Frantic, hectic morning.
I was half asleep a little before 8 when Prince Albert walked to the bedroom door, all sweaty, and said, "I was hit by a truck." I heard the story, took a look at him, dressed and drove him to the Outpatient clinic nearby.
Here's the story behind the accident. PA walked from McDonald's and was waiting on the New Orleans side of Elise ready to cross onto our street. An ambulance put on its siren and turned onto the next street over (one block North of ours.) Everyone was at a standstill waiting for the ambulance to clear when PA decided to cross the street. Well the pick-up truck waiting at the stop sign on our street turned onto Elise going North as PA was crossing. Somehow the extended rear-view mirror on the driver's side hit PA on the left side of his head, sent his glasses flying and sent him to the ground.
PA was so angry that he told the guy to "Get the hell out of here, before I beat the shit out of you." So the guy left (Gee, I wonder why?). PA only knows what the guy looks like and that it's a black pick-up, but he didn't get the license plate number.
The clinic cleaned up the scrapes on his elbow and palms, gave him a tetanus shot, and x-rayed his head (he has a nondisplaced fracture through the lateral wall of the left orbit). Recommended to contact an ENT for possible CAT scan follow-up. Tylenol, ice and rest for the first 24 hours, pain pills as needed after that.
He couldn't find his glasses, but after we came home from the clinic I found the glasses on the grass at the corner with one lens lying about 2 feet away. He put them back together.
We called the sheriff's office and made a report after we got home from PSO, just in case.
And that was how the first 3 hours of my day went.
phobia.