My Little Brother's "brush with death"!

Two weeks ago, I received a text from my brother's wife, Adrien, as I was sitting in my office preparing for my radio show.  It said, "Taking your brother to the emergency room. Accident.  Cut the back of his leg. Very bad.  Will let you know."  I was freaked out!  My little brother (ok, he's 43, but he's still my baby brother!) was hurt!  Oh, no!  He's a runner!  We are running a 5K at the beach in a couple of weeks in honor of my dad, what is he going to do?  Will he be able to walk?  Is he going to be in a wheelchair for our family beach trip!?  All kinds of thoughts were running through my head.

I wrote Adrien back and said, "Please let me know as soon as you know something!"  A little while later, I received another text.  It was a picture.  It said "the scene of the crime."  I studied it and noticed some blood, a white trash bag, a sock and an ugly, green, tennis shoe.  I thought, "OK, is that it?  Is another picture coming?"  Trust me, it was.

I asked her, "What happened?!"  She proceeded to tell me that she heard my brother screaming in the garage, ran out to find him on the ground screaming and writhing in pain, "We need to get to the hospital, I think I've cut an artery!"  She rushed back into the house, grabbed my niece and nephew, piled them in their car seats and began the drive to the emergency room.  On the way, my emotionally charged brother told her and the kids how much he loved them and that he'd had a great life.  He gave my sister-in-law instructions if he didn't make it.  Basically, he practically administered his "Last Will & Testament". 

When they pulled up to the emergency room door, they screamed for help.  An orderly came running out with a wheelchair.  My brother said, "I've cut my leg! I can't walk!"  In a flash, the orderly rushed my brother to the examing room and called for a doctor.

Adrien felt helpless.  All she could do was wait now.  She parked the car, collected the kids and sat in the waiting room for some news.  Was her husband going to be able to walk again?  Would he come out with a bandage, a cast or a wheelchair?  What if he didn't come out at all?!  She hadn't been able to see how bad the cut was because my brother had wrapped it in a towel.  Maybe that was for the best.

All I could do was wait.  My show was about to start and I was anxious to hear something!  Finally, I received some news.  It was another picture text.  This time it was of my brother's ankle.  And there was no large bandage, no cast or I.V., no surgery or anything close.  His ankle sported a Garfield band-aid.  A band-aid!  Yes, he was safe and being released from the hospital.  They did give him a tetnus shot, just in case.  Not sure what they gave him, if anything, for his bruised and battered ego!  My daughter, Tawni, is a nurse.  She told me there's no doubt in her mind the E.R. nurse purposely used that Garfield band-aid on his ankle (she said she'd have done the same thing!).  After all, Garfield is a pussy cat.  Hmmmm?

You can just imagine the great time that Chuck and I had on the radio discussing my brother's boo-boo and brush with death?

911 Robbie? Seriously?  This one will be told for generations to come in our family!