Driving to aid my daughter, the lovely Isla Ness,
Her freezer was on meltdown – the food was in distress,
At a traffic ‘pinch-point’ caused by some stupid ballyhoo,
My love clipped a bollard and bang, two starboard tyres blew.
This sent the car into a terrible, washing machine-like spin,
But police-trained several years before, she used her strength within,
And brought the car to a total halt with tremendous resource,
But her head hit the window (driver’s side) with maximum force
She reached for her mobile to call everyone,
To tell what had happened, but life was there none,
Her phone, which just now, had been alive at her side,
Had, since the incident, inexplicably ‘died’.
Knowing I’d be climbing clear up every wall,
If no one involved heard anything from her at all,
She decided to drive home, degree by degree,
So as to try to avoid worrying me.
The tyres made the car really challenging to steer,
Because the power steering had all but disappeared,
And she could only creep slowly at the side of the road,
If she was to safely and soundly, reach our abode.
This process took more than two hours to perform,
By which time the vehicle was smoking a storm.
She collapsed in the house with tremendous relief,
And gave me and her sister* a sort of debrief,
But neglected to mention the blow to her head,
Till an hour later, when she climbed into bed.
Just shortly after, as so often occurs with these things,
She started talking gibberish, of cabbages and kings.
Alarmed, I reached for the phone and quickly rang 999,
And explained the scenario to the girl on the line.
The medics arrived and tried to downplay,
But they, like myself, didn’t think her okay.
They took her to ‘King’s’ ** to assess what was wrong,
They pronounced it concussion, which I’d feared all along.
So now she’s on bed rest and peace and real calm,
To ensure that my darling doesn’t come to more harm.
* I was talking to her sister, Emma at the time because we were both so worried
** King’s College Hospital (one of the big teaching hospitals in London)
Oh dear, what a pickle. Still all good now and the bang on the head hasn’t hindered me much 🙂
You are as lovely as ever. Xx
…yes, we are all happy you are OK.
It’s great to hear that you have recovered The poem explains a lot and gives us a much better understanding of what happened. I must be careful that nobody in my house carts me off to the hospital when I start talking “gibberish” because it all makes sense to me even when they don’t understand a word.
Aah, always better to err in the safe side…
Too many of us downplay concussions- only to find out later that was among the dumber of our efforts…
We have looked after Roy, don’t worry!
Oh my, poor Anita-Clare! Please pass on hugs for her Nebraska!
Have hugged her for you Amy! She says it was a lovely hug!
Well, what an ordeal! I hope that Anita has recovered by now!
She is much better thanks!
Glad to hear this. Take care xx
Thanks!
What a great way to tell this entertaining tale. Ok, prob not so entertaining at the time. AND a good reminder not to neglect blows to the head. Luckily you were there to note the gibberish and get her some attention!
Indeed Alessa! She is better now!
She seems like a woman you can’t keep down!
She most certainly is!
Awesome poem. Loved the rhythm & the rhyme. It elevates the subject matter, which must have been terrifying!!!!
I can’t believe she drove home with two blown tires. And nobody offered her help? How awful. I am glad she is better. Great poem.
Thanks Ann. She is much better now