The Big Break Part Deux: Electric Boogaloo
So I was thinking a little more about that fateful day two years ago (see previous post) and thought I'd share.
Once at the hospital it took what seemed like an eternity for them to see me. My husband was having a hard time getting me inside (again, huge and heavy) he ran in for a wheelchair then the fun began.
I was wheeled in, asked about 10 questions and then told to wait. Wait? I felt like my foot was about to fall off. But wait I did because what the hell else can ya do? I was wheeled to x-ray at some point and asked to hop up on the table. Uhh ya. Then the tech says "Any chance you are pregnant?" I'm thinking, "This isn't a basketball under my shirt lady!" But I kindly said, "why yes, in fact, it's my due date." "Umm, wow." was all she could muster. She threw the lead apron of death over my belly and we were on our way. She came back a few minutes later and said absolutely nothing. Okay, why do they torture you like this? Just tell me already! I finally asked her after a long silence "How does it look?" "Looks like you'll be delivering in a cast!" I thought she was a little abrupt but at least I had a partial answer.
Next I'm wheeled down to some kind of "holding room." Here's where the hell began. After being left alone in this room for at least 45 minutes I get the attention of a nurse and ask if she can get my husband. She says he can't come in but she'll let him know I'm okay - mind you, this is a small town, smallish hospital and I am one of the only people in the ER on a Sunday afternoon. There are 3 or 4 nurses out in the hall talking, playing games and watching the Bills game. What's the big fucking deal?
10 mintues later a nurse "sneaks in" my husband and daughter (suddenly it's okay apparently). And I sit longer and longer. Finally my husband ventures into the hall to see what we're waiting for. "Oh, the orthopedist is on call and we're waiting for him to arrive, didn't anyone tell you?" Uh, no. So I wait some more.
This next part is the worst. The orthopedist comes in, takes one look and asks me to follow him to the cast room - then takes off. Dude, I am in a wheelchair, 9 months pregnant with what I'm assuming is a broken ankle (becasue no one has actually told me yet). But he's gone... so.. what can I do? I very slowly wheel myself down the hall and have to ask a nurse where the cast room is (the doc is long gone). She motions and I clumsily wheel through a doorway. He looks at me with that "where'd ya go?" look. WTF?
So, on my cast goes. I think he asked me where I worked and that was the extent of the conversation. Again, there is a longish silence so I say, "So... how long will this be on?" "4 weeks" he says. "And... did I break my ankle bone or...?" "Yes, it's your ankle." And that was it. He left. I later got instructions from the ER nurse on the doctor's name and where I'd need to call for a follow up appointment. Unreal.
The pain of this was almost unbearable and no meds meant no relief, uggh. I guess someone was trying to keep me off my feet for a while (okay, so I tend to overdo it sometimes - did I mention I was working full time and going to school full time too?) 4 weeks later I was fine. The doc cut off the cast (again, said about 3 words to me) and I never saw him again. Two years later the ankle is almost like brand new (with an occasional ache or pain). And the baby? - he'll be two on Sunday. Happy Birthday Pete!
Once at the hospital it took what seemed like an eternity for them to see me. My husband was having a hard time getting me inside (again, huge and heavy) he ran in for a wheelchair then the fun began.
I was wheeled in, asked about 10 questions and then told to wait. Wait? I felt like my foot was about to fall off. But wait I did because what the hell else can ya do? I was wheeled to x-ray at some point and asked to hop up on the table. Uhh ya. Then the tech says "Any chance you are pregnant?" I'm thinking, "This isn't a basketball under my shirt lady!" But I kindly said, "why yes, in fact, it's my due date." "Umm, wow." was all she could muster. She threw the lead apron of death over my belly and we were on our way. She came back a few minutes later and said absolutely nothing. Okay, why do they torture you like this? Just tell me already! I finally asked her after a long silence "How does it look?" "Looks like you'll be delivering in a cast!" I thought she was a little abrupt but at least I had a partial answer.
Next I'm wheeled down to some kind of "holding room." Here's where the hell began. After being left alone in this room for at least 45 minutes I get the attention of a nurse and ask if she can get my husband. She says he can't come in but she'll let him know I'm okay - mind you, this is a small town, smallish hospital and I am one of the only people in the ER on a Sunday afternoon. There are 3 or 4 nurses out in the hall talking, playing games and watching the Bills game. What's the big fucking deal?
10 mintues later a nurse "sneaks in" my husband and daughter (suddenly it's okay apparently). And I sit longer and longer. Finally my husband ventures into the hall to see what we're waiting for. "Oh, the orthopedist is on call and we're waiting for him to arrive, didn't anyone tell you?" Uh, no. So I wait some more.
This next part is the worst. The orthopedist comes in, takes one look and asks me to follow him to the cast room - then takes off. Dude, I am in a wheelchair, 9 months pregnant with what I'm assuming is a broken ankle (becasue no one has actually told me yet). But he's gone... so.. what can I do? I very slowly wheel myself down the hall and have to ask a nurse where the cast room is (the doc is long gone). She motions and I clumsily wheel through a doorway. He looks at me with that "where'd ya go?" look. WTF?
So, on my cast goes. I think he asked me where I worked and that was the extent of the conversation. Again, there is a longish silence so I say, "So... how long will this be on?" "4 weeks" he says. "And... did I break my ankle bone or...?" "Yes, it's your ankle." And that was it. He left. I later got instructions from the ER nurse on the doctor's name and where I'd need to call for a follow up appointment. Unreal.
The pain of this was almost unbearable and no meds meant no relief, uggh. I guess someone was trying to keep me off my feet for a while (okay, so I tend to overdo it sometimes - did I mention I was working full time and going to school full time too?) 4 weeks later I was fine. The doc cut off the cast (again, said about 3 words to me) and I never saw him again. Two years later the ankle is almost like brand new (with an occasional ache or pain). And the baby? - he'll be two on Sunday. Happy Birthday Pete!
Look at my sweet Petie! I can't wait to give him a hug! :)
Posted by
Sherri |
11:10 AM