I got womanhandled into A&E yesterday.
To be fair, I didn’t put up much of a struggle. I was in too much pain. What I didn’t expect was for A&E to make it more sore.
It seems that Sunday mornings are the best time to take your child to A&E. There were at least a million of them. They were noisy. Some bored girls played I Spy with their mother.
“Cassie, you go first.”
“Ok. Uhm…I spy…. with my…. little eye…lots of sick people!”
The excess children meant I had to wait for an hour to see a doctor.
This, for me, is not a problem. Except that sitting was incredibly painful. I managed it for a good 40 minutes, distracting myself with reading comments and watching stats from my last post. Your lovely comments made it bearable.
Eventually, I had to stand. Things got easier then. Time simply pressed the accelerator and flew by. After what felt like no time at all – though I’d been standing for 30 minutes – I was summoned.
As I walked past the nurse she said “I could tell it was you – you’re the only one not sitting down!”
She proceeded to offer me a seat, then say “But wait, you can’t! I think you can stand.”. It’s funny how offering someone a seat is considered to be so polite it’s ingrained in us.
After a few questions and clarifications, I was sent to stand in the nurses area and “read the posters on the wall”. They were very boring. A doctor called me over. She seemed very confused as to why I couldn’t take a seat. She figured it out in the end.
“Oh of course, I’m so sorry, would you mind lying down?”
“Sure, but I can only lie on my stomach or side.”
With my face suffocating in the pillow, she asks me more questions. And then starts to hit my back.
Bang. Top of my neck.
“So how did you injure yourself?”
“mghfgfhnnn mmm.” I turn my head. Bang. She hits between my shoulder blades. She’s not really going to…. “I slipped down the stairs.”
Bang. Middle of my spine. Please god, don’t let her hit that hard too much lower.
“I see, where you drunk?”
As if. Bang, just above my bum. Seriously she better not go any lower…”No, someone called me and I turned…”
Everything goes a funny shade of pink. I think I muttered “ow.” She goes “oh I’m sorry, is it here?” and prods it.
Now, for the last 36 hours I have been unable to move that part of my body. It has been stiff and swollen and fucking painful. I moved it when her finger touched. There was no way I was hanging around waiting for her to push harder. I wrenched my body sideways, everything screaming.
Or, so I thought I did. All I managed to do was wiggle my bum unappealingly. An improvement nonetheless.
She then proceeded to prod my bottom in a manner that could have been enjoyable – if you ignored the consistent stabs of pain emanating from the tips of her fingers.
“Ok, Can you roll over onto your back for me?”
Why am I such a pleaser?
“Uh…ok. I guess I can try.”
She kept talking. I know she had questions but I don’t recall them – I was trying very hard to levitate. When this failed, I proceeded to spin, slowly, passing the pain from one side of my body to the other. As I settled, it did too – in the middle of my bum.
I breathed the pain out. This was…manageable.
“Can you take your shoes off?”
I started laughing. The alternative was swearing and crying.
“Uh no, would you mind? I can’t…reach.”
“Oh! Of course.”
She then proceeded to squeeze, tickle, prod and pinch my feet. I hope they stank. At least she verified I hadn’t damaged any nerves.
She lifted my legs and checked where the pain started. I wasn’t too surprised to discover my right leg can only rise up by about 45 degrees – my left leg has almost full movement, but bending the foot causes pain.
Finally she finished her investigation. She dosed me up with a billion tons of Panadol, a few milligrams of anti-inflammatories, and a referral for a physio.
She did forget to put my shoes back on.
So I walked out – shoeless – in more pain than when I entered.
However, they had done all that they could. And I’d been given pain killers, anti-inflammatories and a referral for free physiotherapy.
I think I might be alright.