I am not really the best in emergency situations. Read on.
We moved into a new house when I was going into the 4th grade. My grandparents we over and were helping with the move as well. The moving truck was backed up to the garage and my Dad and Grandpa were taking some of the heavier furniture off the back of the truck. While they were trying to get a huge cabinet off the truck, my Grandpa lost his footing and just as I was coming into the garage from the house, I saw my grandpa fall backward off the truck onto his butt and then watched his head slam against the concrete garage floor. He then let out the most horrifying moan that I imagine is the same as the sound of a Yeti dying. I completely freaked out and screamed and then ran the opposite direction from my grandpa into the back yard (away from any people that could actually help) and yell, "CALL 911! CALL 911!!!"
I suppose looking back, I did better than my grandma who supposedly was running around on the front lawn in circles and screaming as though she was being chased. And I suppose I did better than my dad who, after my grandpa had regained consciousness and the paramedics had arrived, told our neighbors that he hadn't fallen but rather my dad pushed him. Lovely.
My mom did the best job of all of us and right after my grandpa fell, he ran across the street into our neighbor's open door, right into their house and said, "Hi, I'm Allison. I live across the street now and I need to call 911."
Welcome to the neighborhood!!!
My grandpa was fine and made a full recovery. And I suppose I was able to redeem myself a few months ago. I came home to my complex to find my neighbor standing on the curb holding her baby and yelling for help. Her giant, scary, lion dog had attacked her. That's right people, HER DOG. THE HAND THAT FEEDS IT. Her jeans were torn. Although completely unharmed her baby clothes were covered in blood and chunks of skin were hanging from my neighbors jeans. Although I did not call 911 this time, at her insistence, I had her come into my house and sit down. I called her husband and waited with her for her sister in law to show up and drive her to the ER. She was really thankful for my help.
A lot of people have asked me why I let her in my house or apologized to me for having to deal with a hysterical woman. To that I just say, she was just a person that needed my help. So I helped her. Does that make me a hero or a human? Maybe a little of both?
