I know you're all dying (or not) to hear "the rest of the story" following up on "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." Oh, and thanks for asking. My hugely blackened (or more like purpled) eye is almost back to normal. My eyebrow is still tender to the touch, as is the bump/crack on the bridge of my nose (which still shows a little bluish and yellow-green icky, icky yellow green, but the split on that bump has healed over.) The little "purple-now-red" spot under my right eye is still noticeable along with the much larger purple spot under my left eye. But, hey! I'm looking mostly back to normal now! Woohoo!
So, Friday, the day after Christmas, I woke and took a shower, gingerly shampooing my hair and cleansing my battered face. I felt so much better. Showers are great for that, aren't they? Then I looked closely into the bathroom mirror. Well, I do have to say that the purple/plum coloring on my upper eyelid was beautiful! I mean, it's a favorite color, all shiny and, okay, somewhat swollen, still. Trouble with bruising around one's eyes is this: gravity. You know that without doubt all the blood oozing above one's eye is gonna flow down. That's just the way it works. So this day, the swelling and coloring had moved south, too.
That afternoon, the fun began. Daughter's family had just signed the final papers the Friday prior on their first home. AND they had arranged with friends from Church to move on Saturday. Well, the weather forecast promised rugged conditions: sleet, freezing rain, wind, nasty, nasty stuff for Saturday. Not good. Particularly when moving furniture and boxes in a mostly open horse trailer in those conditions. So, at the last minute (nearly), arrangements were altered. Those good friends from Church--very new friends I might add--were troopers. They came in the evening to begin the process. And let me tell you, with the configuration of the stairs and the size of some of the furniture, I frankly don't know how they managed! (Sometime I may have to post about how I think architects need to help move people into houses and have to deal with the plumbing, and electrical repairs--the real practical application of house design--before they're allowed to draw up their first house plans. AND then, having to do the same after their house plans have been built. It could be a very long post.)
Grandma and Grandpa gathered up all their stuff, took it to the new home, and got out of the way. At supper time, they went to the local Pizza Hut and purchased large quantities of nourishment for the troops. Grandma was sorely tempted by the ensuing aroma wafting from the steaming cardboard boxes, but owing to the still rocky condition of her gastric column caved in only to a couple of bites of bread stick. But I have to tell you it was sooooooo tempting! The thought of pepperoni with mushroom pizza, hot and steamy, crunchy, chewy crust and all just within reach . . . But, Grandma counted the cost of the previous days events and held off! It was a monumental exercise in wisdom guided self-control.
Well, after the awesome friends and son-in-law struggled through a load of furniture transferring from rental house to home, they decided to call it a day and try again later. Grandpa wanted to help but had been dealing with some back issues for over a month, so he was not allowed to lift heavy objects. At all!
And then, that night, poor Grandpa got hit by the BUG. He did not pass out. Thank heaven!!! Grandma felt much better, though she still looked very much like she'd been run over by a reindeer driving a Mac truck. Owing to several factors of inconvenience, Grandma and Grandpa decided for the sake of everyone concerned, they'd get a room at a local motel pretty much around the corner from the new house and moved in Saturday morning, two days after Christmas.
Then the weather hit. Tornado WARNING SIRENS started to go off. And, due to the fact that the motel had TV service, we were able to keep abreast of the weather conditions, which we shared with our daughter. It was a little scary. The sky was indeed very black and threatening. The wind howling. The rain, sleet, hail came. But, alas! The Good Lord preserved us. We were very blessed to NOT have to endure a tornado. There were some that apparently hit areas very close to where we were. Later that day, the valiant friends came back to help with another load or two. Apparently, some of the boxes got a bit wet and unpacking/airing out became an immediate necessity.
When the conditions improved, I ventured out to purchase some essential nourishment. I contemplated the reactions I might get as I "went public" with my purple, swollen eye and nose. I didn't feel up to masking with makeup yet, since everything was still very painful to touch. But, mostly, all the flu symptoms for me had flown. Poor Grandpa, on the other hand, was suffering miserably.
Human nature is interesting. I made these observations at the grocery store where I purchased some nutritional essentials. Women would look at me with perhaps an understanding or disinterested expression. Men, however, looked at me with what seemed like an almost guilty or at least uncomfortable expression. It was all really odd. I've never had a black eye before, so I've never encountered the reactions of different people to that experience. I think it kind of sad that in our society viewing a woman with a black eye seems to evoke a response that they think "battered wife." It was weird.
I've only known one woman, thirty or more years ago, who I ever witnessed with a black eye from an abusive husband. I think it is one of the most despicable acts for a man to abuse a woman or ANYONE, actually. I can't fathom it. And, because my husband is so far removed from that type of behavior, I must thank God I've been so blessed. I tell my husband I'm so grateful for his tender, loving hands.
We had talked about heading out on Friday or Saturday, depending on weather--naturally, but with Grandpa being so sick, we had to wait for the BUG to leave. Sunday, he was feeling a bit better and the major symptoms had mostly abated, so we went to the new house and said our good-byes. (I hate having to tell our grandchildren good-bye. Though they live closer now than before, it's still a very long journey to see them.)
That night I crashed at 8:30. Since I did, I woke at about 2:22 am Monday. Husband woke around 3:33 am. We decided we felt up to the long drive back and hit the road prior to 5:00 am. It was such a blessing! We then were able to miss the rush-hour traffic an hour and a half later! AND for the rest of the day, our stops were held to a minimum of wasted time (till the final couple of hours from our destination). Still and all, I think we arrived home around 7:30 pm.
Oh the joy of being back in one's own home and bed! Grandpa is still suffering with back pain, though. We may have to take a trip to the doctor. Ugh.