ER 4: One Traumatic Event

Job 14:22 “But his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn.”

ER 4 - The Traumatic Event

I was doing everything I was supposed to be doing. Taking care of myself, visiting the doctors I was supposed to and life was moving along. I had a stool in my shower so I could safely shower, I now had a bedside commode because the journey into the bathroom alone was too risky as well as painful, I had the walker and cane and everything seemed to be moving along fine. 

The orthopod, Dr. Wrong, had told me that surgery would more than likely mean a total hip replacement, after looking at more x-rays that the office did and that work on my right side would be risky since it was covered in cancer, the ugly cells that spread like wildfire through my bones. I told him I was on oral chemo and he arrogantly said that he offered nothing oral here and thanks for coming. I did not hit it off with this ortho and quickly made an appointment with another, Dr. No.

The second ortho’s opinion differed from the first one and mixed signals were rampant in my head. I realized that all the little stuff the doctors and nurses put into the computers they carry apparently is for their eyes only. Your information is not shared with the medical community (the doctors you’re seeing) as it should be so that everyone is on the same page. Mass confusion ensues.

My shower that day would be the last for three months. I felt a twinge in my left thigh and I just figured I hit a nerve trying to get out of the shower from my awkward shower-stool. My physical therapist had surmised that my sciatic nerve was damaged, but the ‘know-it-all-doctors’ and their x-rays said it was my disease, munching on my bones like a beaver!

The rest of the day went off without a hitch and both my husband and son were home able-bodied and assisting. My bed was the most comfortable spot to rest my weary bones so there I went, to relax for a bit. 

After dinner, I needed to pee and the commode being inches from me seemed like an easy task but as soon as I put any weight on my left leg, pain shot through my leg like a bolt of lightning singing its target. I screamed. My husband came running. I think that was the last time I saw the sound, stable mind of my calm man. Fear gripped his face like a Hannibal Lecter mask. It covered every portion of visible skin. He was now someone else.

I squirmed and writhed. The pain was intensifying as was the need to pee. I just wanted to pee in the bed but knowing I was on TOXIC CHEMO, I would’ve destroyed the new mattress. My bodily fluids were now a danger to anyone who came in contact with them, so precaution was needed. Twenty-four inches is not a lot of room for two people to maneuver someone to a commode but maneuver we tried, I made it to a seating position on the commode and I screamed like a woman in childbirth, my thigh had dropped. It was gone, disfigured and dangling, a portion of my thigh just hung there as my knee no longer was where my knee should be. Between my legs is not where a knee should be. Something was seriously wrong.

My husband looked at my leg and just short of vomiting, he said, I’m calling 911. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I screamed, in pain and a not-this-again yelp.

Yes...911 had to get me out of this literal twenty-four-inch hellhole.

I want to give all of the gory and painstaking details of the next hours after this point but as harsh as it is to read, it is even harder to write. Just know, this event was the one where I found the true living meaning of gnawing and gnashing of teeth. The pain was more intense than childbirth. Considering I’ve given birth three times (two natural) you will not read this and say 'no way'. Intense, piercing pain went on for days even with the strongest of drugs they offered.

Miracles were taking place and prayer was right there in the ER with me as the nurse held my hand and we said the Our Father as an x-ray machine was brought into the tiny cubicle to get a picture of this mangled mess before them. Their faces spoke volumes. They have seen the worst of the worst in this hospital and looking at my leg, their faces drained of blood. 

I, in my natural fashion, kept the atmosphere as light as possible and made lil jokes and comebacks as they asked for the umpteenth time my birthday and the one nurse even remarked calling me a little spitfire! The Lord did not take away my humor. In the depths of darkest pain, I cried out to Him and He kept intact what makes me special, my personality.

I was wheeled to a room, obviously going to be kept for a while and with each bump in the floor, I screamed in pain, the ER nurse held my hand through it all and even went to my room with me. She made some calls that night that went against the doctors' orders but honestly, I trusted her as I had yet to even SEE a doctor. Not calls that would put me in danger, calls that would help me, like a catheter and stronger pain medication. It was obvious to her I would not be using a bedpan for days and bless her heart for making that call!

They had to shift me from the ER bed to the bed in the room, and though I’m light, my leg was so mangled and twisted it took about six people to lift, shift, slide my body to the new bed. Tears and screams flooded the room and each nurse again, stood looking as pale as if they had just seen their dead relative walk in the room. They knew and understood the damage present.

An Asian doctor (Ming, not real name) came in and introduced himself. He looked at the nurses and knew my case was serious, the color had not returned to their faces. He informed me that my Orthopod was trying to make a call on my situation without even seeing me, ‘keep me in traction until he can get in to do the surgery on Monday.’ Dr. Ming took one look at my mangled leg and said ‘No! I call dr. here on duty. You need surgery on this leg.’ I and my husband gave him permission to do what needed to be done. 

A miracle walked in the door in the way of Dr. Slim, who was a fill-in for the original Dr. Wrong Orthopod I had seen and didn’t get along with, this doctor was here for a week doing his rounds. Tall, slender and handsome, the concern darkened his raised eyebrow. His lips were perched tightly shut as he knew he had to make a split decision. After looking at this disfigured leg in front of him, he made his call, we need to operate. The doctor overrode the ‘keep her in traction’ orthopod’s decision! Thank you, Jesus!

Now to get the sleeve that the paramedic had placed on my leg at home, to keep the leg from moving, off of my leg. Yeah, all that pain I had felt was with a protective sleeve on my leg, I did not want it removed but the doctor told me my leg would set that way and it would become almost impossible to fix.

The original ER nurse was still there, holding my hand and squeezing it tightly. They all knew about my stage 4 disease and that I was on oral chemo and practically a danger to society since I was now a toxic minefield. They didn’t care, I was the patient and their first priority. Those women became MY heroes!

Dr. Slim stood patiently with my heel in his hand, as the women went on, to slowly free the sleeve, gently and cautiously sliding it under my leg, and in between screams and clenching my teeth, and darned near breaking the poor woman’s hand, the sleeve was removed. Now, to get me to straighten the distorted injured leg.

It was now the middle of the night and yes, after holding my leg/heel for an hour, Dr. Slim did eventually get me to straighten my leg but I’ll spare you more tears and screams, the thesaurus doesn’t hold enough words to describe the angst I went through that morning.

The operation was early that morning and my husband and son were there with me before I went in. My mother-in-law postponed a trip she was going on that day but she wanted to be there for us all and waited with them for the hours the surgery took. I woke, still in pain, but not the same pain as the night before. Now it was time for healing and keeping infection away. The next ten days would be a journey of a thousand hours. Pain-filled, buckets of tears, but love and miracles abounded! My God is an AWESOME God! 

...story to be continued

Rev. 21:4 “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”