The road to recovery

Day 7: Typing one-handed is not as hard as I thought. 
Saturday July 24, 2010. The leg of the step ladder gives way and I find myself laying on the floor with a huge open wound on my right arm and finger. I feel pressure on my foot.  I will not go into detail about the wounds too much.  I was surprisingly not in mental shock yet. Obviously the body was suffering from shock, but the mind was now in control.  I tell Mark (my hsband), very calmly, to get me water, towels, my medical card and his car keys.  I also tell him not to let the girls, Shir (my step-daughter, age 15), Eden, aged 4, and Kylee, 2, come downstairs.

I manage to stand up and walk up about 8 stairs and to the car. We meet the ambulance on the road on the way to the emergency. By now the mental pain has caught up with the physical. The only thought and feeling is PAIN!!

The 1st ambulance team are amazing. Offering me emotional support.  They cannot offer me any pain killers as they are just a 'transport' ambulance. So we wait for the 2nd ambulance. They are less sympathetic to me.  I assume it is because they are not used to transporting concious people.  But they do have meds.  Double dose of morphine comes my way.  The screaming, on a scale of 1 to 10 is now maybe 10. I keep telling them that I would rather give birth 10 Xs in a row than suffer this pain.

The emergency room is quieter than I imagined it to be. They send me for XRays.  The man there tells me that I must move my arm so he can do his work - he is quite grumpy.  I tell him quietly that he does not have to be so grumpy. The atmosphere in the room changes.  He somehoe finds a way to xray my arm.  He moves to my leg.  I tell him that there is nothing wrong with the leg. He smirkes as if knowing something I don't.

Back to the doctors. The wheel me off to the operating room. They need to stitch up the open wounds on the arm and finger and tell me I have a broken leg and arm.  The arm is more serious.  They will do a temporary cast until the specialist can se me Sunday.

Up until that moment I still believed they would stitch me up and send me home. They would give me something called 'tishtoosh' so I would not feel the pain.

'Tishtoosh' and I do not agree. I had it during the birth of Kylee and it makes me speak rubbish - pure rubbish.  The worst thing is I know what I am saying, but have no control over it.  So there I go start telling the 2 doctors that they are in their bathing suits....

I am admitted into the orthopedic ward - in a room with 2 old Russian ladies. Neither of them speak Hebrew.
Olga near the window curses in Russian all day and all night - it certainly doesn't sound like she is speaking words of wisdom and love.

My first night is not a good night - what with Olga and the pain.

For someone who in the last 15 years has maybe gone to the doctor 5 times, I am sure making up for it now!

Back to Olga, they finally drug us both and we all get some rest.

I worry so much about Mark. He feels responsible for the accident.  Keep telling him, that we are a team and he is not to blame at all.  I also tell him that in 6 to 8 weeks we will buy a new ladder and try again...mom, if you are reading this, it is a joke! Mark is still in shock.  To be honest, not sure what is easiest at this stage, trying to keep everyone and everything together, including, me, himself, the kids, work, or laying in a hospital bed drugged up. I really love him so much!!!

Janine, my sister and family step to the plate and have been a saviour with the girls.

The amazing love and support from my family in SA is so important to me.

The group of girls from my office have shown nothing but support and care - my adoptive family!

My Nokia E72 has become my window to the world. Facebook and emails hide the reality for me.  It is like a story I am telling about someone that appears to be me, but just can't be!!

I know I am strong, but the mind is taking a beating.  I am trying to stay mentally strong.....trying trying. The mind says get up and go, but the body has other ideas. 

Monday morning is the operation. Other than the births of my girls, the last time I was in Hospital was to have my tonsels out at age 4....

The 2 'delivery' guys come to take me to operating rooms.  They wheel me out, and as in the movies, I just see ligts above me. After a few minutes we are in a parking lot!  I look around and for a moment wonder if they r going to do their shopping first!  In this country anything is possible. The load me into the back of a van and off we go.....100meters down the road and we arrive at the operating rooms.

There are about 8 patients waiting to be wheeled away by their doctors and team.  The receptionist is screaming on the phone, there are about 20 medical personnel gathering in the area.  The place is buzzing - it takes my mind off the op. Suddenly the room is empty - except for me. They say there is a delay. Nobody knows why, but I know. I have not seen Mark yet this morning. Suddenly he appears.  We have a few moments together. All I see know are lights and faces.  The beeping machines fill my ears and my head.

What must be hours later I am semi-with it and screaming in pain. They keep me sedated.  I arrive back at the ward and Olga late afternoon. Mark looks stressed. Poor poor guy. He needs to be strong.

Tuesday is a new day and a step further down the road.

I am starting to realize that the whole idea of balance is to not let the mind get too active and to keep the body as active as possible.  Eventually, the 2 will meet in a beautiful dance - neither one really leading, but both complimenting each other.

Poor Olga is trying to climb out of the bed again.  With 2 broken legs, not such a good idea.

Wednessday, excercises start. I am now able to sit in a chair, but am still not able to go to the loo....
My first goal is to go to the loo my own......

The social worker discusses our options after my release. Maybe rehab, maybe home.  We think of maybe renting a house near us for a few months. We are in the middle of a major house renovation and have moved upstairs to a small flat, so there is no room for a wheelchair or the sorts. We await the decision of the kupat holim.

The doctors tell us that the bone by the elbow is shattered, so it took them a while to attach the plates onto the bones.

Olga tells me through a translater: " you are young and pretty, you will heal just fine.  I am not young and not pretty, I will suffer."  A defeated old lady is a sad sad sight indeed.

Shir comes to spend the day with me Thursday.  She massages my good foot and hand - wonderful!

We get the word that I am being moved to rehab in Tel Aviv. Far from home, but logic tells me it is the best thing. They are meant to come and get me at 15:30, but Israel being Israel, they only come at 18:30.

We arrive. It is an old facility, but the staff are wonderful.  Whatever I want, 24 hours, 7 days a week. Did not have a good nights sleep.  Sharing a room with a lady that had a traffic accident - Tova.  She has been here for 5 weeks already.  I am not a jealous person, but I so wanted to be telling her that I have been here for 6 weeks!

As it is the weekend, there is no treatment for me until Sunday.

I get a wheelchair and am very very pleased with myself - I am now able to go to the loo on my own!!

Everyone here has a story.  I understand how lucky I am.

Friday morning is an emotional roller-coaster for me - I cry everytime there is a mention of Mark or the girls. looking  foreward to their visit later.

WOW! The sight of my girls is so precious!  I am mobile now and not layed-up in a bed. We spend a wonderful afternoon together. I feel Eden is more accepting of the situation.  Kylee is hard to figure as she is so young. I feel so much better now. 

BTW - if there are any typos, I am typing on a keyboard that has rather stiff keys....see you tomorrow.