Le Suck, Or How I Got To Call 911 For The Very First Time!
So my yesterday was, as Orangeyak would say "Le Suck"
Why, you ask?
Well it's like this:
I was at home with my sister. I'm working on cleaning up my room, and Becca, my sister, age 14, asks me if I would like to eat some beignets (fried dough-type-things rolled in sugar) with her.
I say sure, that would be groovie.
About twenty minutes later, I hear a scream. My first thought is that she's spilled a bit of oil on her hand, except that the screaming keeps going, accompanied by banging around sounds. I run out to the kitchen, to see a pot fallen from the stove and colorless hot oil all across the kitchen floor. There's a window from the kitchen to my family room, where the stairs to the second level.
I looked though it, and I can still see a perfect image in my mind of the hat tree at the base of the stairs swinging back and forth where my sister had caught
herself as she sprinted up the stairs, where I could hear water running in the bath tub and her screaming. I make my way over the oil-coated floor of the kitchen
and run across the family room carpet and up the stairs, where the door to the bathroom is open, where my sister is sitting with her legs out in front of her with the cold water running on full, and she's still crying and screaming.
Until that moment, I still thought that it was a little burn on her arm and she'd just panicked and forgotten the sink downstairs. Half of her leg had small sheets of skin peeling off of her and she had splatters and patches of burns all over her arms and legs. I tried to talk to her, but she still couldn't do anything but scream and whimper.
Nobody should have to hear their little sister, whom they may argue with and complain about all the time, but still love very much, scream like that. Nobody.
I ran to the phone and called Dad, who said that he'd be right home, and then 911.
"Hello, 911. What is your emergency?"
"My little sister spilled hot oil on herself and she's badly burnt."
"Ok, and you're at _______ address?"
"Yes."
"And how old is your sister?"
"14"
"Ok, we'll have someone right over." (this is about the time tears start running down my face and continue for the rest of the experience)
I went back into the bathroom, where Becca is whimpering and crying and rocking, the cold water still running. I'm hugging her and saying "It's ok becca, I called 911, people will be getting here soon, It's gonna be ok, ok, shhhshhhshhh" And patting her on the back "They're gonna be here soon, it's ok, I'm gonna go downstairs and meet them, ok? It's gonna be ok."
And I run downstairs, mince across the kitchen floor (remember the oil? it's still all over the floor) and into my room, where I leave oil footprints, to put on a pair of shorts on over my oversize tshirt, no bra, which I'd slept in and hadn't changed out of. I then opened the front door, where I hear a siren (our siren) and see a firetruck pull up and four EMTs pile out. They come inside, and I lead them through the oilslick kitchen, telling them she's upstairs and apologizing for calling them and telling them I don't know how bad it is, all while crying like an idiot.
I get them upstairs and they crowd into the bathroom, and I'm holding Becca and she's still crying but answering their questions and I'm saying "It's ok, they're here now, it's ok, don't worry, it'll stop hurting it'll get better." and telling the EMTs I don't know where our parents are. They carry Becca down stairs and put her in the computer swivel chair and hook an IV up to her and start applying pads and irrigating the bunt patches and I'm still hugging her sholders and telling her it's ok and they'll make it stop hurting and she's sobbing and shaking and saying "It's hot My leg is hot, make it stop hurting!
It's hot, I can't stop shaking! I'm sorry, I told mom I would be all right here by myself! Ohgodohgodohgodohgod it huuuurrrts!" And I say it's ok, no one blames her, and the EMT tells her it's normal to shake.
I leave her for a minute to go outside and scream for Mom (she's godknowswhere out on a damn walk) and our crotchetty old neighbor, Mr. Hustler asks me what's wrong and I tell him about becca and I can't find mom she's out on a walk, and he offers to go drive and find her and I say thanks and go back inside (I'm still crying) And I fetch Becca a sip of water and her stuffed rabbit.
The EMTs have her about ready to go by the time Mom gets home, with Dad close on her heels, who I have to warn not to run over the oilslick kitchen.
Mom goes straight to Becca and is holding her and tells me to get her some ice water (get her some fucking ice water, that's a great priority) and then she's
off to ride in the ambulance, with Dad following her in the car and I'm left alone in the house with the mess.
I pick up all the medical packaging trash, wheel the computer chair outside to dry off the saline irrigating solution, and collapse onto the couch to cry for a bit.
I then mop up the kitchen floor, twice, which gets off most of the oil. I then call Kate, who isn't home, and then Sam, where her Mom answers and tells me to hang on a minute, and then I get Sam, and I tell her Becca just got badly burnt and went away in an ambulence and I'm home alone and freaking out, would you like to hang out or go to Scotties or Graeters or something? And she says She'll get into some clothes and be right over. I change into a shirt and shorts and wash my face and grab some money and put on flipflops, lock up the house, and go outside and wait.
She pulls in soon after, and I get in and she hugs me and I cry a little and tell her what happened. We went to the ice cream place where she works and got a huge sunday to split and we hung out and talked about random stuff. Two other bandies came by and we talked and I grabed a smoothie at Scotties and then Sam took me home and I introduced her to the Bibble (holybibble.net, check it out) and she went home and I mopped up the floor again. I watched TV and played the Sims for a while. Mom called, and it turned out Becca had 2nd degree burns over 14% of her body and they expected to have her there for 7-15 days. She also told me to collect
some books for her. She didn't know when they'd be back. I collected the books for her.
After a bit, I called Kate and she invited me over for dinner (it was 4:30 at the time) and we went to Krogers and Target and made Instant Tir Misu (however you spell it) and tacos
and watched TV with her Mom. I went home at 8 and nobody was home until 9:30. I played Sims and watched Superstar on the Comedy channel.
And that was my day.
I love Sam and Kate, you and your families rock my socks. Seriously.
Why, you ask?
Well it's like this:
I was at home with my sister. I'm working on cleaning up my room, and Becca, my sister, age 14, asks me if I would like to eat some beignets (fried dough-type-things rolled in sugar) with her.
I say sure, that would be groovie.
About twenty minutes later, I hear a scream. My first thought is that she's spilled a bit of oil on her hand, except that the screaming keeps going, accompanied by banging around sounds. I run out to the kitchen, to see a pot fallen from the stove and colorless hot oil all across the kitchen floor. There's a window from the kitchen to my family room, where the stairs to the second level.
I looked though it, and I can still see a perfect image in my mind of the hat tree at the base of the stairs swinging back and forth where my sister had caught
herself as she sprinted up the stairs, where I could hear water running in the bath tub and her screaming. I make my way over the oil-coated floor of the kitchen
and run across the family room carpet and up the stairs, where the door to the bathroom is open, where my sister is sitting with her legs out in front of her with the cold water running on full, and she's still crying and screaming.
Until that moment, I still thought that it was a little burn on her arm and she'd just panicked and forgotten the sink downstairs. Half of her leg had small sheets of skin peeling off of her and she had splatters and patches of burns all over her arms and legs. I tried to talk to her, but she still couldn't do anything but scream and whimper.
Nobody should have to hear their little sister, whom they may argue with and complain about all the time, but still love very much, scream like that. Nobody.
I ran to the phone and called Dad, who said that he'd be right home, and then 911.
"Hello, 911. What is your emergency?"
"My little sister spilled hot oil on herself and she's badly burnt."
"Ok, and you're at _______ address?"
"Yes."
"And how old is your sister?"
"14"
"Ok, we'll have someone right over." (this is about the time tears start running down my face and continue for the rest of the experience)
I went back into the bathroom, where Becca is whimpering and crying and rocking, the cold water still running. I'm hugging her and saying "It's ok becca, I called 911, people will be getting here soon, It's gonna be ok, ok, shhhshhhshhh" And patting her on the back "They're gonna be here soon, it's ok, I'm gonna go downstairs and meet them, ok? It's gonna be ok."
And I run downstairs, mince across the kitchen floor (remember the oil? it's still all over the floor) and into my room, where I leave oil footprints, to put on a pair of shorts on over my oversize tshirt, no bra, which I'd slept in and hadn't changed out of. I then opened the front door, where I hear a siren (our siren) and see a firetruck pull up and four EMTs pile out. They come inside, and I lead them through the oilslick kitchen, telling them she's upstairs and apologizing for calling them and telling them I don't know how bad it is, all while crying like an idiot.
I get them upstairs and they crowd into the bathroom, and I'm holding Becca and she's still crying but answering their questions and I'm saying "It's ok, they're here now, it's ok, don't worry, it'll stop hurting it'll get better." and telling the EMTs I don't know where our parents are. They carry Becca down stairs and put her in the computer swivel chair and hook an IV up to her and start applying pads and irrigating the bunt patches and I'm still hugging her sholders and telling her it's ok and they'll make it stop hurting and she's sobbing and shaking and saying "It's hot My leg is hot, make it stop hurting!
It's hot, I can't stop shaking! I'm sorry, I told mom I would be all right here by myself! Ohgodohgodohgodohgod it huuuurrrts!" And I say it's ok, no one blames her, and the EMT tells her it's normal to shake.
I leave her for a minute to go outside and scream for Mom (she's godknowswhere out on a damn walk) and our crotchetty old neighbor, Mr. Hustler asks me what's wrong and I tell him about becca and I can't find mom she's out on a walk, and he offers to go drive and find her and I say thanks and go back inside (I'm still crying) And I fetch Becca a sip of water and her stuffed rabbit.
The EMTs have her about ready to go by the time Mom gets home, with Dad close on her heels, who I have to warn not to run over the oilslick kitchen.
Mom goes straight to Becca and is holding her and tells me to get her some ice water (get her some fucking ice water, that's a great priority) and then she's
off to ride in the ambulance, with Dad following her in the car and I'm left alone in the house with the mess.
I pick up all the medical packaging trash, wheel the computer chair outside to dry off the saline irrigating solution, and collapse onto the couch to cry for a bit.
I then mop up the kitchen floor, twice, which gets off most of the oil. I then call Kate, who isn't home, and then Sam, where her Mom answers and tells me to hang on a minute, and then I get Sam, and I tell her Becca just got badly burnt and went away in an ambulence and I'm home alone and freaking out, would you like to hang out or go to Scotties or Graeters or something? And she says She'll get into some clothes and be right over. I change into a shirt and shorts and wash my face and grab some money and put on flipflops, lock up the house, and go outside and wait.
She pulls in soon after, and I get in and she hugs me and I cry a little and tell her what happened. We went to the ice cream place where she works and got a huge sunday to split and we hung out and talked about random stuff. Two other bandies came by and we talked and I grabed a smoothie at Scotties and then Sam took me home and I introduced her to the Bibble (holybibble.net, check it out) and she went home and I mopped up the floor again. I watched TV and played the Sims for a while. Mom called, and it turned out Becca had 2nd degree burns over 14% of her body and they expected to have her there for 7-15 days. She also told me to collect
some books for her. She didn't know when they'd be back. I collected the books for her.
After a bit, I called Kate and she invited me over for dinner (it was 4:30 at the time) and we went to Krogers and Target and made Instant Tir Misu (however you spell it) and tacos
and watched TV with her Mom. I went home at 8 and nobody was home until 9:30. I played Sims and watched Superstar on the Comedy channel.
And that was my day.
I love Sam and Kate, you and your families rock my socks. Seriously.