The Fall Part II

Laying in the now heated ambulance was almost more than I could take.  Tyler, my personal paramedic, worked hard to find a vein while I did my best to assure him that the pain was only excruciating.  I could tell he felt enormous pressure; with a patient in what is clearly a dead ambulance, it must have seemed a situation from his nightmares.


Within moments, I felt the small sting of the needle as he expertly slid it  into my arm.  Suddenly, I found myself struggling to breathe and the heat rising in the rescue vehicle wasn't helping matters.  Sensing my distress, Tyler gently touched my shoulder and said, "Give it a minute.  It's morphine."


I gave it a minute and then suddenly found my head floating above the house. 


I should mention the broken tile to the Bald Avenger when I get back to earth, I thought to myself, as if it was completely normal for me to be disembodied on a Tuesday in June.


When Tyler adjusted my leg on the stretcher, I felt myself pulled roughly back into the oven of an ambulance and immediately thought, Oh Father in heaven, please tell me I shaved my legs!


Attempting to reach down to check on the status of the fur on my legs, I realized suddenly that I couldn't move without mind-numbing pain.  I couldn't move my hips or my legs.  I could wiggle my toes which I did constantly to remind myself I wasn't paralyzed.  It helped but it didn't keep the fear totally at bay.


Feeling sloshy upstairs, I began to listen the Big Guy, who was standing outside the ambulance carrying on a conversation with the younger EMT. 


"Yeah, I just graduated from there.  Pretty happy to get out of high school.  Thinking about joining the Army," the Big Guy was saying.


"My mom works in the front office up there.  I bet our moms know each other," the blond  EMT responded.


Frick frick frick!  Somebody knows someone who might know me and right now, I'm drooling!


Thankfully, I heard the wail of the siren of the approaching ambulance on its way to replace the one I was currently boiling in.  Within moments, I was hurriedly being jostled from one vehicle to the next, clearly no longer floating but in that pleasant place between pain and oblivion.


Because my injury wasn't life threatening, I didn't get the sirens to the hospital.  I also found out later from the Butterbean, I didn't get lights either.  I was merely a passenger in a red and white van.  There was no special feeling beyond the one the morphine was providing on a drip-by-drip basis.


Arriving at the hospital, I was met by the Bald Avenger and the Butterbean, looking a bit panicked.  The Bald Avenger more so.  Later, when things calmed down and we were alone in the hallway my bed was left in (really), he leaned over with tears in his eyes and said, "Please, you've got to be more careful.  I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."


"You'd fix the tile on the roof over Butterbean's room," I drowsily replied.


Perplexed, he hugged me close and kissed my forehead.  


After an X-Ray and several more hours of being ignored in the hallway, I was discharged with the diagnosis of a "bruised tailbone" and a couple of admonitions to take it easy for a couple of weeks.


We knew this wasn't the case but headed home hoping that maybe we were wrong.  We weren't.  


Another hospital visit the next day and finally, complications from medications sent me to the hospital two weeks later only to discover that I had actually fractured the T11 and T12 in my thoracic spine. In total, I would go on to fracture three more over the next couple of months.  


While I can find a considerable amount humor in my situation (now), a healthy vitamin D level could have prevented it all.  We as women are bombarded with information regarding the need for calcium, but we hear almost nothing about Vitamin D.  A healthy vitamin D level is usually between 22 and 50 (google this to make sure) and mine was 12.  Praise God I didn't break anything else that day!

The Fall Part I

June 28, 2011

Summer break. 

The Big Guy had just graduated and was learning the ways of the lazy and the Butterbean was mastering the art of staying up all night and sleeping all day.  I was enjoying sleeping in: until 10 am just about everyday!

This particular Tuesday I had lollygagged in dreamland until 10:30 and when I awoke, I quickly realized I needed to put the dogs out.  Grabbing my phone and a couple of plates off the nightstand, I started down the stairs only to be stopped at the landing by my two schnauzers, Sadie and Emma, enjoying a skirmish two steps further down.  

Shooing them down because I didn't want to fall, I stood there momentarily until both had turned the corner and tore off into the kitchen.

Then I took one step...and missed.

First off, I did not know I could bounce.  For future reference, I can bounce.

Secondly, with that first bounce, I fractured my T11 and T12 vertebrae; they are in my thoracic spine if you aren't aware of their location.  I didn't have a clue where my thoracic spine was.  Just think, "middle" and you're right.

By the time I made it down to the second to the last stair, bouncing all the way, which is clearly not like jingling all the way, I could barely breathe.  This made calling the Big Guy for help nearly impossible.

For a full two or three minutes I practiced Lamaze breathing for the pain.  Hee hee hee, hoo hoo hoo.  I would punctuate my hee hoos with a wail.  It added to the drama.

Finally, I was able to begin banging the wall and within moments a clearly panicked Big Guy appeared at my side, instantly whipped out his cell phone and called the paramedics.  In all my years, I never saw someone go from terrified to calm and concerned and clearly in charge.  And he did it in mere seconds.

When I attempted to move, he appeared in front of me and with a firm but gentle grasp to the shoulders he said, "Don't."

I didn't.

Within a couple of minutes, the paramedics arrived, assessed the situation, with a sideways glance to the broken plates scattered down the steps and on the floor, and placed a cervical collar around my neck.

I know it's for my safety, but it is also clearly a device of torture.  Especially when it's 105 outside and the ambulance meant to take me to the hospital dies in the driveway...