Chapter 3 - The injuries
I fell approximately thirteen feet.
Not directly onto marble.
That probably saved me.
I struck the edge of a banquet table first.
The table collapsed.
Then two chairs.
Then the floor.
The final medical list sounded terrifying and, according to my trauma surgeon, could have been much worse.
A stable pelvic-ring fracture.
Three fractured ribs on my left side.
A small pulmonary contusion.
A fractured left radius near the wrist.
A concussion.
Deep bruising along my back and thigh.
No spinal-cord injury.
No brain bleed.
No ruptured organ.
No paralysis.
No emergency abdominal surgery.
My wrist needed surgical fixation.
My pelvis did not.
Walking would come later.
Pain would come first.
Dr. Melissa Warren told me:
“You were very lucky.”
I hated that word.
Then understood she meant medically.
Fine.
I was lucky to be alive.
Karen was held for questioning that night.
She was later arrested.
Not for attempted murder.
Police did not invent intent because the fall looked dramatic.
The venue had security footage from a camera positioned near the ballroom staircase.
It showed Karen grabbing me.
Me pulling away.
Karen moving toward me.
Then a two-handed shove.
My back hitting the railing.
My fall.
No audio.
Several witnesses supplied that.
The railing complied with code.
No broken section.
No venue trap.
May you like
Karen had pushed an adult standing near an elevated edge.
That was enough danger without pretending the restaurant caused it.
