Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Ouch


Originally written 18MAR2013

It is said that the early bird gets the worm.  It is also said the second mouse gets the cheese.

Yesterday started like any normal Sunday that I've spent alone in a dark, dank, over-priced extended stay motel.  I grabbed my computer and pulled up the address for the church I was planning on attending.  Unfortunately, it started at 1000, not 1100, which is when I had thought.  So, I pulled up plan B.

I arrived in time to get a seat in the back.  I may be PCA on the outside, but deep-down, I will always be a back-row Baptist.  Pretty soon, a couple took seats next to me.  The husband seemed a little familiar to me.  After the service, he remarked that I, too, looked familiar.  It turned out that he was a fellow alumnus of the TTU RUF.  He informed me that there was a small group that night, and we exchanged numbers.

I returned to my motel room and debated whether to take a nap, or do my laundry.  Laundry won.  Now, I know at least one person who would tell me that what followed is God's justice for working on the Sabbath.  I have a few things I would tell him in return, but this is a family blog, and I doubt he's reading it anyway.

I gathered up my laundry and tossed it in my over-sized backpack.  I also tossed in the laptop I'm borrowing.  Then I realized 2 things:  I didn't have laundry soap, and I didn't have quarters.  So, off to Publix I went.

On the return trip, I stopped at an intersection about a quarter of a mile away from my motel.  The arrow went green and I started my turn.  I was almost through when inexplicably, my car jerked to the left, my airbag went off, and I started skidding toward a truck stopped in the other direction.  My thoughts were something to the effect:

Oof...Ack!  Truck!  Incoming!  Stop, stop, stop...yes, I'm not going to hit him!...no wait, I think I am...stop...stop...yep, pretty much gonna hit him...sorry fella...oof!

A few minutes later, I decide that since I no longer have a personal nurse to look after me, it might be a wise decision to allow the friendly EMT's to cart me to the ER.  They obliged.  Before we left, however, I needed to make sure nothing disappeared while I was gone.  I packed the lappy, Gary the Garmin, and anything else of value and turned it over to the police, who told me they could put it into the evidence lock-up, where I could retrieve it the next day.

While riding to the hospital, it finally sinks in that I have no car.  This raised the question of how I was going to get to the motel.

Which brings me to my original observation.  Sometimes it's good to sleep in.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell.  I called my fellow alumnus, who agreed to retrieve me once I was done.  At the time, I assumed it would be about an hour.

Not so much.

Since it was supposed to be a simple function test, I was taken to Fast Track.  After pushing on my spine in a variety of places and declaring me to be fine, the NP made her way around to the bottom right of my rib cage.  At this point, I gasped and said, "Let's not do that again."

The NP frowns and informs me that tenderness in that area, combined with the location of impact to my car, suggests possible liver damage.  Shortly thereafter, a nurse enters to start an IV.

I hate IV's.  Ever since the oral surgeon's nurse took 3 shots at my hand before giving up, I have passed out any time someone tries to put anything in to me.  I can phlebotomize myself all day long, but don't shove a plastic catheter around the outside of a needle into my arm.  Fortunately, the nurse in question was good.

Another 45 minutes for the BUN/Creat to be resulted so I can get the contrast media.  He shoots it in, and I suddenly feel like I've just peed my pants.  Or gown as the case may be.

Another 45 for the CT to be read, and they cut me loose.  Twenty for my ride to show, then a side trip to a convenience store to pick up a charger for my dead phone.  I'm back at my motel within 4 hours of the wreck.  That has to be some sort of record.

Upon charging my phone, I find a voicemail from the police officer who took custody of my gear that he had not checked it into evidence.  He simply stored it in his car for his shift in an attempt to get it to me to avoid me having to set up an appointmet to pick it up the following day.

So, in closing, a shout out to the Norcross, GA FD, EMS, and PD as well as Gwinnett Memorial (Duluth). for their efficient, friendly service.