store where you bought them and get a full refund. Also, refer the manufacturer to this blog post! If they don't rush round bearing gifts and apologies, get everybody you know to tweet about this post!

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  2. What a welcome back story and I am almost on my back laughing - gosh, you sound a lot like me and my adventures. Why not laugh about these situations and have a good giggle - you are one funny lady and fast becoming my FAV post reading. I think we would make one hell of a good team as comics. I am often told I cannot go out the door without encountering some sort of adventure? I prefer to call them adventures. ha,ha Anyway KT thanks for the morning laugh, even though you were probably in dire dizziness and you turned it all around into a great post for your readers.
    Take care and have a great day :)
    p.s. you did get rid of the other dinners, right!

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  3. I really do not like to laugh at people in a sad situation but I could not help myself...thank you!

    Hope you are doing much better.

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  4. I know it's serious stuff, but you made me laugh all the way through this story ;D

    I'm glad you're ok now :)

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  5. I'm so glad you're okay. That must have been scary.

    I LOVE your sense of humor. Even when something scary is going on, you still laugh and make your readers laugh too :0)

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  6. It's good you can look back with humor at times like this. Having had a couple of food poisonings over the years, they are not fun at the time. Don't think I will ever look at a Marie Callendar dinner again without thinking of this excellent post! (PS I'm doing ok, thanks :)

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  7. Oh dear God I was laughing so hard my gut hurts. I think you missed the post I just wrote the other day about getting stuck in my car window.. I think it's called TV is banned at my house in the morning or something like that. It was a total klutz moment. Anyway glad to know I'm not the only one that should be wrapped in bubble wrap. Sorry you were sick and got hurt but since that is OUR way of doing things at least we get to laugh about it. Feel better soon and stay away from Marie. Btw that first parts was very well written. Could have been a book. Bravo my friend.

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  8. What a frightening day you went through--& yet you are able to put your followers into hysterics while reading about it! I want to know how long did the urge to scrub the floor last before it passed? You & Melynda have the ability to scare the s#*t out of me & still write the FUNNIEST posts!

    You are not supposed to be in a position to say "Someday we'll laugh about all this" on a daily basis!

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  9. I am cheap too, but I think I would draw the line here - Marie will probably give you your money back once she reads this blog anyway.

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  10. This is the last thing I should laugh at but I laughed! I'm sorry!

    I hope you are feeling better soon!

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  11. What a scary thing to go through! And yet you tell the story in a way that makes it both funny and full of tension. I'm glad there was a happy ending, and hope you'll toss those other dinners.

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  12. Oh, my gosh. That's freakin' hilarious. Not while you were going through it, I'm sure. So nice that you have a sense of humor about it now. If we can laugh at ourselves we'll always have humor in our lives.

    "damned darned (oh, to hell with it) damned" ROFL

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  13. You were so right - laughing is the only way to go through the chaos.
    You kill me!!!

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  14. Your comment on my window incident had me laughing so hard Phil came to check on me. haha Thanks for that laugh lady

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  15. Great job Mom. This is one of many true stories my mother has. Wait until you hear the Burrito story.

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  16. Pardon me for laughing at your misery Miss Karen; but at least you're OK now.

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  17. Oh my God, Karen!!! I could hardly imagine you laughing at that certain moment when you felt so helpless! What really cracked me up was when you thought of "scrubbing the floor!" And your conversation with your dad was soo freakin' hilarious!!! LOL

    I'm glad you're better now. Oh my goodness gracious! What a post, Karen!

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  18. So I have to tell you a funny.. You apparently sent Elisa an email meant for me. The one about Phil being her husband and in the contest.. I got such a chuckle out of it because we live in Utah and I told her that if she was into polygamy she'd have to go get another man because I don't share well.. lmao It was hysterical.

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  19. You poor dear. I can hardly read this because we got sick yesterday from buying groceries that were without power for 5 hours the previous day. Yikes.
    God Bless! Also, I think you should send me your email because my computer won't let me visit you anymore without a bunch of warnings about malware.
    Don't ask me what that is. (Hugs)

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  20. Only you can write about a terrible situation and make me laugh senseless. Glad you made it through it all okay. Good luck in your russian roulette with the other dinners.

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