The Walls of Jericho – Malone Style
Posted by thedarwinexception on August 11, 2008
So let me tell you about my day – no, really, you’ll love this.
So did I tell you about the house that Paul is demolishing? Well, there’s this house up at the end of our street that the owner is demolishing. Paul wanted the wood (the less to buy to burn this winter), so he offered to tear the house down for the guy. But, since Paul is such a packrat, he hasn’t thrown *anything* away from the house, and now our backyard is overrun with wood, cupboards, cabinets, doors, windows, etc. etc. etc. But that’s a rant for another day.
Paul is at the point in the demolition that the only thing left standing as of this morning was the front porch, and the front and back wall of the house. The rest is gone. So this morning he wanted to tear down the porch roof and take the front porch down.
So, luckily, Malone Leslie also came by this morning. As she was leaving our house, she gets to the top of our street and she calls me from her cell phone. “Ummm….Kim, I think Paul got hurt – there’s cop cars and an ambulance at the house.”
Yup – seems the porch demolition didn’t go as planned – and it collapsed on top of Paul, and he was buried under the rubble for 5 or 10 minutes – no one knows exactly how long – he was screaming for help and his buddy Junior (the one that wanted to hook up with Leslie and fanned the flames of love when he tried to fix her car), well, Junior heard Paul screaming from two streets over and ran up there and tried to get all the wood and lumber and porch wood off of Paul. Junior screamed at a passerby to call 911 and the cops came and had to dig him out the rest of the way.
When Leslie called me and I went up there, they were putting Paul in a neck brace and trying to drag him through the rubble to get him on a backboard and into the ambulance. I couldn’t stay there – I was getting so sick to my stomach – that nauseated feeling you get when someone you love is screaming in pain – and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I went back to Leslie, who was still in the car at the top of the hill on my street, and asked if she would just drive me to the ER.
I had to walk back to the house to get some shoes – when Leslie called I was so focused on just getting to Pail and seeing what had happened, I didn’t even put shoes on, I just ran up the hill. And you know, it’s funny the things you think of and worry about when you are panicked – the only thing I could think when I got to the house was “I better get Paul some Gatorade – he’s going to be so thirsty!” So I grabbed Gatorade and put some shoes on and Leslie took me to the hospital to wait for the ambulance to bring Paul.
They finally brought him in, and initially they were pretty sure he had a crushed pelvis, and at the least that he had a broken leg. They took X-rays, and found nothing broken, but he possibly has a cracked bone that won’t show on x-rays. He definitely has what they are calling Axonotmesis, which is severe nerve damage. This can take anywhere from 1 week to a year to recover from. He has tingling and numbness in his hip and leg, and he’s got a splint on his leg and crutches to gimp around on, although he’s not supposed to be on his leg at all. And something he calls “fucking awesome painkillers”. He has a follow up appointment in three days. Although he’s quite sure he’ll be back at the job tomorrow (yeah, right).
Junior came to the hospital and told Leslie and I about digging Paul out of the rubble. He said the entire porch was on top of him, and that there were four grown men there and they couldn’t lift the entire weight of the roof off of Paul, that they had to dig layer by layer to free him. He said there had to be (literally) a ton of rubble on Paul, and he was shocked that Paul is even alive, let alone home with nothing broken – a thought shared by the EMT who I talked to on the way out of the hospital – he had stopped back by just to see how Paul was doing, because he thought the whole episode was just so fucking spectacular. He said “Nothing’s broken? Holy shit – I swear to God, I thought sure that guy was going to die before we could unbury him – I thought he was a fucking goner.”
Then another guy came down here – he lives next door to the house Paul is demolishing – he introduced himself as “Hi! I’m the guy who helped dig your husband out this morning – how’s he doing?” He said that he, too, was shocked that Paul is home.
Paul is convinced now that he’s Superman. He thinks it’s awesome that he can add to his business card “Don’t fuck with me – I’ve successfully lived through a fucking house collapsing on me.” Although he did say his claustrophobia kicked in for a minute there, and he was sure he was going to die just from sheer panic. But don’t tell *him* I told you that, he’s still trying to convince everyone he’s Superman.
But how much do I love Malone Leslie? She was at the right place at the right time, and even though she took today off from work to go and run a bunch of important errands she had, she took time out to calm me down, talk to me, take me to the hospital and then stay there with me while Paul was screaming in pain in the ER and I was so nervous and scared I thought I was going to puke or pass out. What a good friend. And Junior, too, who probably saved Paul’s life getting there right away, making sure someone called 911, and digging Paul out.
So that was my day.