Let Your Backbone SLIDE
Hey y’all…So here’s the deal…instead of typing this out a thousand and one times to everyone who asks "What happened?" I decided it may be easier to list the details here and then I can refer you all to my space when you ask the ever-present question.
So, last week’s WU mentioned that I slipped on the ice on my walk (last Thursday) and put my back out. Well, it got worse. I went to work Monday and was SO excited that evening to watch Blue Rodeo & Friends (yes, I’m THAT much of a nerd). I decided (even though it was being recorded) that I wasn’t answering the phone during the show…I’d waited too darn long to see it and wasn’t going to be disturbed. Well, about 20 minutes into the show I skipped into my bedroom to check a message. I bent over to pick up a cat’s toy off the floor and when I tried to stand up, realized I couldn’t. It wasn’t gonna happen. I was locked in place and in the worst pain I’ve ever been in (with the exception of my broken ankle/severed ligament). Thankfully, my phone was close enough where I could reach it and I called my mom – she and my dad tried to "walk me thru" suggestions: pulling myself onto the bed, rolling over, etc. Well, all that did was get me stuck half on the bed with my right leg holding me up (my pain was mostly localized to the left side). Keep in mind people, this all began around 8:20pm. Amidst my screams and cries (and partial laughter, b/c in all honesty, it was pretty funny) my mom told me to call an ambulance but I said it was no good since both doors were deadbolted. So she decided to come down and unlock the doors, see if we could render the situation better, and if all else fails, get some professional help. While I waited for her to get to my place I called Amy and she kept me company. I didn’t move. My mom showed up nearly an hour after I’d first called her and she couldn’t "fix" me. Stephanie, who’s a massage therapist, called and tried to give tips but nothing worked. Eventually I ended up having to call 911 and have an ambulance sent.
Well, the first set of EMTs arrived and I told them they weren’t allowed to make fun of me. They realized there was no way they could straighten me up to put me on the backboard and therefore had to call for "backup" (lol) so in comes a second set of EMTs (4 in total) and they have this funky chair thingy that they decide they’re gonna get me to scootch into. However, I’m not able yet to scootch since I’m still in effing excruciating pain. So, out comes the morphine. And of course Mr. Cutie-Pie EMT (Tim) can’t get the IV in. Poke once, poke twice, poke three times…I stopped counting after this. Then he told me I had soft skih (I’m sure it’s b/c he kept jabbing me with effing needles and b/c I was bawling). Now, for the morphine. One shot, two shots. Scootch. Eff sakes…I can still feel every single bit of pain but at least I’m happier about it. One of the EMTs told me I was "the funniest one we’ve ever had!" Hear that? Watch out SNL – here I come (I fear I might have to follow in John Belulshi’s footsteps – if you don’t get it, you’re too young and shouldn’t be reading this anyway). Anyways, they buckle me into this chair and take me up to the ambulance and then want me to scootch again…are you effing joking? But I did (with a little help from my new friends). It’s around 11pm. I was stuck in the same position for 2 hours. Now we’re on our way. In the ambulance comes shot 3 of morphine. Mmm. Had a good chat with Bruce, the EMT. Couldn’t tell you what we talked about, it’s kind of a blur. Now, we’re at the hospital. Scootch please. Y’know what? I think I’ve scootched enough for you people! Shot 4 of morphine. Along comes Dr. fucking Doolittle. The same moron I saw when I broke my ankle. He firsts suggests that it’s just a strain or something, so, of course me being drugged up and pissed off I start shooting my mouth off about how the last time he diagnosed something as just a "strain" I ended up with said broken ankle/severed ligament and spent 14 weeks (14 WEEKS!) on crutches before it was diagnosed properly. (This I DO remember). After a little more assessment and chit chat with the EMTs he says that I have torn the muscle away from my pelvis (and since seeing my family Dr. yesterday, may have also slipped a disc – and yes, it hurts!). Here comes the Adavant (sp?). Still can’t move. Shot 5 of morphine. I stopped counting after the first shot. Mom stopped counting after 5. Eventually I’m so high I can’t hold my head up (I was, however, able to tell my mom all kinds of things, for instance, how many times I’ve been pulled over for speeding, how many tickets I’ve received b/c of it, and what kind of crap I tell cops now that gets me out of tickets – and I swear, my excuses work!). By midnight, I was so naseaus the nurse shot me up with something else and so began the projectile vomiting. Lovely. The nurse actually said to me "your supper must be just about up now." To which I replied "I’ve puked up more food then I’ve eaten all week!"
Finally, around 12:30 or so the Dr./nurse sent me on my merry way – head down and still barfing (I barfed in the car) and all. When I got home I crawled into bed fully dressed and was out cold. 7:15am the next day I wake up (STILL HIGH as a kite) and go to the bathroom to continue my amazing stomach pyrotechnics and pass out twice. My mom had to pick me up off the floor and put me back to bed w/a barf bucket. I slept until 2pm when she forced me to get up and have been in miserable pain ever since. I finally came home yesterday (I was held prisoner at my mom and dad’s but it was for the best) but am unable to drive, sit comfortably, lay comfortably, walk comfortably, sleep comfortably (do you see the pattern here??). Anyways, Dr. said it could be up to 3 weeks before my body is healed and back to being comfortable but I’m gonna have to put a rush on it since I can’t handle being bored and immobile that long. And, unfortunately, it looks like Legends it likely out for me this weekend (mom said "Well, you can go but be careful and don’t dance" – um, it’s a bar! Can’t be careful around drunken Valley people and what’s the point of going out if ya can’t dance??) – So AMY, looks like we have a dinner date with Heather this weekend; pre-Legends. AND, no fear, the annual Oscar party is still on. See you there.