OK, so the universe is speaking to me and apparently I’m not listening. This is, of course giving the universe the benefit of the doubt and probably taking the blame for something not my fault. When was the last time the universe spoke to YOU in ENGLISH???
I was doing laundry one night. This is not earthshattering news by any means. What is earthshattering is that I decided to take my clothes off, add to the pile, and actually carry the load of clothes down the stairs instead of throwing over the banister to the downstairs tile floor. Here I am, a naked, middle-aged woman carring laundry down the stairs and I look up thinking “I wonder if anyone can see me through the sheer curtains?” I take another step and the clothes explode from my arms, all over the entryway and living room. I am on my butt, one leg under my butt, knees wide part. NOT a pretty site. I unwedge the leg that’s under me, close my knees, and tell myself to breathe and not pass out from pain just as my husband and daughter reach me.
“Sweety Girl, could you get Mommy a glass of water? Scott, could you get my pajamas?” I whisper through the slice of pain. They turn away and I pull myself down to the cold tile floor to lay. I know that I broke my leg, but I am trying to stay conscious so I won’t frighten my daughter. I get my water to drink then Scott helps me get my pajamas on. I hop one one foot, in white hot searing pain, to the recliner just as the phone rings. My doctor friend that works at the prison in San Quentin wants to know what happened. OK, she’s also a psychic. I tell her and she talks to calm me and help keep me from going into shock. Then another friend calls (yep, also psychic) and she teaches me how to run the shock down my body and out through the bottom of my feet. I feel better.
When someone shows up to stay with our daughter, my hubby loads me on a furniture dolly with a couch cushion on top and rolls me out to the truck. Off to the emergency room (ER) we go…and the most riducuous evening I think I’ll ever have.
My hubby goes for a wheelchair, comes back to unload me, rolls me in. We check into the ER. ”What happened?”
“ I fell down the stairs.”
“ How many stairs?”
“ Four or five.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No, but only through sheer will as I didn’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
I go to triage. ”What happened?”
“ I fell down the stairs.”
“ How many stairs?”
“ Four or five.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No, but only through sheer will as I didn’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Do you have Insurance?
“Yes”
“Wow! You’re the third person today! Are you allergic to any medications? “Yes” and I list.
“What medications are you currently taking?” I tell him. “Please check in at the window. They will take your information and we will call you when it’s your turn.”
At the window we are asked “Do you have insurance?”
“Yes”
“What happened?”
“ I fell down the stairs.”
“ How many stairs?”
“ Four or five.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No, but only through sheer will as I didn’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
I go to triage. ”What happened?”
“ I fell down the stairs.”
“ How many stairs?”
“ Four or five.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No, but only through sheer will as I didn’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Do you have Insurance?
“Yes”
“Wow! You’re the third person today! Are you allergic to any medications? “Yes” and I list.
“What medications are you currently taking?” I tell her. Then we go through all the information gathering and providing process. I have a broken leg and not really in the mood to be answering all these questions. Meanwhile I look around and there are a lot of people in that emergency room. I think I may be in for a long night! “Please have a seat and we’ll call you when it’s your turn.” I didn’t point out that I’m in a wheelchair and already sitting!”
There I sit in my pink pajamas in my wheelchair yelling at people to watch out before then run into my elevated leg that’s sticking straight out in front of me. They look down and say, “Yep. It’s broken alright. That must hurt.” Duh!
Scott goes up to the window to ask about pain medication, gets sent to triage. “She can have some ibuprofin” the nurse tells him. He holds his hand out. “We can’t give her anything! We haven’t seen her yet!” Well, technically they have. But he doesn’t feel like arguing so he goes out to the truck and returns with an industrial size bottle of ibuprofin. “Oh, God…could I please have a couple of those?” someone bs.egs when they see him giving me some tablets. I tell him to offer some to the young woman two seats over as I’d been watching her. She is extremely grateful. In less than two minutes, Scott is dispensing ibuprofin all over that emergency room!
Three hours later my name is called. I’m transferred to a gurney. A nurse comes in and picks up the chart made by the lady at the ER window. The chart contains the triage notes. The nurse asks “Do you have insurance?”
“Yes”
“What happened?”
“ I fell down the stairs.”
“ How many stairs?”
“ Four or five.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No, but only through sheer will as I didn’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Yes, but I took some ibuprofin.”
“Let me get you some Vicodin.”
“But Vicodin makes me bitchy!”
“ Honey, I’ll write you a note!” She gives me a couple. About 15 minutes later the Vicodin kicks in. Uh, oh…her we go…Three doctors come in. Two were interns and one happens to be one of the best bone doctors at the hospital. I don’t know if it was the Vicodin, the endless recitation of information, or what but I’d had enough by this time. “What happened?” “Can’t you just read the f__ing file?”
“ Yes, but we’d like to hear it from you.” All of a sudden I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m having a bad trip. Not a bad trip to the hospital, a bad trip on drugs! I tell the doctors and they tell the nurse to get something I can’t remember, and couldn’t pronounce even if I could, STAT! I’m apparently having a bad reaction to the vicodin. I get an IV and a shot. OK, we start over again. “What happened?”
“Can’t you just read the file? I’m tired of repeating myself.”
“No, we need to hear it from you…” I recite my story and can do it from memory despite the new pain medication they’ve given me.
X-rays…OK, see this right here? That’s a spiral fracture. We usually don’t put a cast on for three days, but this is the worst kind of fracture. If we don’t cast you and protect your leg, it could break more.” I didn’t think having a cast put on could hurt so much, but I got even more pain medication and THEN I was taught how to use crutches. Naturally, I fell on my broken leg. It hurt like hell, but I no longer cared!
I’m finally home, get upstairs and go to bed.
I awaken as my hubby and daughter leave for the day. I take the pain medication the hospital sent home, return to sleep and awaken again. I’ve got a migraine and I feel like I’m on a bad trip again. I look at the medication the hospital sent home. It’s Vicodin…
I call the number at the bottom of the discharge sheet the ER gave me. They tell me Vicodin is the only thing they can give me because of one of the medications I currently take. I tell them they gave me something else last night when I had a bad reaction to the Vicodin. They disagree, saying there wasn’t anything else I could take. I would have to choose between a migraine or broken leg pain.
Luckily, my San Quentin doctor friend called me when I got home. She got pretty mad when I told her my story and said “Bullshit!” She called in a prescrition for me saying “what’s the use of having a friend for a doctor if you couldn’t use and abuse her once in awhile?” Thank god for my psychic prison doctor! The health system could have killed me! OK, maybe they wouldn’t cost me my life, but they did cost me an industrial size bottle of ibuprofen!
