Five-Star Disability

Alright, moving along this story to get it done; today’s blog will be a short one, focusing on getting out of the ditch.

Part 1 and Part 2 explain how I ended up in, and what happened in the ditch.

Once the police found me, it took them awhile because I was hard to find, the first responder, a 30-something nice looking guy, helped me out by supporting my hand, pulling me out.

Then, two other police arrived, and immediately went into the ditch to right my fallen wheels. They were seasoned cops, focused, determined.

Then two women police offices showed up. They went directly to support me, one hunkered down to eye level, and started to chat with me as I sat on the side of the road, feet on the edge of the ditch.

Those ladies were the ones who were gold-star, using any means to communicate with me. One wrote down on the ubiquitous police standard issue leather pad, unfortunately, I couldn’t read her writing.

I handed the other my notes app, with mic on, and she spoke a few words. And I said my foot broke, thirsty, and pain. Something like that.

Meanwhile the first two cops had righted CJ-3, but couldn’t get it out.

“The ditch is too soft to get it out.” And “We called the fire department to help.” were two messages given to me via Notes app.

As I was sitting there on the edge of the ditch, in pain, drinking a can of fizzy water, about 5 police officers were active around me, either taking notes, talking, maybe one was directing traffic, I couldn’t tell you.

Then, the woman cop who hunkered down asked to take my phone, and she tapped into the Notes App, “Fire crew is here.”

Suddenly, I was accosted by a hunk of a fireman who could have made Dwayne Johnson look like a toothpick! This fireman was burly beyond burly! Muscular!

He accosted me, by examining my foot. Both I, and the hunkering police officer, I’m assuming, told him it was broken. He tested in, and I did let out a manly scream of pain when he touch my toe…

He tapped something into my Notes App, but I’ve forgotten what it he said, but magically a ice bag was placed on my foot.

Then, his attention turned to CJ-3; suffice to say, it took seven people to pull the chair up that steep embankment! With Mr. Burly Fireman at the bottom! I was amazed!

Their attention then turned to back to me, someone tapped into Notes: we are taking you to hospital, we will take care of your chair.

I was hauled up, taken over to, and installed into the back of a police cruiser. It was an awkward move, because, being DeafBlind, and ataxic, and not wanting to put weight on my foot, I was lifted and hauled backwards.

Probably three or four people were talking to me, explaining what I should be doing, naturally all these suggestions and supportive words fell on Deaf ears, literally and figuratively!

Once in the back seat, Mr. Burly Fireman shook my hand, giving me my crocs, which came off during the fall, and the bag with the pills! He tapped into Notes, your chair will be taken care of. He closed the door and we drove off!

I tapped into Notes: “Two days ago, I realized that I have never ridden in the back seat of a police car!” and showed the driver. I was momentary shocked to realize the guy driving me was the first responder. We had a laugh about my prediction!

Minutes later, we arrive at the hospital, several things happened next… to find out, read Part 4. Hard pressed

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