Poleaxed

It was an ordinary day, up until mid-afternoon that is. I finished installing the new security camera, Naomi worked hard outside, tidying the garden and putting away garden accoutrements.  In a final division of labour, our last tasks were hoovering up leaves with the leaf blower (and sucker), and digging holes for new shrubs. N was doing the former, I never got as far as the latter.  While fetching the cable extension from the garage, I heard a cry.  I ran at full speed to find Naomi flat out, face down on the concrete pathway.  She had tripped on a tangle of cables and slapped down face first on the hard ground of the path.  She was dripping with blood, had deep cuts on her brow as a result of her spectacles smashing into her flesh, badly abraded nose and a lip split in two places.  My first thought was the local A&E. But firstly, I dashed next door because I knew that Janice has a very full emergency medicine cabinet. Mercifully, she came and tended gently to Naomi's wounds with cleansing witch hazel, steri-strips, cotton wool and moist vaseline dressings. We gave Naomi paracetamol and warm tea and, between us, assessed that a hospital visit was probably not necessary.  She took a very nasty crack to the head, but has no generalised headache, thank goodness, no blurred vision and she did not fall unconscious.  She is lying on the sofa now, all snuggled up under a warm throw poor thing.