#YouCan’tMakeThisStuffUp Part 5 of 5

Today’s blog post wraps up my recent tale of woe. We pick up the story when the nurse was checking on the status of my shower chair/portable toilet and the woman at the other end of the phone call responds, “I’m on it.”

In case you missed Part 4 yesterday, here’s a link to it: #YouCan’tMakeThisStuffUp Part 4 of 5. ­­­­

Home at last

I’m finally presented with my “throne” and Marie and I leave the hospital. We stop on the way home for some lunch at a fast-food restaurant’s drive-through window since we are now getting very hungry. (My breakfast had been interrupted no less than eight times by various hospital personnel, so I don’t remember what or when I ate it.)

My sister, Marie, is a very resourceful person. Not able to find a bridge threshold ramp that will work with our particular threshold, she goes to the basement and comes back with two wooden planks, a piece of 2-inch wide crown molding, and a piece of slick-backed insulation. She’s a genius!

Her plan works great! When I need to go for a follow-up appointment with my doctor, we won’t have to call the fire department to carry me out of the house! We are proud of ourselves, but mainly I’m proud of Marie. She figured this out!

An outing to see the physician’s assistant

I make an appointment to follow up with my primary care physician. When I explain to the lab technician how I broke my leg, she says, “You’re kidding, aren’t you? How did it really happen?” After I assure her that I’ve told her the real story, she says, “You can’t make this stuff up!”

I agree. I write some fiction, but I lack the imagination to make up the story you’ve read since Monday.

What next?

The other day I texted my friend, Kay, about the latest part of my tale of woe. Kay texted back, “LOL! What’s next?”

Less than an hour later, Marie is pushing me down the hall in my rollator. Suddenly, it becomes difficult to push. I can’t believe it when Marie says, “You have a flat tire!”

Who knew a rollator could have a flat tire?

I texted Kay. She responded, “I’ve used a rollator for years, but I’ve never had a blowout!”

My rollator is old. Marie bought it at a yard sale. It’s so old, replacement tires are not made for it. I could order one on E-Bay that might work, but for an additional $50.00 I could purchase a new rollator.

Since I won’t need the rollator forever, and I have a very resourceful sister, I don’t need to buy a new one. Marie repaired the tire with duct tape! It brought back memories of our father having tires recapped back in the day before the invention of radial tires.

Where things stand today

I can get in and out of the house in my rollator with Marie’s assistance. Of course, now we’re under a “Stay at Home” order in my county due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

I can’t put any weight on my right foot for another three-and-a-half weeks, and it remains to be seen what happens to the physical therapy I’ll need in the coming months. I can’t imagine any physical therapists will be seeing patients in the coming months.

I expect to be on a blood thinner for the next three months, since the pulmonary embolism was the result of an accident and not due to an underlying medical condition. My lung continues to hurt if I lie down flat, so I’m sleeping nearly sitting up. I still run a fever most evenings. I’m trying to learn patience.

The phone still rings and it frustrates me when the caller ID box says, “SPAM” or “Fraudulent Caller” and I wonder why the phone company isn’t filtering such calls.

One caller left a voicemail. She claimed her name was “Sunshine” and that she knew I was an author. She said she represents “a hybrid company that also invests in French National Book Rights.” She asked that I call her at 302-770-____, Ext. 87, but I didn’t. I’m only an author because I wrote a vintage postcard book, The Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina and I doubt that anyone wants to translate it into French.

By the way, the burial insurance agent called again yesterday. That recorded caller doesn’t give up easily.

Until my next blog post

Take care of yourself. Stay home, if you possibly can. Listen to the medical experts and other scientists.

Write a note of caring and thanks to someone you know – maybe to the pharmacist, the nurse at your doctor’s office, or the cashier at the grocery store.

Be resourseful! Be like Marie!

Today concludes my tale of woe since fracturing my leg on January 27.. At least, I hope the “woe” part of the tale is over. On Monday I plan to resume my usual weekly blog post.

Janet

A thank-you note
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

#YouCan'tMakeThisStuffUp Part 3 of 5

In case you missed #YouCan’tMakeThisStuffUp Part 2, here’s a link to it: https://janetswritingblog.com/2020/03/24/youcantmakethisstuffup-part-2-of-5/.

Something I forgot to include in Part 2 was when the triage nurse asked me, “Do you feel safe in your home?” (this being right after my sister has crashed into me in our kitchen and fractured my tibial plateau) and I responded, “I did until a few minutes ago!”

I know that was a very serious question, and I’m glad ER triage nurses are required to ask it, but I just couldn’t resist having a little fun with it.

Today we pick up my tale of woe just as our friend, Carol, arrives after 1:30 a.m. with a key to our house.

We thought we’d hear from you again tonight

Once she’s in the house, Marie calls the fire department and requests lift assistance. The same crew is still on duty. One of the firemen says, “We thought we’d hear from you again tonight.”

The firemen marvel that I have a fractured leg. They carry me up the porch steps and into the house in the handy-dandy rollator.

Marie and I eat I don’t remember what, but it tasted good, and we went to bed. I’m armed with a bell to ring if I need her during the night – and my cell phone so I can call her if she doesn’t hear the bell in her bedroom.

Do you need burial insurance?

The next morning we start getting daily robocalls offering us burial insurance. I don’t know if the hospital gave them my phone number or if someone told them the next day was my birthday. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood for that. In fact, the calls continue. I’m still not in the mood.

Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Birthday!
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

The next day was my birthday. Marie and I usually take each other out for dinner on our birthdays. Like many such celebrations in 2020, that celebratory meal will have to be postponed for a few months or longer.

We need a handicap ramp

When I had my follow-up appointment with an orthopedic doctor, I learned that my fracture “isn’t quite bad enough to require surgery due to your age.” He could have talked all day without referring to my age! I’m fitted with an industrial strength thigh-to-ankle leg brace that has big dials on either side of my knee and four Velcro straps that have a tendency to stick to everything except where I need them. I’m told not to put any weight on my leg for a total of 12 weeks from the date of the accident.

In light of what we learned at the orthopedist’s office, we go home and start looking for someone to build a handicap ramp at our porch. A neighbor up the road has a landscaping business. He makes time in his busy schedule to construct and install a permanent treated-wood handicap ramp for us, finishing the job literally in the red mud while sleet was falling. (I don’t know if Billy wants to go into the ramp-building business or not but, if you live in the Charlotte area and need some landscaping done or a retaining wall built – or possibly, a handicap ramp – I can vouch for Reedy Creek Lawn and Landscape in Harrisburg, NC.)

To be continue . . .

Since my last blog post (24 hours ago)

I was scheduled for knee x-rays yesterday. I wasn’t too keen on going into a doctor’s office during this coronavirus-19 pandemic, but the nurse assured me all necessary precautions were being taken.

My sister and I continued our “Lucy and Ethel” ways. While I brushed my teeth, I thought about my leg brace. I didn’t think about it again until I was sitting in the passenger seat of my 1991 pick-up truck (because it’s easier to get in and out of than Marie’s car.) She had to go back in the house to retrieve my brace. Do you know how difficult it is to put on a full-leg brace while sitting sideways in a pick-up truck? If not, I can tell you on a need-to-know basis.

When we arrived at the orthopedic doctor’s office, I called the nurse from the truck. I hopped to the door with my walker and the nurse met me there. She grabbed a wheelchair and whisked me through the deserted waiting room and straight to x-ray.

Do you know how difficult it is to stand on one foot and hold your own lead x-ray apron long enough to have two x-rays made? I can tell you, if you really want to know.

The x-rays showed that my tibial plateau fracture is healing just fine. Calcium is starting to fill in the fracture, which is a good thing. Everything looked great! Just four more weeks of not putting any weight on my right leg. I can do this! I don’t have to leave the house again until my next doctor’s appointment in April.

The day’s fun wasn’t over yet, though. At 5:00 p.m. I went on my tablet to see and hear my pastor’s devotional on Facebook Live. Facebook Live is a new thing for me. A very new thing for me.

I learned something today at 5:00 p.m. If you go to the church’s Facebook Live broadcast and hit a red button (it either said, “Video” or “Live” or something else)… anyway… I hit the red button and instead of tuning into Neal’s devotional, I recorded an 11-second video that broadcast live on my Facebook page. Fortunately, most of the 11 seconds only showed the inside cover of my tablet. That flash at the end was my lap covered by a blanket. The moral of the story is:  Never hit the red button. (My apologies to Staples and their Easy Button.)

Until my next blog post

Take care of yourself and those you care about. Check on your neighbors and people who live alone. Support local small businesses like Reedy Creek Lawn and Landscape as you can.

Tune in tomorrow for #YouCan’tMakeThisStuffUp Part 4 of 5.

Janet