So what began as a typical day did not end as one.

I went for a hair cut at one.

Came home and all seemed normal.

He was upstairs for his nap.

I took Lucy out and when we came in, we heard crash, bang, boom, bang, bang, bang!

The Curmudgeon fell down the steps!

I found him wedged at the bottom, upside down, in a ball, trapped against the gate. I couldn’t move him.

I called 911.

By the time they got here, he had managed to unroll himself but was not up.

He refused to go to the hospital.

A few hours later, he was back in bed and found he couldn’t get up. He had me call them back. Oh, duh. Do you think maybe you should have gone when they were here the first time?

I sent him along with his paperwork. Figured they call me if they admitted him him or were sending him home.

They decided to send him home so I went to pick him up.

He was in no shape to come home. He was too freaking weak to climb into my car much less make it up the steps to the house. I went back in and told them so.

I took him back in. A different doctor looked him over.

She admitted him.