rivka

At 6:24 this morning Michael was sitting at his computer checking his e-mail before work, when he felt a few tiny plaster crumbs fall onto his head. He looked up. The crack in the ceiling looked a little wider. He grabbed his wallet and phone, preparing to get out of the way. He didn't make it. The ceiling fell on his head.

This is where I would like to interrupt the story and say, "But don't worry, he's okay." Except that we don't know yet whether he's okay or not. He's at the ER right now awaiting a head and neck CT. They have concerns that there might be a small neck fracture. And of course he feels absolutely awful.

Right after it happened I came out of our room and saw Michael sitting on the stairs looking shocky. I came down and checked to see if his head was bleeding. It was filled with dirt and silt and plaster dust, and my first ridiculous thought was that he was going to need to shower again before work. But of course he didn't go to work.

Our insurance company has a 24-hour advice nurse. Based on what we told her, she thought we could monitor him at home. She instructed me to check on him every two hours for 12 hours, then every four hours for the next 12, and every 6 hours after that. I was to make sure that he could be easily roused from sleep, that he knew who and where he was, that he could speak and walk normally, and that his personality hadn't changed. He could have Tylenol only for pain, and an ice pack for twenty minutes every two hours.

I made him stay awake through the first two hours. The lump on his head swelled to the size of his hand and was oddly hot to the touch. By the end of the second two hours, he reported increasing dizziness and an awful lot of neck pain and stiffness, so we decided to go to the ER. He was talking and walking okay, but sounded a little befuddled.

Our landlord came out immediately to survey the damage, with his handyman Mike. He had Mike come back this afternoon to clean everything up with a Shop-Vac. It took remarkably little time. I'm washing down the desks now, and then I need to mop the floor and use the forced-air canister on our keyboards. I'm guessing we'll wind up getting new keyboards though. Fortunately Colin went down for a nap just after Mike got here, and Alex is curled up watching a movie and staying out of the way while I clean. Of course the rubble and destruction were massive kid magnets all morning.

They'll come on Tuesday to take down another big chunk of the ceiling and replace the whole thing.

I didn't get weepy and panicky until the kids were both out of the way (asleep or deep in Monsters vs. Aliens) and another adult (Mike the handyman) was here. Because that's the thing about being the only adult in charge. Now I just want to cry and wring my hands.