My Left Foot

I was going to start a new blog for my latest "adventure," but the old one popped up, and since I am currently a one-finger, one-eyed typist, I thought this would be easier.

Mid-June, Jerry and I took our first post-Covid overseas trip to London to celebrate our 20th anniversary.

The delight lasted a day. i was hit by a double-decker bus. Did the long mirror hit me? Did I step off the curb on a very narrow street? Police are investigating, and while Jerry was witness to the trauma, he can't say definitively what happened.

But he did say that medical care was there quickly and worked on me for about an hour before I was transported to King's College Hospital.

I will likely forget something, but here are my injuries' greatest hits: two brain bleeds, double vision, broken sternum and ribs, broken left pinky, broken left elbow, broken right clavicle, broken right upper arm, and the biggie: amputation of my right leg above the knee.

The surgeons credited my success, or in other words, not dying, on my physical strength. Several said if I had not been so strong, I would not have made it. Thank you, Pilates, and walking 150 pound dogs.

I was in King's College about a month. The medical care was outstanding and compassionate. But once I was out of ICU and Critical Care I was transferred to a warehouse-- I mean ward.

Welcome to Thunderdome. Chaos, noise, and lack of care. Flat on my back for weeks, deteriorating both physically and mentally. I watched the clock for 2:00 pm. Visiting hours. Jerry would arrive with a cappucino, fresh fruit, salt and vinegar crisps, and most important, love.

He and one of my doctors began to work tirelessly to get me transferred to Johns Hopkins. no exaggeration when I say Jerry worked on this for hours every day.

Getting me out of there was like Whack-a-Mole. The date, and where I would go were moving targets. At first, because I could not use my arms, it was suggested I go to a sub-acute care center, ie, a nursing home. That got a big Hell no from me. I had already been warehoused for weeks. I would go home before I would do that.

But finally, one of the Hopkins physicians realized I should go there to get evaluated and stabilized.

Our doctor ally started pulling together my medical records, and Jerry got busy to find a flying ambulance.

Finger is tired so more later.

Comments

  1. MaureenJuly 26, 2022 at 5:57 AM

    Carol, I've been reading Cabernet and just saw that you picked it up again. Yay! I like reading your blog much better than Facebook, though I understand the place of FB in our lives, especially now. I'm glad you're up to writing, even with one finger and one eye. Damn! You are one extraordinary human being, Carol!
    This is probably a dumb question but I'll ask it anyway - have you tried typing with the voice recognition thingie on a mobile device? I use that sometimes and I gotta say it regularly cracks me up with what Google thinks I'm trying to say. Good for a laugh, anyway.
    Sending a big hug your way today. And one for Jerry. You are both lucky, inspiring people. ❤️❤️

    ReplyDelete

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