This post is part of the Patients for a Moment: Show Me the Love ChronicBabe.com Blog Carnival hosted by Jenni Prokopy, the Editrix.

photo credit: ronocdh

Friends are born, not made.

— Henry B. Adams

Last Wednesday, my friend, Teri, was run over by a car – literally.  It was, in the classic definition of the word, an accident.  The driver and the victim knew each other.  They live just down the street from each other.  Part of the cause of the accident was assuming and the other part was hurry.

The car was parked in the driveway.  Teri saw that her neighbor was in the car, the engine was on and she saw the driver check behind her.  Teri assumed that the driver saw her and that the driver wouldn’t pull out quickly, so she walked behind the car.

The driver was in a hurry.  She looked behind her, saw nothing in her path and gunned the engine – she was running late.  POW!!  Teri was on the ground – trying to get out of the way of the car.  She thinks that she yelled “STOP!” – but she’s not sure.  The rear wheels of the car ran over her feet, and just as she’s thinking, “Oh no, not the front wheels too!” – the car stopped.

It sounds so straight forward doesn’t it?  Almost as if my friend knew what was happening – moment by moment, but it wasn’t that clear.  All she knew at the time was that she was on the ground and hurt.  The driver offered to take her to the hospital.  She declined – but accepted a ride home.

Call Out the Cavalry!!

Once at home, she started re-arranging her calendar.  She hurt too badly to be going out to keep her regular commitments.  She was supposed to be at Bible Study that evening, she cancelled.  Book Club was scheduled for the coming Tuesday, she called me to cancel.  The pastor, being no dummy, sent a deacon who was also an RN to check on her.  The deacon insisted that Teri go to the hospital and at this point, she agreed.  Four hours later, the diagnosis – broken rib, broken toe on right foot, broken toe on left foot, sprained ankle and no concussion.  There was no real reason to admit her to the hospital BUT the doctor didn’t like the fact that she lived alone.  Reluctantly, she sent Teri home.

And herein is the real benefit to a small town.  Teri moved here almost two years ago.  She knew an old college roommate and a couple of people she’d met through the roommate.  Most of the people who live nearby are transplants – they all came from somewhere else.  To a person, they expressed that since their families weren’t nearby, they needed to take care of one another and that’s exactly what they did.

The RN/deacon lives 5 minutes away and was available if needed during the night.  Within 24 hours most everyone knew that Teri’d been hurt and the organizer in the group was scheduling folks to do their part.  Dog people were dispatched to help take care of the dogs. (She has three large dogs, two staffies and a shepherd husky mix.)  People who liked to cook were scheduled to provide meals and volunteer drivers were put on a list to help with things like doctors’ appointments and shopping.  The cavalry was mobilized.

By the time I got there Thursday afternoon, Teri was feeling as if she’d been hit by a truck.  Obviously, there was a good reason for this, she’d been hit by an SUV.  She could barely walk around and couldn’t reach up or out.  Every time she moved, her rib caused her LOTS of pain and then usually the surrounding muscles would spasm.  Boy was she happy to see me!  If nothing else I could bring the ibuprofen to her instead of her having to get up and get it.

Enough, Already!

People kept ringing the doorbell and calling on the phone.  Most of them were just wanting to commiserate with her and give her legal advice – “Be sure and file a report with the state.”  Most of them couldn’t believe that she wasn’t going after the driver, but Teri really felt – and continued to emphasize – that it was her fault as much as the driver’s.

On Friday, we had to start scheduling visitors.  There were things she needed to do.  We went back to the hospital to get her “films” for her Monday morning appointment with the podiatrist.  They wouldn’t let me have them so she had to go.  And as long as we were out and about, she wanted to do a couple of other things.

By Saturday, support was in full swing.  One of the cooks brought dinner including salad, Italian casserole and a full chocolate raspberry cake.  People were calling to tell her that they were planning to bring dinner next week.  Others wanted to be given a driving assignment.  The thing was that by Saturday, she was feeling pretty good.  She fed the dogs herself – a pre-requisite to me going home.  She helped fix lunch and was able to deal with her email.  Now, the question was “How do we get control of all these people?”

As Always, Balance is the Key

Friends can be wonderful!  They can also be overwhelming.  Now that the cavalry was mobilized, we needed to decommission them.  So, on Sunday, she went to church.  We got there early and sat in the back.  People came over to visit with her and could see that she was OK.  During the “prayers for special intentions” part of the service, the pastor pointed out that Teri was there and looked pretty good, considering.  And whenever asked, she said that she was doing soooo much better, thank you.  Gently, she began to let people know that she was sort of back to normal and didn’t really need much help.  She accepted help with the dogs, but only from people who knew how to handle dogs.  She accepted a ride to the podiatrist and another to Bible Study next week.  The number of people walking in the front door diminished.  And I got to go home.

It’s a fine line between helping and overwhelming.  Teri lives alone.  She’s lived alone for years and as she says, she’s always been able to manage just fine by herself.  But this time was different.  She needed some help and she quickly learned how to graciously accept it.  Then, once again, she was able to cope and it was time for us to all go home.  When I talked to her today, she said that there are times she wishes I was there to fetch for her.  I said “But then you’d like me to disappear because it’s time to be alone.”  She agreed, “Yeah, it’s nice to be just me and the dogs.”

Amazing as it sounds, the podiatrist said today that she can drive whenever she feels comfortable.  So, until the rib heals a bit more, she needs help walking the dogs and that’s about it.  We’re both grateful for the “instant support system – just add trouble” that appeared so quickly and helped so much.  We’re both grateful that she’s healing so quickly and we’ve both learned a bit about how to help when others need it and how to gracefully withdraw when it’s all over.  It’s just a matter of finding the right balance.