hospital trip We refuse to go to our local hospital because our average waiting time is 4.5 hours, so we hit up another one in Kitchener and we are in and out in less than an hour and a half. Here is what happened...and I kid you not. We enter the emergency and there is a test I have to take. Seriously. So I touch the screen on a monitor because it tells me to and a piece of paper prints out. The computer also tells me I am number 47. The test is all about the Ebola virus with very confusing questions. I start to sweat. I had no idea there would be a test. I write my name and answer two questions when they call number 47. I look at Dave. Im not done. He told me to explain that I didnt have enough time but I could come in tomorrow to do extra credit. I enter the nurses station and sat down while Dave waited in the waiting room because that is what its for...to wait. I give her the test and waited nervously to be graded. She saw two questions answered and she looks at me. Have you been to Africa in the last 6 months? No. Have you been in contact with anyone who has been in Africa in the last 6 months? No. She throws the paper in the garbage. After I frown on the waste of paper and sweat, and the fact I could be lying and who would know, she asked me who my next of kin was, who brought me here, and then what happened. I was stupid. She smiles. I went on. A large, very heavy, dresser didnt play nice and attacked my foot. Can you take your slipper off? I do and then my sock and she sees the bruise. Yikes. I feel better. At least I know her medical training was not in vain and she got to use her big medical words. Tell me what happened and do not leave anything out. I take a few seconds to gather my thoughts. Do I really want this woman to know what an idiot I am? I mean...I couldnt even finish the test on time. I was trying to move an upright dresser from a dark closet into the hallway. And it fell on your foot? she asks, her fingers poised ever so gracefully over the keyboard of her computer to type just that. No. She put her hands down and looks at me. I wanted to make sure there were no spiders hiding in the bottom so I dragged it from the closet into the bedroom. The closet was in the bedroom? she asks suspiciously as if I am hiding something. Did I not mention that? After looking at her shake her head, I continued. It was in the bedroom. So I dragged it closer to the bed so I could lean in over to see underneath. Her hands went up to the keyboard. And it dropped on your foot? No. She lowered her hands and looked at me again. I lowered it knowing at this point how heavy it was and that I was struggling. And then you dropped it on your foot? her hands flying up to the keyboard. No. She let her hands drop again. I leaned it but it started to slip. And then... No. I looked under it and saw it was good. No spiders. But the cat was trying to look in the space under the dresser. Her brows went up. I shooed the cat out. She nodded. I couldnt lift it so I thought I would remove the drawers. She nodded again but much more confidently. And then it dropped on your foot. No. I got the bottom drawer out and the cat got nosy again. Her eyes went to me. But I shooed it away and then I went for another drawer. She leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. And? The dresser fell on my foot. She sat up. I didnt see that coming. She started to type then looked at me. Is there someone you are afraid of? Maybe someone you are with? I tried not to grin. I have to ask, she said. You are brought in here with an injury, you are a woman, and this story... Hey, you cant make this shit up. I swear, its exactly how it happened. I have to ask, she repeated. She was really sweet despite me being me. No problem. So, what do you do for a living? she asks as she types up that a dresser fell on my foot. Short but sweet. Uh. She stops typing and looks at me. I dont think uh can be categorized as a job. Im a writer. Really? Very nice. What do you write? Fiction. Fantasy, that sort of thing. So...you make things up. I grin. She smiles. Alright, you can put your slipper on and wait in the waiting room. I thank her and meet up with Dave. Smile, I said to him. Why? Because I think they think you had a hand in this. He laughs. Did you tell them I stomped on your foot with my steel toed shoe? I can see a mountain of a nurse come from behind the nurses station and look at us pretending that she isnt. I wanted to, I admitted. But I thought Id better just tell them the truth. Did she laugh? Nope, but she was grinning the whole time. Well, I still dont know why you do these things and not wait for me to get home to do them. I shrug. I was bored. I am called to another nurse who asks me what happened to my foot. I decide to do the short but sweet version from now on. A dresser fell on it. She smiled and put a paper bracelet on my wrist. After getting into a wheelchair and driven, by a very shy and sweet teen, to another waiting room, I find I am not unique. There are a few people with injuries to their feet and all of them are on their left foot, like me. I feel honoured, like I made it into a secret society in Yale. However, every nurse who came to me asks me what happened to my foot and every time I tell them a dresser fell on it. Everyone is in a good mood and talking among themselves when this sweet young helper wheels in another woman, somewhat older and looking odd. The woman is yelling at the girl that she is in so much pain and feels paralyzed. That she needs a doctor right this very second and where is he? The poor girl tells her that he will be along shortly. She kept trying to tell the woman that she does not have the authority to give her medication while she backs away, trying to get through the door. We all felt for her. This woman declares loudly to all that she cannot walk. She is in pain. Its her back, apparently. Shes mean to everyone and is not making friends. Finally a nurse comes over and says that the doctor will be around shortly, and to be patient. Should I go out for a smoke? the woman asks. We all look at her. The nurse says sure, like what else is she going to say? The woman gets up and walks perfectly fine back out through the doors. A man stands up and raises his hands. Hallelujah. She can walk. She is cured. Another man shouts out, Its the wheelchair, I tell ya. They are magical. Of course everyone bursts out laughing and then we all go back to our own conversations. Later an adorable older gentleman comes over to my wheelchair before heading to the mens room and bends down in front of me. I think you can walk, dear. Those chairs seem to cure walking. I smile at him and then grin. He winks and walks away. Another nurse comes by and sees the empty chair and starts to move it. We all stop talking and look at her. She looks around at us, getting freaked out a little. When she slowly starts to move the chair again, we all go, Oooohhhh. She stops and looks at us again. Dont move that. Dont make it mad, someone says. People snicker. Yeah, you dont to make her mad, agreed another. Make who mad? she asks. Then SHE walked in with no apparent pain. She came in and looked at the nurse, closing one eye. The nurse lets go of the wheelchair and walks briskly away. The woman sits on a normal chair, avoiding the wheelchair altogether. I lean into Dave. Is that a good sign or a bad one? He looks at me and smiles. I mean, can I walk now or not? He shook his head and went back to looking at the TV. The woman no longer said a word to anyone, not even the nurses. I was sent in to get my x-rays done and coming back out, we pass the room where people are brought in from the ambulances. There were cops everywhere, swarming the halls. I smooth out my curly hair. Why? Who the hell knows. We get back to Dave and I lean in to him again. I think we have a problem. What is it? There are cops down that hall. Lots of them. I wonder why. He looks at the TV. I guess they didnt believe my dresser story. I look at the TV too. He looks at me. A father wheels his young daughter in with a hurt foot, but its her right one. She will not make it into the secret society. She is reading a massive novel and I smile at her. I like to see kids read. A tad later I sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. What? he asks. Im BORED. You should be writing. Youre not bored when youre writing. Start another book. Im working on three books. I have enough books to write at the moment. Im bored because Im not at home writing. You are dangerous when you are bored. How so? You do stupid things like move something heavy. At least you didnt hurt your back. Nope. Just my neck and upper shoulders which you still havent rubbed. Want me to rub them now? Sure. Too bad. Huh? I wouldnt want anyone to think I am trying to strangle you. Touche. Speaking of your books, I have a question about the Morgan Heart one, he asks. He asks this because he is reading it before it goes out. What? The little girl ghost...who is she? Wow. What? Those books are geared for preteens. So? Nothing. What? he prods. You have no patience. You always start a book of mine then stop barely into it and ask me what is going to happen. I need to know. Yes, I get that, but I bet the kids who read it just read it and find things out for themselves. Ive never gotten an email from anyone asking me how a book that they are currently reading is going to end. Im curious. Ill say. My eyes wander to the young girl with the right foot in only a sock and no shoe. She stops looking at Dave as she smiles and goes back to her own book. Well? he asks. Well what? Who is she? All I am going to tell you is that she isnt a child when she dies. He thinks about it. He thinks some more. So she is... Read the book. After a little while a nurse comes over. What happened to your foot? I tell her what happened then I am wheeled to another small cubicle and was told I didnt break anything. Just dont throw anymore dressers around, she says sweetly. The look on my face was not a smiling one as I tried to absorb what she was saying. When I got it, I smiled. Will do. Dave wheeled me back to the entrance and put me in the tiny foyer where there were three doors. A regular one leading outside as well as a revolving one, and one that opened by sensors into the emergency area. He sat me there while he went to pay for a ticket so we could leave. He sat me a little too close to the door that leads into the emergency room and it kept triggering the sensor to open on its own. Then it would close. Then it would open. Then it would close. Then...everyone in the room looked at me with annoyance. There was a man behind the glass window in a tiny tiny room in the foyer with me. He had on a security uniform but he was ignoring me altogether. He was also ignoring the door I seemed to have the power to move on my own even though I couldnt move my chair. The brake was on. I couldnt see Dave. I sighed and finally got up, triggering the door to remain open. I raised my hands and praised the Lord. I can walk. Its a miracle. No one in the room laughed. I smiled anyway and then Dave showed up. Hey, you can walk. Its a miracle. I looked at the people in the waiting room and said, Told ya.
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 15:53:36 +0000