October 02, 2006

"3 broken toes"

That was the initial diagnosis by the Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) Trainee that examined me this morning after a stupid guy on a cell phone rammed a door into my foot. This was after spending almost 3 hours overnight throwing up and laying in bed with stomach cramps till 4am from what I believe was a case of food poisoning.

So as I held onto the door, for fear of collapsing in pain, I wished that guy would experience Karmic retribution soon for what heÂ’d done. He quickly went on his way while everyone else around me just stopped and stared in amazement. One woman said as if I wasnÂ’t there: "Wow, she didn't yell, she didnÂ’t curseÂ… she didnÂ’t even cry. I would have at least called the guy a stupid m^%$#@*ker!" Well, just because I didnÂ’t say it didnÂ’t mean I didnÂ’tÂ’ think it.

Actually I didn't do any of those things because I was focusing all my attention on my injury, assessing my situation trying to figure out if I could stand let alone walk on it. The truth was I couldnÂ’t. So there I was, in the lobby of my building, waiting for the cavalry in the form of EMT's.

After the initial examination and prognosis by Jr. EMT, I was given 2 options. The first was to go by ambulance with them to the local emergency room. The 2nd was to refuse their care and see my own Dr. For me the decision was easy but I had to make sure that either one of my DrÂ’s or someone at headquarters could see me. Unfortunately for me, being a Jewish holiday meant that my doctors weren't in.

I will do anything in order to avoid going to a Hospital's emergency room...
A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G! While the rookie EMT was conferring with the experienced EMT and finishing up my paperwork I called the medical office at our headquarters 2 blocks away to let them know I would be coming over and in what condition. Being the resourceful chick that I am, I called in a few favors and got taken in a wheelchair by 2 guys who are (terrific former Marines) on our security staff. Our medical office is staffed by well qualified and very experienced, PA's, PT's and RN's. The guys stuck around and tried to make light of the situation by telling me of their injuries during their last deployment. How could I think of even complaining after that?

By the time the nurse saw me, one of my toes was turning black and blue and the rest of my injured toes were swelling up. Even though I was still in some pain, I still believed that my toes were not broken, hairline fracture maybe, but not broken.

The nurse was the first to try to examine me, but since I was squirming and moving too much she wasnÂ’t able to finish and called in the PhysicianÂ’s Asst. for help. He too was unable to complete the exam as I was by then writhing. He in turn called in the PT to see if he would have better luck with me. After I calmed down a bit I explained that I had been through this before so I asked if they had any type of topical anesthetic on hand.

After the PT sprayed me with the anesthetic, they placed bags of ice on both sides of my foot so they could numb my foot and eventually examine me without me thrashing about. It was only after my foot was completely numb that they were able to check my toes and my foot without me thrashing and crying out in both pain and hysterical laughter. At one point I had all the staff laughing hysterically with me as they had never seen anything like it.

Yes, I know itÂ’s strange, what can I say, I have extremely sensitive feet. Whenever anyone touches my feet I start giggling like mad, and if they continue, within a minute I break out into uncontrollable hysterical laughter. My security escorts thought it was so strange to hear me in such a hysterical fit of laughter instead of crying that they asked to come in and see me. I was laughing so hard when they walked in that they eventually started laughing too. I was laughing so hard I couldnÂ’t even speak.

As the guys closed the door to the taxi that was taking me home I overheard one of them say to the other: “that’s one hell of an area to have an erogenous zone.” I wanted to tell them 'nope that's one hell of an area to have a hysterical funny zone.' What they don’t know is whenever I want to laugh that hard all I have to do is get a pedicure or go to buy shoes and I’m left smiling and giggling for the rest of the afternoon.

BTW, the diagnosis: hairline fracture in 1 toe. Result: IÂ’m wearing an iddy biddy splint and a smile!

Posted by: Michele at 11:57 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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