First I screamed and then I knew I was going to die. The pain exploding
through my body was more than I could bear. I didn't know what had
happened but it was something really bad. Everything went black in
front of my eyes. I felt my head falling backwards.
"Breathe. Breathe normally. Breathe."
P's voice seemed to come from a long way away. I forced myself to take a breath.
"Try and wiggle your toes for me."
I wiggled.
"Now you're hyper-ventilating, breathe normally and try to stop crying."
I tried.
"Get a pillow and put it under her head," P was saying to J "now support her ankle while I straighten her leg."
It occurred to me that I wasn't dead. It also occurred to me that marrying a trained First-Aider had been quite a good idea.
Somehow P and J lifted me into the wheelchair and with the leg straightened, bandaged and supported the pain was just about bearable.
"There's a dent in your knee-cap, we're going to have to go to hospital."
I tried to process what he'd said - a dent in my knee-cap?
He dialled 999.
"I think my wife's fractured her patella ... patella ... you know... her knee-cap."
I sighed.
J left his lunch on the table and went to wait on the main road to make sure the ambulance didn't miss our drive.
P and I sat in the kitchen and waited. 'We need prayer.' I thought. If people were praying for us then we would make it through this. We sent a few texts then prayed with each other. Then we waited. I contemplated the fact that my legs were soon to be scrutinised by strangers:
"Could you just get my shaver from the bathroom?"
"What?"
After an hour two paramedics arrived. The older one looked at my balloon shaped knee:
"You're going to hospital."
"Oh good, I'm going to be able to give my first morphine injection," said the younger one, a trainee.
The older one phoned for an ambulance and told them it was an emergency. Then we all sat in our kitchen and waited for two more hours which seemed a bit of a waste of their time really but apparently it's the rules - they had to stay with me until I was handed over at the hospital. I breathed in lots of gas-and-air which certainly brought back memories.
Finally I was carried out on a stretcher through our French doors , which was a bit scary - I thought I might fall off - and on my way. The first part of being in A & E went remarkably quickly - painkillers, brief chat with a nurse, x-ray...
"Hmm, I've seen quite alot of knee x-rays but I've never actually seen one quite this bad" said the nurse reassuringly "look there's 1,2,3,4 pieces and possibly something going on down here as well. I think they might want to keep you in."
They would put it in a temporary plaster they said, to make it more comfortable. A doctor appeared with a syringe.
"We need to reduce the swelling first by withdrawing the blood."
Whacking great needle, stuck in my knee, clanking against the broken bones...me muttering about the possibility of gas-and-air, the doctor ignoring me. This is what they call being 'more comfortable'?
Two ladies appeared with a large bucket and slapped plaster over my leg which felt quite warm and soothing. They were going to operate in the morning, nothing to eat after 3 am but we could go and see if we could find a sandwich as I hadn't eaten since breakfast, then come back and they'd put me on a trolley. It was just after 8 pm the shops and cafes were shut but eventually we found a vending machine down a dingy corridor. Never had a ham roll tasted so good.
Back to the waiting room - and sitting in the wheelchair for 3 hours. No sign of a trolley. I was still shaking from the shock and my neck was in desperate need of support. P asked if there was a cushion available and they gave him a sheet - not quite the same. Eventually he went and pleaded with the receptionist - his wife had M.E., she'd been sitting on a wheelchair with a broken knee for 11 hours, was there not a trolley somehere in the hospital she could lie on? After a short while we were told I could spend the night on a trolley in the 'Day-Stay Ward' which seemed a bit of a contradiction in terms really. I was wheeled into a dark, nearly empty ward and transferrred to a trolley which had sheets and blankets on it. I lay back in relief. A nurse appeared with a whole booklet of questions for me to answer so I could be 'admitted'.
Finally she finished and despite the discomfort of the cast I slipped into sleep.
"Breathe. Breathe normally. Breathe."
P's voice seemed to come from a long way away. I forced myself to take a breath.
"Try and wiggle your toes for me."
I wiggled.
"Now you're hyper-ventilating, breathe normally and try to stop crying."
I tried.
"Get a pillow and put it under her head," P was saying to J "now support her ankle while I straighten her leg."
It occurred to me that I wasn't dead. It also occurred to me that marrying a trained First-Aider had been quite a good idea.
Somehow P and J lifted me into the wheelchair and with the leg straightened, bandaged and supported the pain was just about bearable.
"There's a dent in your knee-cap, we're going to have to go to hospital."
I tried to process what he'd said - a dent in my knee-cap?
He dialled 999.
"I think my wife's fractured her patella ... patella ... you know... her knee-cap."
I sighed.
J left his lunch on the table and went to wait on the main road to make sure the ambulance didn't miss our drive.
P and I sat in the kitchen and waited. 'We need prayer.' I thought. If people were praying for us then we would make it through this. We sent a few texts then prayed with each other. Then we waited. I contemplated the fact that my legs were soon to be scrutinised by strangers:
"Could you just get my shaver from the bathroom?"
"What?"
After an hour two paramedics arrived. The older one looked at my balloon shaped knee:
"You're going to hospital."
"Oh good, I'm going to be able to give my first morphine injection," said the younger one, a trainee.
The older one phoned for an ambulance and told them it was an emergency. Then we all sat in our kitchen and waited for two more hours which seemed a bit of a waste of their time really but apparently it's the rules - they had to stay with me until I was handed over at the hospital. I breathed in lots of gas-and-air which certainly brought back memories.
Finally I was carried out on a stretcher through our French doors , which was a bit scary - I thought I might fall off - and on my way. The first part of being in A & E went remarkably quickly - painkillers, brief chat with a nurse, x-ray...
"Hmm, I've seen quite alot of knee x-rays but I've never actually seen one quite this bad" said the nurse reassuringly "look there's 1,2,3,4 pieces and possibly something going on down here as well. I think they might want to keep you in."
They would put it in a temporary plaster they said, to make it more comfortable. A doctor appeared with a syringe.
"We need to reduce the swelling first by withdrawing the blood."
Whacking great needle, stuck in my knee, clanking against the broken bones...me muttering about the possibility of gas-and-air, the doctor ignoring me. This is what they call being 'more comfortable'?
Two ladies appeared with a large bucket and slapped plaster over my leg which felt quite warm and soothing. They were going to operate in the morning, nothing to eat after 3 am but we could go and see if we could find a sandwich as I hadn't eaten since breakfast, then come back and they'd put me on a trolley. It was just after 8 pm the shops and cafes were shut but eventually we found a vending machine down a dingy corridor. Never had a ham roll tasted so good.
Back to the waiting room - and sitting in the wheelchair for 3 hours. No sign of a trolley. I was still shaking from the shock and my neck was in desperate need of support. P asked if there was a cushion available and they gave him a sheet - not quite the same. Eventually he went and pleaded with the receptionist - his wife had M.E., she'd been sitting on a wheelchair with a broken knee for 11 hours, was there not a trolley somehere in the hospital she could lie on? After a short while we were told I could spend the night on a trolley in the 'Day-Stay Ward' which seemed a bit of a contradiction in terms really. I was wheeled into a dark, nearly empty ward and transferrred to a trolley which had sheets and blankets on it. I lay back in relief. A nurse appeared with a whole booklet of questions for me to answer so I could be 'admitted'.
Finally she finished and despite the discomfort of the cast I slipped into sleep.
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