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Abby : In the beginning...
Diary entry posted Sun 10:25am 10 February 2008

I don't get out much. I have a 2 1/2 year old and I really just prefer to spend my time at home with her. The day before my birthday, one of my friends convinced me to come down and hang out with her and a few friends. I decided since I hadn't seen her in a long time that I would at least stop by and say hi. We were having fun, just goofing off, when we decided to get on the golf cart and ride back to see my friend's aunt. We had been back there once already, but she hadn't been home. Instead of doing something sensible, like,I don't know, picking up the phone and calling her, we decided to pile the 3 of us back on the golf cart and go see. Let me stop here and say that they had tried to get me to drive the golf cart earlier since they had been drinking and I had not, but I declined because I hadn't ever driven one before, it was dark, etc. Geez, what a dork I am. Anyway, Nicole, Tammy and I all climbed onto the golf cart for the second or third time. Tammy driving, Nicole in the middle, and me on the outside edge. Something else that is important to note is where I was at. I live in Middle Georgia, pine trees and dirt roads are 2 of the most common things you will see. It gets DAAARRKK out there. Ok, back to the story: Tammy turns the lights on and starts off zig-zagging between the pine trees, when suddenly, Nicole's mostly black cat appeared in our headlights. I don't think the cat was really in any danger of being hit, but it startled all 3 of us and Tammy swerved the cart. I think I had just been trying to get myself a little more settled in at this very moment too. The next thing I knew, the golf cart went to the left and I went to the right. I think I actually landed with my leg underneath me and I heard the crack. Nicole and Tammy jumped out of the golf cart and ran over asking if I was ok. I told them I didn't know, but to please not touch me!! Tammy has worked as nurse's aide and she looked at my foot and gingerly picked it up. "Can you move it??" I could, very, very slowly. They thought that was good sign. So did I. They suggested they help me inside. I informed them I was just fine laying on the nice, cold ground. After a little while, they helped me up and into a chair in the carport. When they helped me up, they asked if I could put weight on it...oh no. No way. That was NOT a good sign. I sat in the lawn chair while they got me some ice. By this time, the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain and reality of the situation was sinking in. I tried to calculate the distance from my chair to my car and decided that maybe I would just live the rest of my life in this chair. "I think I am going to go home." They all offered to drive me. I decided against it for obvious reasons. I knew it was a straight shot on the dirt road back to my house and I could drive with my left leg. I promised to call them when I got home and also promised to call them or my parents if I got out on the road and found I couldn't drive.

So. Teeny, tiny Tammy gets me to my car and I fall in painfully. The car jerked a little as I back up and my left foot tried to discover exactly how much pressure it takes to brake and push the gas. The ride home went exceptionally quick. I called my parents on my way home and told them I was on my way, and that I might need help getting into the house because it was possible that I had broken my ankle. Of course, my parents were thrilled. I drove into the carport and got pulled out of the car. When I couldn't even make it to the stairs to go into the house, I turned around and got in the van. My mom took me to the ER. I don't remember much of that ride...thankfully. By the time we got the hospital, (about 45 minutes later because the closer hospital might have tried to take out my appendix or something,) I had flesh colored tennis balls on either side of my ankle. Apparently swelling that bad allows you to bypass the waiting room and go straight back to wait for xray. The er doc came in after the xrays and muttered "Well, you have two fractures and you may need surgery." Surgery?? Really? I just broke a bone...well two but still! The doc had already called the OS and told me that I would see him Monday. ER doc put on a splint that went up just past my knee, gave me two shots of demerol and sent me home with a prescription for hydrocodone. There was very little sleep that night.

Sunday morning, I am laying in anguish on the couch and the phone rings. It is the ER doc...not a nurse, not an aide, the actual doctor. He says that the OS had come in and looked at my xrays and I would have to have surgery. He told me not to eat anything after midnight so if the OS could get me in the next day I'd be ready. I thanked him, got off the phone and cried. I couldn't believe that I could take a basic fall off of a golf cart and turn it into a major double break that required surgery. By Sunday night I was in tears for a different reason: the hydrocodone didn't seem to be helping my pain at all (which seems to be a trend in this injury). I could feel the bones moving on the left side of my leg every time I moved and I had pain constantly. My mom called the ER to see if I could up the dose or change the meds. The er dr called back in less than 5 minutes and told me to come back to the Er. I was sooo excited I just couldn't stand it (y'know sarcasm doesn't come across very well in writing).

Back at the ER, I was once again taken into a room ahead of the half a dozen or so people that were already waiting to be seen. The same dr was still there and he said the OR told him to make the splint end below my knee. After more xrays and more demerol, the doc changed the splint. He wanted to keep me overnight for pain management, but the OS said that wasn't necessary. The ER doc was not happy with that, but sent me home anyway.

Monday morning at about 7:30 am, the OS called. Again, not a nurse, the actual doctor. He told my mom that he wouldn't be able to get me in for surgery that day and he wanted her to make sure I got to eat. How thoughtful is that?? Anyway, I go to see him around 9:30 or so. He's very brief. Basically says I am going to have surgery the next day...plate and screws on one side (the side that I would not have to have fixed if I hadn't broken the other..grr) and a pin and screws on the other side. He left his nurse to get pre-op paperwork started and we went home. It's strange because as the days go on and I have more questions, I realized how many things he DIDN'T tell us. I'm hoping I can pin him down at my appointment tomorrow.

I was not happy, but went Tuesday for the surgery, which was supposed to be outpatient. When I woke up in the recovery room, they said they were ready to take me to a room. Apparently the surgery had taken longer than expected (a little less than 2 hours instead of 1) and the OS had to do a bone graft that he didn't expect...I think. Nobody really got all of what he was saying and I have yet to hear it from him. Anyway, 1 night turned to 3 and that is a whole other story!! That is "my hospital diary" that I did write while I was still in the hospital and about to go crazy!!



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 Sun 10:25am 10 February 2008
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