Every now and then something unexpected happens and suddenly
.........an ordinary day turns into an extraordinary one.
Sometimes extraordinary of the good kind and sometimes....
of the bad kind.
Since I started this blog I have tried to write a new post every
Monday and most of the time(ordinarily)I have been able to
stick to that commitment.
However, last Monday an ordinary day turned into an
extraordinary day of the bad kind.
While trying to squeeze some water out of a mop into a
basin in my tiny laundry, some of the water ended up on the
floor. This made the floor exceedingly slippery and with arms and
legs flailing sent me crashing to the tiled floor smashing my
head into the basin and landing awkwardly on my left leg.
I decided to stay down for a minute and wait for my head
to stop spinning. But, I am an impatient fool, so I bum-shuffled
myself into the kitchen only to realize that I didn't have a
clue as to how I was going to be able to get on my feet.
So I kept bum-shuffling to the nearest chair and eventually
managed to get myself upright. Gingerly I tried to put
some weight on my left leg. Although it was hurting,
I decided that it was not hurting bad enough for me to stop
my weekly cleaning routine.
I proceeded with my daily chores as if nothing had happened.
But as the day went on, the knee on my left leg kept swelling,
the pain kept increasing, and the smallest of movements
sent searing pain through my whole body so severe that
I could hardly breathe.
I needed to get to the hospital.
At 9pm I called for an ambulance. At 2:30 am one turned up.
Standing outside the front door, two very compassion fatigued paramedics
told me to walk!!! to the ambulance.
Flabbergasted and incredulously I screeched: ''I can't walk!!! That's why
I called for an ambulance!!! Can you PLEASE help me!!!''
Eventually they produced a stretcher and I was wheeled to the
ambulance.
On arrival at the hospital I was placed in a hard plastic chair with
wheels. No, not a wheelchair, that would have been awesome.
No, a very hard and uncomfortable upright chair with nowhere
to rest any part of your body except for your butt....
which in my case was very sore.
They placed me in a corner in (the) Triage,
handed me a well-washed-well-worn cotton blanket and then
ignored me for almost four hours.
Well, except for the times I was offered opiates.
Each time I said no thank you to the drugs there was
a look of consternation on the nurses faces.
Are you sure you don't want any?
-Yes, but I would really appreciate if I could be moved
into a more comfortable chair of some sort, please?
Sorry, there is none. We are very busy, you just have to wait.
Some patients have had to wait for over six hours.
Busy? The Triage was basically empty except for one person
(admin? nurse? I don't know.) checking out a website
called WhatsOn.
I decided to grab the next nurse that showed up and insist
on being given a time frame for how much longer I was
going to have to wait.
-Nurse? Nurse?!! Please? I called out.
What seems to be the trabble? asked the nurse that
I managed to grab. (A petit nurse with curly auburn hair and
a melodious Irish accent.)
-I'm sorry to be a pest but my leg is really killing me.
Is there anywhere else that I can wait where I can put my
leg up somehow?
The pain's bathering yah? Do yah need some painkillers?
-Well, maybe a couple of Panadols could help, but
I have been in absolute agony for 12 hours now.
Are you sure there is no bed available, please?
We're reely bissy yah know, but I'll have a look for yah.
The nurse handed me two Panadol's and the vanished down
the hospital warren.
I closed my eyes and tried to practice a bit of mindfulness.
Almost asleep, suddenly the Irish nurse appeared,
unlocked the wheels on the chair and started to
push me down the warren. (corridor)
This will make yah happy, she said and gently patted me on the
shoulder.
It did. We stopped in front of a fresh, crisp sheet covered bed.
With the help of a male nurse I was lifted on to the bed and
finally I could let my sore leg rest.
Bliss. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
A few minutes passed.
Then another nurse came by and turned out the bright light
above my head, gave me a cup of water and left.
Finally, the throbbing in my leg subsided a little.
Another few minutes passed.
Then in the space of 15 minutes I had been x-rayed, seen by
a doctor, had a splint put on the leg, handed a pair of crutches
and was hobbling out the door of the hospital.
Waiting for a taxi I enjoyed the bright sunshine, a gentle
breeze across my face and the knowledge that I was just a
few minutes away from a freshly brewed coffee.
Safely at home, sipping my coffee, it dawned on me
how quickly an ordinary day had turned into an extraordinary
one.
Having my leg in a splint meant that I could not drive,
(my son doesn't drive unfortunately)
I could not take my son to the doctor, I could not do
any shopping, I had to crawl up the stairs to get to my bed,
and going to the toilet was a major event.
(Who knew just how hard it is to go to the toilet with
a leg in a splint....I certainly didn't.)
For an ordinary day to be ordinary, there are so many things
I think one takes for granted to just work.
A split second is all it may take to turn an ordinary life
into a totally different and unfamiliar life.
Personally,
I've come to appreciate how grateful I need to be for
every ordinary, un-eventful day that comes my way.
''The ordinary is not so ordinary when it comes down to it.
Ordinary just means that we have forgotten to
appreciate all the little things that we now take for granted.
The same little things that perhaps for some us have never
been ordinary but always extraordinary.''
(Citizen Z)
about the image: a snapshot on my camera of some ordinary grass
growing at the front of my place
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