Random ramblings of a mind damaged by years of disuse and abuse. Also a place to go to be bored to tears.
The Random Cartoon
Words to live by...
"How beautiful it is to do nothing, and to rest afterward."
(The right to looseness has been officially given)
By the way... there's a crossword at the bottom of this page
Monday, March 22, 2010
It was a normal day, a little overcast, a threat of rain. I had only one errand to run. A trip to a friend's (a former co-worker of Faye's) to clean up some problems with her computer. Nothing serious, nothing ominous in the air...
I grew up without breaking a bone. I fell out of trees, tumbled down hills, fell off bicycles, engaged in any number of risky activities without ever doing more than getting an abrasion or bruise. Never even sprained an ankle until I was 19 and in the Navy (playing volleyball of all things). It is possible that I broke a finger while being tossed around by my brother when I was 5 or 6 since it is bent at an unnatural angle and I have a lump on my collarbone that might have been the result of the neighbor kid hitting me with a toy shovel when I was 4 (I remember both incidents). And there was a busted rib in the early part of the Two Year Cough (a story I am saving for later) when I was 51. But they really don't count. Not like a broken arm or leg or even an ankle.
Even later, surfing and motorcycles never got me. Oh, there were a few close calls but somehow nothing serious happened.
I lost my bone virginity yesterday. It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't even a grand event. It was a moment of absent-mindedness and stupidity that caused it. And an ottoman.
I was at a friend's house, repairing a few leftover problems with her computer. I went to go online to get a useful utility for her (Irfanview, if you must know, a fine image viewer that I highly recommend to anyone and everyone) but couldn't access the internet. I was worried that something I had done might have caused the problem. But I suspected it was the fault of the cable company. So I went around to the other side of the room to the cordless phone, picked it up, and walked back. Not paying close attention, I stumbled over the ottoman and landed squarely on my left kneecap.
When the fog of pain receded enough, when the stars cleared from my vision, as I lay there on the floor I gingerly felt my left knee and then compared it to my right. There was a difference. My left seemed to have a step down to it where the right was rounder.
Broken! My first thought was that I would not be able to play golf today.
The friend was at work, her husband had stepped out to the market to pick up a couple of things, and I lay there on the floor considering my options. I actually toyed with the idea of taking myself to the hospital. For a moment. First step was to get off the floor. I did that, setting myself on the edge the bed. The pain involved in moving the injured leg to do that simple act was enough to convince me that I could not get myself to the hospital... or even to my car outside. I would have to wait for help.
The phone I still held in my hand didn't work, thereby answering my question about the cable being at fault (they have their phone service through the cable company), and I called Faye at home. I told her what happened and asked her to have Franny drive her to me so she would be able to drive my car back home. And I waited for Joe (the friend's husband) to return. And waited. And waited. I managed to soot across the floor to where I could perhaps scoot along the floor to the door to let Faye in if she arrived first. And waited some more.
Joe arrived first. I called 9-1-1 and arranged for suitable transportation. Faye arrived just ahead of the EMTs. Lovely people, EMTs, they ask politely before cutting the pant leg covering the damaged extremity. Why they ask, I do not know, it must be done. If not by them then at the ER.
The ER is always an experience. In boredom and patience. Ten minutes seems like an hour and it is always hours before you get moved to a room or released. I was to be released to seek a good orthopedic surgeon but not until I had spent a good 3 hours waiting, lying, on a gurney being essentially ignored. I was offered pain medication and ice. I didn't care for either. I have a high tolerance for pain but I suspected I would not feel any strong pain for some time yet. I don't know why I knew that, having never broken any bones before, but I did.
Even so, they gave me a Percocet and an ice pack because they thought I would need the pain killer working before they immobilized the leg. The ice pack was pointless since it had been hours since the injury and any swelling that was to happened had already taken place.
By 4 PM, I was released and heading home sitting across the back seat of Faye's car.