Friends taking a look at the blog!


From Skating to Surgery - and again, the Angels we meet.

          *Big disclaimer as the name of the doctor in this story has been changed for good reason. 

      It was Patrick’s thirteenth birthday.  Like all good moms, I wanted to throw him a party.  I thought having a roller skating party would be good and all I needed was the cake and the kids. I enlisted my best friend Liz who was the queen of birthday parties to help me with this endeavor and of course, she gladly obliged.  

       It was a Saturday and the party was to be from one in the afternoon to four. I loved skating as a kid and was very good at it. I had kept the party to only a few of Patrick’s friends.  One of his friends had not really skated before and I enjoyed “teaching” her how to skate.  The party was going along great and we were just about done in an hour or so when I was going around the rink when the girl I was helping to skate grabbed the back of my sleeve and pulled me down. One of the last memories before that was me seeing my feet up in the air and seriously thinking, this can’t be good.

      I landed on my wrist and thought, why can’t I get up. I then looked down to see my wrist was at a ninety degree angle. Not wanting to upset my son at his birthday party, I just kept saying, “it’s ok - go eat the cake!” My friend Liz came over and her face said it all. This was bad. Enter angel number one, a paramedic who was there with his son skating. He immediately told me not to try to pick up my wrist. He got a board to put under it and they “scooped” my wrist up to the office. Oh the management. They kept saying, “you know this is not our fault and you skate at your own risk.” Gee, thanks.  I told Patrick that I would be fine that I was going to get it “checked out.” Liz graciously offered to drive me so that my husband (and hers) could wrap up the party. 

               We got to the hospital and you know emergency rooms, you wait forever. Then I got x-rays and even the technician got squeamish looking at my wrist. I was put in the back of the ER and met second angel *Jeanette. She was the nurse on call that day. She kept saying how was I not passed out from the pain. I kept myself positive that I would be ok. Liz never left my side. Jeanette had called the orthopedic doctor on call to have him come immediately to the hospital to take care of my wrist. That was at four in the afternoon. The doctor said he was busy and he would get there as soon as he could. Two hours later, Liz got me some food so I could try some pain medicine. Another call to the doctor and still the same response that he was busy. Jeanette then sat down next to me and looked around and said, “do you know about patient rights?” I said I had no idea what she was talking about. She basically said that if I did not like the doctor prior to him starting care, that I could refuse his service. Hmm….interesting.

       At eight thirty pm, enter *Dr. Nutso.   He finally shows up all six foot three tall and wide. Comes in and sees me sitting on a chair outside an examining room and barks at me to get in here and sit on the examining table. Now please picture my friend Liz who on a good day, is five foot nothing. She helps me on the table and the doctor tries to push me down and says, “let me just put some medicine in your wrist and we’ll cast it up and you’ll be home soon!” Anyone (including myself) could see that it was much more serious than that. Then Jeanette over his shoulder mouthed “patient rights.” I then took my wrist away and said I was refusing service. He got in my face and told me how dare I tear him away from his dinner to just refuse his service. Dinner? I’m dying here with a broken wrist and you’re eating? Liz then took control. My little sergeant. She looked up at him and got in between us and started yelling at him to get away from me and how dare he make us wait. I can still see her looking up and pointing her finger at him.

       Thankfully, the doctor walked out huffing and puffing. I never saw him again. I did require surgery that had my wrist in four metal rods that were in for eight weeks. The doctors said I would be lucky to retain only fifty three percent usage at best. I retained ninety five percent usage, thank you. I know my thoughts of staying positive combined with the positive people that we’re put in my path, kept  me sane. Haven’t skated since then but you never know…..maybe one day. Until next time, ton o’ blessings to ya.

No comments:

Post a Comment