Accident

Roberta Horowitz

On Wednesday, June 30, my husband, my 24-year-old son, Yair, and I started a four-mile hike in Palisades Park in New Jersey. Ten feet into the hike, as I admired the beauty of the trees, I tripped over a tree root, and went down hard. I couldn’t breathe. After what seemed like a long time, I slowly drew in some welcome air. Then the pain hit, intensely. My head was killing me; my brain felt as if it was sloshing around inside my skull. My teeth felt not securely attached. I ran my tongue over the edges of my teeth, once, then again; they were all there. Then more pain hit: on my chin and under it, my stomach, my hands, arms, knees, nose, forehead.

“What hurts?” My son asked.
I gestured towards my head.
He advised me of the damage. “You’re scratched up. You have a small rock embedded in your forehead and you’re covered with dirt.” After checking my knees, my arms and hands, he went to get ice.

When he returned I put the soothing ice pack on my forehead, then on my chin, and back and forth. Everything was aching. Suddenly my head was spinning. I fainted. The State Police arrived and strongly recommended a trip to an ER. I resisted, and then changed my mind when they informed me that I could be bleeding inside my head. Four EMTs appeared, encased my neck in a brace and put me on an immobilizing board. We arrived at Englewood Hospital’s newly renovated ER, where every patient has a large private room staffed with exceptional caring, patient, professionals. After an exam, removal of the rock in my forehead, and a CAT scan; I was discharged with instructions for care. I had a concussion but no internal bleeding and no broken bones.

My advice – if you ever, God forbid, need an ER – even if you are in California, tell the ambulance driver to head for Englewood Hospital in New Jersey!