Tuesday, November 8, 2005
I listen to Pat tell this story and he does paint me out to be a very cold woman, very unsympathetic. It's all in fun but I never get to tell it from my vantage point so here it is.
On the way to the hospital he was whining and in a lot of pain. I eased up on my anger but he kept telling me to watch out for the bumps in the road.
Ok, we are not talking about pot-holes or deliberately finding bumps in which to hit, we are talking about those lines that go across the road every few feet. Each time the tires would hit one he would yell out in pain and then tell me to be careful. I finally looked at him at one point and asked him how in the hell I was supposed to avoid those lines? They are all over the roads. Finally we arrive at the hospital.
The emergency room was packed full and we had to wait. Pat was struggling to stay awake, the pain taking over his ability to remain conscious. After about 45 minutes of waiting we asked how much longer we would have to wait and they were of course curt and said that they didn't know.
And one nurse was actually nice enough to wheel out a gurney and offer it to Pat. Now he was covered in mud and his fear was getting that mud all over those nice sanitary white sheets and I said, "Lay down, who cares how dirty you are and quit worrying about those damn sheets!"
By this time I was getting angry with the hospital. Pat was in a lot of pain and he did not look good. What the hell good is emergency if they can't even get you in the room.
Finally Pat was called in. Ok, this is a part that Pat loves to make me out to be this very cruel person.
Pat had this Corona pull-over on. One in which I swear he would've slept in if I would've let him. It's one of those from Mexico that I had received as a hand-me-down from one of my sisters.
Anyway, he loved this shirt. A nurse walked in and I noticed her pulling out a scissors. I asked her what she was doing and she said that she would have to cut this shirt off. Me though, I knew how much Pat liked this shirt and being a woman was thinking about the sentimental value this article of clothing held for him. He really did like it that much.
So I ASKED the nurse if there was any way in which we might be able to save that shirt? She didn't even give me a funny look or the idea a second thought. She proceeded to start taking this shirt off of Pat.
This poor guy was in agony and I had said at one point that if it was too hard than to just cut it off but she kept on jimmying that shirt up as if I hadn't said anything at all. And I don't think that Pat heard me say it either because he was too busy telling her to just cut it off.
Had I known at the time that simply asking if the shirt could be saved, a very innocent and naive question mind you, if I had known that once this incident was in our past that I was going to get endless amounts of grief for this really dumb question, well, I would not have even requested that.
But she did manage to get that shirt off of him. And I, to this day, have not heard the end of that incident or the drive to the hospital. But when were alone, I will speak up and say "hey, wait there buddy." and he will laugh and say, "I know, I just have to give you grief, I know that you weren't being mean, it's just fun." (Pat and I love to pick at each other and make the other look bad or silly. It's just who we are.)
The doctor arrived in the room and Pat proceeded to tell what had happened and said that he had a broken collarbone. The doc felt his shoulder which upon feeling along the bone even my 6 year-old could see that the bone just ended in the wrong place. But because they have to be thorough an x-ray was requested. And wow, in walks the doc and says, "well, you have a broken collarbone". Duh!!!!!
I have to continue this in a new entry to give you all a coffee break. It is getting very long. And there is still much to tell about this portion of our very chaotic life and this collarbone accident.
Enjoy your break.....**whew** sweat pouring off my brow!
Written by louie0768 .
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