September 8, 2010

Chainsaws in Trees and Role Reversal

On Sunday, my dad was high up his extension ladder wielding a chainsaw as he attempted to cut down unruly tree branches. He seems to enjoy tempting fate and the angel of death, because he does this little acrobatic routine quite often. I should also add that his chainsaw doesn't have an automatic switch-off. Can you sense the foreshadowing?

My Dad, propped at an unusual angle, attempted to saw down one of these branches (which was actually quite large for a branch) and did not anticipate the kick-back that would occur. The ladder moved wildly, his foot got caught on the ladder rung, and down he fell, somersaulting backwards off the ladder and onto the ground. The chainsaw ended up 10 feet away from him, still running.

He said he doesn't really remember the fall, only catching his foot and then being on the ground. But a neighbor saw it and it was not pretty.

After having a craniotomy a few years ago for a bleed in his brain resulting from a bad landing with his hang glider, we are all super paranoid and concerned about my dad and his head. It wasn't that long ago that a bad headache, six weeks after the initial injury, landed him in emergency brain surgery. It wasn't that long ago that he had about 30 staples holding his scalp shut. It wasn't that long ago that he was in the ICU and we were all praying the swelling in his brain would go down so he could speak normally again. Yes, he hit his head on Sunday; yes, he also refused to go to the ER to be checked out.

My Mom said he has a huge lump on the back of his head and that she is treating him as if he has a concussion. He says his entire body hurts and he has cuts and bruises in places he didn't know he could have cuts and bruises.

I spent a split second being concerned and upset and then I got mad. This was right about the time my dad asked my Mom for the phone so he could speak to me. My Dad rarely asks to speak to me on the phone.

Dad: "I need to tell you a couple things."

Me: (Bracing for the worst. He's probably upset with me about something.)

Dad: "First of all, I love you. . . very much."

Me: "I'm sensing a 'but'. . . is there one?"

Dad: "Second, you are doing an amazing job with your kids. They are great kids and you are raising them right. I'm really proud of you for that."

Me: "Ok, I'm sensing a major 'BUT' coming."

Dad: "You also did a great job picking a husband."

Me: "Um, ok, where is this going dad?"

Dad: "Finally, when I sent you out to Pitt, you really screwed up the first year. BUT, you turned it around in less than a year! That was impressive and I'm really proud of you that you did that."

Me: "Ok, so Dad, you must have hit your head really hard? Don't you think you need to have it checked out? And why are you telling me all this stuff? Are you afraid that you did hit your head really hard and it's going to end badly?"

Dad: "No, but when something like that happens, you just realize that you don't want to leave this world without saying some of the things that are in your head and you never get around to saying. So, I just wanted to tell you."

Me: "Oh, well thanks."

Dad: "Ok, well I'm going to go now. . . "

Me: "No, Dad wait. I want to tell you some things too. . ."

Dad: "Ok, what?"

Me: "Well first, you're a freaking BLOCKHEAD! If you ever saw me dangling from a ladder like that with a chainsaw, no less, you would tell me I was an idiot. So, I am returning the favor. That was really stupid! If you and I had been driving down a street and saw someone doing that, you would be joining me in calling them an idiot. . . Second, you're going to be 60 years old soon and I think it's high time you realized that you need to call a tree service instead of risking your life! You have two little girls who ADORE you in my house and they would be DEVASTATED if anything happened to you. How would you expect me to explain to them that you are gone because you went climbing a ladder with a chainsaw? I mean seriously! Third, we ALL need you so think about all of us before you do something stupid like that again. . . got it? Oh, and I love you too."

Apparently, the parental role has switched to me. Next week I'm going to yell at him about driving too fast and taking the corners like Mario Andretti. I may also sneak over to the house and hide his chainsaw.