Please note: If this post sounds a bit hysterical, it's because I am. Humor me, please.
Last weekend, before the snow hit, Craig and I hung the Christmas lights on the house. All went pretty well, except that when he got to the peak of the roof, he slipped and was hanging from the gutter. Luckily, I was able to brace us both and helped him down before we both hit payment. After the scare, I proclaimed that there would not be lights this year. He agreed.
We had a very nice holiday, though we missed my family members. I even went black Friday shopping and survived with only a scuffle and a bruised shin.
Murray has been asking to build a snowman ever since the first dusting of the hateful white stuff. Today, it was finally sticky enough to go out and build the best snowman on the block. The three of us were rolling snow into different sized balls, when Craig asked me if he should finish the lights. I said no, but Murray replied with an enthusiastic yay! So Craig climbed the ladder and not 2 minutes later, I heard an expletive and looked over to watch him twisting in the air from twelve feet above, and landing in a heap. As terrified as I was, I assumed he had the wind knocked out of him and would be fine when he caught his breath. Three minutes later, that was clearly not the case. He refused medical attention and Craig being Craig, insisted we finish the damn snowman while he laid in the snow in agony. I finally coaxed him out of the heap and into the house, when he promptly asked for pain meds(the man won't even take an aspirin). That was when I decided this was extremely serious and called Troy and Stef, followed by 911. The ambulance was here in less time than it took me to call them, and off he went on a stretcher, away from his hysterical wife and in enormous pain. The entire time, I was a hot mess and Murray was asking Troy if the Paramedics were going to shoot him (too much tv, I say).
Craig spiked a fever at the hospital, and after X-rays and a C.A.T. Scan were performed, it was determined that indeed, his back was broken. The L7 was the vertebrae in trouble. Our hopes are that he will be in a brace for 3-4 months, but surgery could still be required. We'll know more in the morning when the specialist arrives.
In the mean time, he's whacked on pain meds and going to be knocked out most of the night (the doctor said the pain would get worse). I am home with the dogs, and Murray is with family so that I am free to head to the hospital again after a few hours sleep.
Please pray for him, or if you aren't the praying type, positive vibes sent our way would be appreciated. I'll update tomorrow. Have I told you that I hate snow?
Love you honey - see you soon.