Not part of the bad week, but contributing to it, my birthday was on June 24th. A quiet day, because Hubby decided to celibrate it a week early. I don’t know why. Its not like I wanted to be 59 sooner. Oh, I fell down on my birthday. Nothing hurt right away.
The BAD week started with waking up to pain in my leg, where I fell, on Sunday. I’m bruised from toes to knee. Black, no blue.
Then Monday. The baddest day of each year, June 27th. The day Michael, my son, committed suicide in 2000. I slept and cried most of that day.
Tuesday, the leg was worse. I tried to pretend I was just focusing on it , but by Wednesday, there was no position that eased the burning and aching. Ice had helped up to that point, but by then the ice made it worse. So, hubby loaded me into the F-150 for a trip to urgent care. He was alternately, solicitious and angry.
We got to urgent care where the intake “nurse” was new; being oriented by Ms Burn-out 2005. He, the FNG, pushes the wheel chair into to my leg as he’s trying to get it out of the room, making me howl. Then, he put the blood pressure cuff on so wrong it pumped up to 300mm/Hg three times befor giving a completely bogus reading. He tells me its the pain… yeah. Sure.
Then comes the Doctor, or not. “Mr PA, but I think I’m a doctor” Starts telling me its just a bruise. He was so flippant and condesending he needed to be slapped. (no, I didn’t.)
He spoke mostly to my husband, making little asides like, “Women, you can’t… well never mind.” then he poked my leg and said, “does she whine like this all the time?”
Then I told him I was a critical care nurse. Surprisingly, he got worse. However, he did mention a few flash phrases to impress me. I told him my concern was ischmia, to which he replied “well, there’s nothing we can do about that.”
I mentioned that in the burn unit we used leeches for that very thing. He returns with “No, leeches are only used for compartment syndrome.” Then as an after-thought, “Did you work at Harborview?” (that’s the level I trauma center where the regional burn center is.)
After I told he that, yes, I’d worked there… in the burn center, then mentioned a few other prestiege laden places I’d worked, that he could merely dream of, he handed my husband some paper, told he to go fill the perscriptions and “take her home.”
The perscriptions were for Vicodan and full strength ibuprophen. :dubious:
I don’t remember yesterday. I just woke up from a dreadful nightmare, to find that its Friday. Ok, its 3:00 AM, but Friday, none the less.
I’ll be home alone today, hubby works for 24 hours starting at 6am. I think the pain is preferable to the medicine, although it doesn’t hurt right now.
Next week will be better… right?