Tribute to Dad

My dad got hurt.

A few days ago, Dad was cleaning the gutters of their house and fell off of the roof. He tumbled 12 feet, hit a railing, flipped upside down, and came to rest on the grass next to the deck. The hose he was using to clean out the gutters with remained on the roof, and showered him with water while he laid unconscious.

Mom heard a low moan outside as Dad came to. She went outside to find him struggling to get up. He couldn't. She turned off the water, ran inside to get blankets to cover his drenched body, and called 911. The ambulance came and carted him to the hospital in Fortuna, where the doctors could do nothing but call an airplane to take him to San Francisco. He went to the VA hospital, and was diagnosed with three badly broken vertebrae in his lower neck.

Mom drove down there the following day and Aunt Lynne came in from Chico. Dad was in pain, and the meds they gave him did little to offset the agony. Over the next day or so, doctors changed their plan from surgery to no surgery, then to surgery again. His operation took nine hours, and they used bolts and nuts and plates to screw things back together. The lack of movement in his arm was supposed to go away, but at this time it has not. We hope that it will return as swelling subsides.

I love my father very much and am hoping that he has full recovery, and a painless one at that. Take care, Dad. I'll see you soon.