Ok, so my fish story is not about some crazy big fish I did or didn't catch. Instead, it has to do with the fish fry I went to at my grandparents church last night. If you are Catholic, you may be familiar with not eating red meat on Fridays during lent. To give a little background my Grandpa Heegn (the one who made the sketches in the previous post) actually organized the fish fries at St. Ann's Church over 25 years ago, and they are still going strong. Well, yesterday was the first fish fry of the season, so of course I wanted to go. I really enjoy just about every kind of fish...fried catfish, boiled shrimp, fried shrimp, clams, etc... This may be a little drawn out, but here is how the events leading up to last night unfolded:
I had called my mom the night before and she wasn't sure if they (my parents) would make it since dad had already planned to go to the conference basketball playoffs with some old high school friends. I was a little bummed, and decided that I may just stay home after I got off work and make french toast to finish off the loaf of bread on our counter. However, my sister called me right when I got off work to let me know that mom decided she would go to the fish fry and then meet my dad at the game.
So, I pick up Brandon on my way home from work and head towards the fish fry only to end up making a wrong turn over the railroad tracks. I had to call my mom, who had no idea where I was from my descriptions. We decided to both back track towards the steak house where I could follow her the rest of the way to the church (Yes, I have been to this church a million times...no I really don't have an explanation for why I turned on the street I did). We waited for my mom to get back to the steak house and followed her the rest of the way to the church just fine.
Now, this set of events put us at the fish fry waiting in line with tickets for our meals with my mom facing in the direction of the doorway talking to Brandon and me. This is when we hear a loud whack/thud sound. While Brandon and I were turning to see where the sound came from, my mom, who saw the whole thing, was already by the man's side.
An elderly man had lost consciousness and fallen on his way towards the doorway. My mom, nurse Anna, was able to safely turn him over, have someone call 911, and help him as he regained consciousness. Although she is not a physician, she believed he had suffered a small stroke, as his tongue went towards his right side when he stuck it out and he was having trouble swallowing. He also had a concussion after the blow he took to his head. He kept repeating some of the same things. Every time he would ask what happened and then say that he didn't want to go to the hospital. When she kindly explained that he needed to because he needed some stitches in his head (it is better to have them focus on a minor cut then a serious stroke), he would state, "Well damn!"
It wasn't like my mom saved his life, but it was comforting to everyone else there to have a nurse by his side until the EMTs arrived, especially since he didn't have any family there with him. I really hope the best for him in his recovery. He may have even cracked some bones from taking such a hard fall.
I really don't know why why mom changed her mind about going to the fish fry. I also don't have an explanation for why I would turn the wrong way and get so turned around she had to come back and find me, which put us at the fish fry a little later than expected. Sometimes, I think the Holy Spirit leads you places where you are needed without you even knowing it...