The ankle post - Part 1
A certain fish wanted me to make a post, so I make one late. The story of my ankle, or how Sapphire didn't move to LA, but sorta did for three months, and still can't walk.
So on August 28th, a co-worker gave me a ride to the airport (seeing as my parents had need of my car, with father's car being in the shop for like a month already waiting for a part), as I was off to LA for about five days. The plan:
1. Visit boyfriend
2. Go to the birthday party for boyfriend's friend daughter, possibly see BF's sisters, who I hadn't seen in oh, probably 15 years.
3. See aunt and her family before cousin headed back east for college
4. Visit college roomie and her brood and spend the day reading books in several languages to said brood, in between snippets of adult conversation.
5. Go to Disneyland on Monday, including our Annual Passport holder retention after-hours party.
6. Head back to Dallas midday Tuesday (so as to not have to wake up at 4 AM to get to the airport), and go back to work on Wednesday.
We made it to step 2. The party (which we were VERY LATE TO) was at a bounce house place. Pump it Up I think it was called. All sorts of inflatable stuff, elaborate bounce houses, slides, climbing walls. And yes, adults could use them too, just no shoes and you had to wear socks. Of course because we were LATE, we missed out on the first room. And because of LATE, we hadn't eaten, but it was ok, because we were meeting my aunt and family right after the party (which provided pizza ONLY FOR THE KIDS - in the contract, not the parents' fault!), but that was in room #3, after the kids had tired themselves out. But hey, we came to the party, with our presents of a Frozen board game and a cute stuffed monkey, we did meet one of BF's sisters, and we took our shoes off and climbed and slid, and jumped. Even me in my adorable Star Wars Bad Guy Heart dress. BF proved he still remembered some stuff from having a giant trampoline in college, I mostly just bounced, and watched the birthday girl and her friends link arms and yell "3-2-1-BLAST OFF" as they jumped from an inflated platform to the main bouncy area. Over and over again giggling.
I will note plenty of people, both kids and adults did this jump. Some landing on their feet, others on their butts. And so, despite my fear of falling from heights, I decided that before I left this one bouncy enclosure, I would try this jump. Let's just say my fear of falling was completely justified. I jumped. I landed, feet first, then my butt. BF who watched said my sock slipped and my foot kept going. I know that for the first time in my life, I landed and I heard a CRACK as I did. And then the pain. THE. PAIN. Horrible terrible pain, and thanks to surgery, I have experienced some high level, give her some morphine pain in my life. And this was BAD. I couldn't get up. And when I glanced at my socked right foot, I knew it was not ok at all. I could SEE it was not bending where it was supposed to. It was so bad that looking at it made me cry and scream more than the pain, because it was a sign that This Was Not Just A Sprain.
I had to be carried out of the enclosure by two people, not an easy task, given that you know, it was a bounce house. They aren't designed to be just walked across. And then carried to a chair while trying to dodge all the small children, in a play area where the main lights had been turned off so everything could glow in black light, where any time anything touched my foot I would scream and then cover my mouth because I was trying to not terrify all the 4 and 5 year-olds running around. And let's just say the staff? Not so helpful. It is a place where people launch themselves around all day and it was like they'd never seen an injury before. "Uh, would you like some ice...?" YES I WOULD LIKE SOME ICE ARE YOU INSANE. They also kept insisting they couldn't let us use a rolling chair to get me outside (someone found a manager and got THAT taken car of at least.) Everyone was like, well if it hurts that much it can't be broken, it must be a sprain! (But I had heard a crack. I knew this wasn't a sprain.) (Also BF's other sister apparently turned up just as this all happened. I found this out almost three months later.)
Now if you've ever heard the story of the flying outdoor heater cover, the Rose Parade and my nose, you know I have a Thing about ambulances. Which is, unless I need the services of the EMTs in said ambulance, do not call one for me, drive me to a hospital because THEY ARE TOO EXPENSIVE. And tack on surcharges for everything. (The Rose Parade incident tacked on, after hours, Sunday AND Holiday surcharges. EXCUSE ME?) However BF drives a Miata, so there was much to do about how to get me to hospital, which was at least nearby, but eventually they managed to place me in the Miata, with a giant dog cushion from the sister's van to protect my foot and off we went (the sister following.) ER fun, luckily I almost always have my insurance card, no I can't stand on scale, blah blah wait, eventually get wheeled to the back. Pain is terrible. They take off my sock. Foot looks terrible, swollen, bent, pain is worse. While I am left there waiting on doctors I count to I don't remember what in Japanese to try and distract myself.
The nurse gives me a shot of morphine. It does NOTHING. I become despondent. They finally take me to an X-Ray. Every time I have to move the foot I fight back screams. And then, back to the corner to wait on a radiologist, which they warn, can take over 90 minutes. I will now point out that in the middle of this I get to hear someone threatening ER staff with violence and a mom who is super anxious for the doctors to prescribe her son something but NOW because she has an APPOINTMENT to get to. I was placed in such a weird corner that people literally cannot find me. The radiologist walked by my area twice before realizing I was there. He asked what I did. I explained. He said "You know it looks like your ankle was hit by car." I tried not to sob. At LEAST two fractures, 99% chance I would need surgery. Need to see an orthopedist ASAP. Did I mention it was Saturday? Evening? And I was in Los Angeles?
So the ER did what ERs do, and put me in a splint, all the way up to mid-thigh, which meant I couldn't bend my knee. Such fun! They handed me copies of the X-rays, some names of doctors, and some prescriptions for pain pills and sent me on my way. Except that for about three minutes, we couldn't even figure out how to get me into the Miata, with that whole, no bending knee thing. And then after FINALLY eating in the parking lot of a McDonalds, we headed over to his sister's house, given that BF lives in a second floor condo and HAHAHAHAHAHAH, stairs, and she was nice enough to let us use her spare bedroom. (One of her greyhounds, who had claimed the bed as her own upon moving in, was quite put out that she was not consulted about this.)
Needless to say, I did not see my aunt that night, or my friend the next day. More later, I have to go look for a sock.
So on August 28th, a co-worker gave me a ride to the airport (seeing as my parents had need of my car, with father's car being in the shop for like a month already waiting for a part), as I was off to LA for about five days. The plan:
1. Visit boyfriend
2. Go to the birthday party for boyfriend's friend daughter, possibly see BF's sisters, who I hadn't seen in oh, probably 15 years.
3. See aunt and her family before cousin headed back east for college
4. Visit college roomie and her brood and spend the day reading books in several languages to said brood, in between snippets of adult conversation.
5. Go to Disneyland on Monday, including our Annual Passport holder retention after-hours party.
6. Head back to Dallas midday Tuesday (so as to not have to wake up at 4 AM to get to the airport), and go back to work on Wednesday.
We made it to step 2. The party (which we were VERY LATE TO) was at a bounce house place. Pump it Up I think it was called. All sorts of inflatable stuff, elaborate bounce houses, slides, climbing walls. And yes, adults could use them too, just no shoes and you had to wear socks. Of course because we were LATE, we missed out on the first room. And because of LATE, we hadn't eaten, but it was ok, because we were meeting my aunt and family right after the party (which provided pizza ONLY FOR THE KIDS - in the contract, not the parents' fault!), but that was in room #3, after the kids had tired themselves out. But hey, we came to the party, with our presents of a Frozen board game and a cute stuffed monkey, we did meet one of BF's sisters, and we took our shoes off and climbed and slid, and jumped. Even me in my adorable Star Wars Bad Guy Heart dress. BF proved he still remembered some stuff from having a giant trampoline in college, I mostly just bounced, and watched the birthday girl and her friends link arms and yell "3-2-1-BLAST OFF" as they jumped from an inflated platform to the main bouncy area. Over and over again giggling.
I will note plenty of people, both kids and adults did this jump. Some landing on their feet, others on their butts. And so, despite my fear of falling from heights, I decided that before I left this one bouncy enclosure, I would try this jump. Let's just say my fear of falling was completely justified. I jumped. I landed, feet first, then my butt. BF who watched said my sock slipped and my foot kept going. I know that for the first time in my life, I landed and I heard a CRACK as I did. And then the pain. THE. PAIN. Horrible terrible pain, and thanks to surgery, I have experienced some high level, give her some morphine pain in my life. And this was BAD. I couldn't get up. And when I glanced at my socked right foot, I knew it was not ok at all. I could SEE it was not bending where it was supposed to. It was so bad that looking at it made me cry and scream more than the pain, because it was a sign that This Was Not Just A Sprain.
I had to be carried out of the enclosure by two people, not an easy task, given that you know, it was a bounce house. They aren't designed to be just walked across. And then carried to a chair while trying to dodge all the small children, in a play area where the main lights had been turned off so everything could glow in black light, where any time anything touched my foot I would scream and then cover my mouth because I was trying to not terrify all the 4 and 5 year-olds running around. And let's just say the staff? Not so helpful. It is a place where people launch themselves around all day and it was like they'd never seen an injury before. "Uh, would you like some ice...?" YES I WOULD LIKE SOME ICE ARE YOU INSANE. They also kept insisting they couldn't let us use a rolling chair to get me outside (someone found a manager and got THAT taken car of at least.) Everyone was like, well if it hurts that much it can't be broken, it must be a sprain! (But I had heard a crack. I knew this wasn't a sprain.) (Also BF's other sister apparently turned up just as this all happened. I found this out almost three months later.)
Now if you've ever heard the story of the flying outdoor heater cover, the Rose Parade and my nose, you know I have a Thing about ambulances. Which is, unless I need the services of the EMTs in said ambulance, do not call one for me, drive me to a hospital because THEY ARE TOO EXPENSIVE. And tack on surcharges for everything. (The Rose Parade incident tacked on, after hours, Sunday AND Holiday surcharges. EXCUSE ME?) However BF drives a Miata, so there was much to do about how to get me to hospital, which was at least nearby, but eventually they managed to place me in the Miata, with a giant dog cushion from the sister's van to protect my foot and off we went (the sister following.) ER fun, luckily I almost always have my insurance card, no I can't stand on scale, blah blah wait, eventually get wheeled to the back. Pain is terrible. They take off my sock. Foot looks terrible, swollen, bent, pain is worse. While I am left there waiting on doctors I count to I don't remember what in Japanese to try and distract myself.
The nurse gives me a shot of morphine. It does NOTHING. I become despondent. They finally take me to an X-Ray. Every time I have to move the foot I fight back screams. And then, back to the corner to wait on a radiologist, which they warn, can take over 90 minutes. I will now point out that in the middle of this I get to hear someone threatening ER staff with violence and a mom who is super anxious for the doctors to prescribe her son something but NOW because she has an APPOINTMENT to get to. I was placed in such a weird corner that people literally cannot find me. The radiologist walked by my area twice before realizing I was there. He asked what I did. I explained. He said "You know it looks like your ankle was hit by car." I tried not to sob. At LEAST two fractures, 99% chance I would need surgery. Need to see an orthopedist ASAP. Did I mention it was Saturday? Evening? And I was in Los Angeles?
So the ER did what ERs do, and put me in a splint, all the way up to mid-thigh, which meant I couldn't bend my knee. Such fun! They handed me copies of the X-rays, some names of doctors, and some prescriptions for pain pills and sent me on my way. Except that for about three minutes, we couldn't even figure out how to get me into the Miata, with that whole, no bending knee thing. And then after FINALLY eating in the parking lot of a McDonalds, we headed over to his sister's house, given that BF lives in a second floor condo and HAHAHAHAHAHAH, stairs, and she was nice enough to let us use her spare bedroom. (One of her greyhounds, who had claimed the bed as her own upon moving in, was quite put out that she was not consulted about this.)
Needless to say, I did not see my aunt that night, or my friend the next day. More later, I have to go look for a sock.