Page 20 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch
“Have you tried to get up?”
“No, I’ve been enjoying my time on the floor. Of course, I’ve tried to get up. I’ve been trying for the last half an hour.”
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“Don’t be stupid. Just help me up.”
I bent down and slipped my hands under her arms to pick her up the way I would Emerald. She was saying, “Not like that. Stop—” Too late, I’d lifted her off the floor. She really was a lot more fragile than she looked. She screamed a little, but I got her to her feet.
“Chair… chair…”
I pulled out a dining chair and set her in it.
“Ah… ah… oh sweet Jesus…”
“I’ll get your coat and purse, and we can go after I check to see if the baby needs to be changed.”
“Go where?”
“To the emergency room,” I said, though it seemed obvious to me.
“No. Help me into my chair.” She meant the one in the living room, not the one she was sitting in.
“You might have broken your hip. We’re going to the ER.”
“Just get me to my chair and I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Get there yourself,” I said, to prove a point.
Pressing down on the table, she tried to lift herself out of the chair. She struggled mightily to not make a peep as she did. I gave Emerald the sniff test. She was fine for now. The diaper bag (vintage Winnie the Pooh from the ’60s and used for my mother and later me) sat near the front door; I was pretty sure it hadn’t been touched and had everything we’d need. My grandmother was still trying to get out of the chair. I went down the hall and took her coat off the coatrack and brought it back to her.
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll warm up the car. If you’re not in the living room by the time I come back we’re going.”
I walked out the back door, wondering if I should just call an ambulance. I could get her to the hospital if she cooperated, but it didn’t seem like she was going to do that. And it would be nice if she was someone else’s problem, if only for the time it took to get to the hospital.
Riley followed me out the back door. He’d like to go to the hospital. He’d like to go anywhere. I started the car and then threw down some more rock salt onto the back steps. Back inside, Nana Cole was exactly where she’d been when I walked outside. I braced myself for more negativity, but then she said, “I couldn’t get the coat on.”
I’d won. Not as satisfying as winning the lottery but still a victory. I had to take what I could get. I grabbed her coat, which was possibly older than I was. Then lifted her off the chair again.
“Okay, you’re going to need to hold onto me. Grab my sweater.” I thought that was magnanimous since she’d likely stretch it out. And I really did love that sweater. Seriously. It was lime, for god’s sake.
Anyway, while she was clinging to me, I put the coat behind her then had her slip her arms in one at a time. Then, without asking, since I knew that would be a bad idea, I bent downand picked her up in a fireman’s carry. I learned that watchingBaywatch.I knew there was a reason to watch that show other than guys in bathing suits—though the male to female ratio on the show was not at all... Okay, fine, we’ll talk about that later.
“Put me down! Put me down now!”
I ignored her. Putting her down only meant we’d be stuck wherever I put her down. Still, she kept demanding to be put down until I got to the SUV, opened passenger door, and plunked her onto the seat. Not too gently.
“FUCK!” she roared.
Hmmm, this might be bad.I mean, I’d never heard her swear like that. I ran back to house, collected the baby in her car seat, the diaper bag, forced Riley into the house against his will, and then went back to the Escalade. Once I got Emerald strapped in, we were off.
At the entrance to the ER at the recently renamed HealthWeb Hospital (formerly Midland Hospital, formerly Morley Medical Center, formerly St. Anne’s), I jumped out of the car, grabbed the baby and hurried in. I told the receptionist, “My grandmother is in the car, she’s taken a bad fall and is in a lot of pain. I need help getting her inside.”
It seemed like forever, but was probably a whole two minutes, before an orderly, dressed entirely in scrubs, came out with a wheelchair.
“Your grandmother can sit, right? She’s not lying in the back seat, is she?”
