More correctly, I nearly threw myself under a school bus yesterday. I -- being the vision of grace and poise -- slipped in the rain while crossing the street on campus and fell. Thank god the bus stopped. Because I was actually injured it took me a few moments to collect myself and become restored to an upright position. The bus driver actually got off the bus to come see if I was okay. Her exact words were: "I can't believe you got up by yourself!"
In stunned silence I proceeded to my car where I sat and cried for a few minutes then pulled it together long enough to determine that I might actually need the emergency room. So I drove myself, in rain and traffic all the way home. Why would I do such a thing when I work in the Texas Medical Center? BECAUSE I work in the Texas Medical Center! The last thing I wanted to do is set in a massive waiting room with thugs with stab wounds, 12-year-old mothers-to-be in labor and children with the flu. FOR SIX HOURS. So I opted to make the seven-mile drive home in crazy traffic and rain so the Aggie could cart me to the local emergency center.
Turns out that going home was the best idea I've ever had. The ER center was soooo nice -- complete with immediate attention, kind staff AND flat screen televisions. You see, I am very particular about certain things. Hospitals and health care are one something I am very, very peculiar about. If I am not absolutely comfortable and at ease with what's around me I will totally freak out. (And after what I experienced with my Tree, I am horrified of ending up forgotten by mean nurses in the rattiest ward on the 22nd floor of a monolithic hospital.) No one was more surprised than me at the quality of care AND my ability to NOT LOOSE MY SHIT.
In less than one-hour, I was admitted, reclined in bed, saw three nurses, a radiologist, a trauma doctor, had x-rays, filled out paperwork, been diagnosed, treated and discharged. It was a delightful experience. Except for the aching knee, which I'm told by the GREATEST EMERGENCY MEDICAL DOCTOR IN THE WORLD that is riddled with advanced arthritis. He says I have the knee of a 50 year old. And that the sprain is going to hurt worse because of all the bad cartilage. I have to go to an orthopedic surgeon in the next couple of weeks and Trauma Doc (who didn't even try to hurt my feelings when he said I was fat) said that I might can postpone it for now, but eventually I'll have to have surgery of some sort. For now, probably to just clean out all the crap, but in the future I'll eventually need a knee replacement.
He said this is an old injury. Something I've had for a decade. Immediately I knew what caused this. (Madge tells the story with so much more animation than I.) The short of it is: About ten years ago, I walked off a stage wearing spandex and twirling a flag. Yes, ten years ago I was still fat, and yes, I still wore the spandex. In addition to incredibly damaging my pride by turning myself into a giant, Lycra spectacle, I really messed up my ankle. I remember having the knee pain then, but my ankle was in such a mess the doctors ignored the knee issues. And my ankle hurt so much that I didn't really care about anything else on my body. I'd fallen hard and most of me hurt in some way.
So I'm not shocked I did this. I mean, its not like this was my first incident falling. Actually, I'd tripped in the same spot crossing the same street about a year ago. My office mates want to erect a historical marking commemorating my hijynxs. If they only knew! Once I fell down an entire set of bleachers. But alas, that is a story for another day, and one Madge also tells much better.
2 comments:
Even though I was thrown into a small panic when I thought you had blown out your knee, you have caused me to laugh out loud to think of the bleachers, and the stage. And your right, I do tell both of those stories with much more humor and animation than you do!
Glad your OK!
I'm glad you're okay, but the story was too funny. I see you havent lost your style.
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