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Crystal4 : Trimalleolar Fracture with dislocation - don't text and walk
Diary entry posted Sun 7:00pm 28 June 2009

Tuesday June 23 - My husband, daughter (8 months) , stepson (15y), and I were on our way out the door to get ice cream. I had handed the baby to my husband (thankfully) before we walked out the door.

I had my blackberry in hand and was reading a tweet from one of my favorite bloggers. (I'm such a dork) The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My phone had gone flying, as had my purse. I knew that my leg hurt - but in an instant that seemed like forever, I acknowledged to my husband, "I broke it."

I lifted my leg at the calf, my right foot dangling at a near 90 degree angle from my ankle and a bulge appearing where my ankle used to be.

I don't know how long it took me to get into the car. It felt like hours. And the 30 minute ride to the hospital seemed to take days. I was hyperventilating and moaning, but not screaming or crying - yet.

When we got to the hosptial, my husband got me a wheelchair and wheeled me in. It seemed like the receptionist was ignoring me and that was about all I could take. It hit me how bad I was hurt and I started crying. After taking one look at my anlke, I was taken to an exam room. I remember hearing things like, "that ankle is clearly in the wrong spot."

The tech tried to splint my ankle before giving me any pain medication and it was awful. I was screaming. My baby was freaking out. My husband was freaking out. I'm sure my stepson was too. I was finally given some dialaudin (sp?) and taken to x-ray. The doctor came back and told me I had broken my leg (no, really?) They started morphine after that.

They put me under conscious sedation to do a reduction and splint the ankle. They said I wouldn't remember it. Um, yeah, right. I remember crying out in pain while they were messing with me. They wanted me to stay the night for pain managment. I have four kids and two step kids, with the youngest being 8 months old, my husband had to work the next day. I didn't think it would be possible. But I somehow ended up staying.

The next morning, as I was eating a bagel, the PA for the OS came in and told me to stop eating, I was having surgery that day. She wouldn't even let me have a sip of water to wash the bagel down. I was told it would be late afternoon/early evening. I was given a cocktail of oxycontin, celebrex, some anti-nausea stuff, and a morphine pump. Sometime later that day, I was told that they would not get to me and that I would be having surgery with a different doctor the next day - early.

So, the fasting started all over again. The time for surgery (now Thursday) came and went with me being pushed back to the afternoon. The surgeon came in at 1 and told me we were good to go at 2. At 3:30, he came in and told me that it was a no go. His equipment had not been properly sterilized and he would not be ready for me until the next morning.

So, the fasting began again. I was vomiting from the morphine. I couldn't get a nurse in the room that night for 45 minutes - I called four times. It was awful.

Friday morning, I had been told I was going to be first. The nurse (who ignored me the night before) came in and told me that he had an emergency and couldn't get to me until 10. (I later found out she was lying about the reason.) At that point, I lost it. I called my dad. He came in and raised some heck (although this was after I was already - finally - in surgery)

I was taken in at 10 ish for surgery. I was given 2 plates and 14 screws.

All during this ordeal, I was trying to make arrangments for my 8 year old who was attending theater camp, my 11 year old who was supposed to be going to dance nationals in Wisconsin (today), and dealing with a less than helpful ex-spouse. While I know I sound like I'm complaing a lot, I had some wonderful nurses and some wonderful friends and family members who helped out transporting my kids and keeping the baby for me.

I finally came home from the hospital on Saturday. I'm feeling incredibly guilty for missing my daughter's play and even worse for causing my older daughter and her dance team to suffer at nationals because I hurt myself.

I'm getting to the bathroom with a walker (the crutches just aren't happening yet), otherwise, I'm, staying on the couch with my leg elevated and iced. I've never been in this much pain - even after four kids and a terribly painful shoulder surgery in 02.

Tomorrow, I have an appointment at the OS. My nurse seemed to think I'd be getting a cast. I hope so because I don't feel stable in this splint and wrap.





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 Sun 7:00pm 28 June 2009
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