With an icepack on my foot & it supported by the crew members coats, Peter the skipper drove me the 2 hr journey back to the local A & E in Tunbridge Wells, I found a seat & still in Musto & Dubarry's along with my bag of foulies & sailing gear I began to wait.....
After a while I hopped over to the reception desk & enquired if I should sign in or something ? The receptionist beckoned to a seat in front of her & began to take down my details, the foot was growing nicely at this point, along with the throbbing. After completing a few basic questions, nature of problem, name address etc, she then informed me I'd need to make my way to the minor injuries unit, which was a five minute walk or so through a few corridors. I politely asked if there was a wheelchair available, "no, sorry we're short of those today" she replied, so I picked up my bag & began to hop whilst holding on to whatever secure props along the way i could reach. Luckily, a rather nice chap saw the size of my now rather colourful & odd shaped foot & offered me his arm. On arrival in the MIU, he also found me a wheel chair & sat me down, passing the paperwork I'd been given to the reception desk, by now it was around 3 1/2 hrs since I'd done the deed.
After about another hour or so, I was feeling pretty sick with the pain, a Dutch woman (who was there with her daughter who'd fallen from her horse & had suspected concussion) noticed my discomfort & highlighted this to the medical staff. Along came a young doctor who after enquiring about allergies etc, gave me a couple of co codamol, all the while still no one had looked at or examined said foot !
Eventually after a takeaway from Wagamamas (also kindly provided by the Dutch lady) I was taken through for assessment, by now it was almost 10pm, 4 hrs after I'd arrived ! After X-ray lovely young doc, confirmed I'd broken a metatarsal & prescribed a back slab plaster, some co codamol & an outpatients appt at the fracture clinic in 4 days time.
Shortly after this, I was greeted by the lovely smiling face of a chap from the Phillipines, "Hi I'm Johnathan & I'm your plasterer" was his opening line, I resisted the urge to respond with a quip about his screeding skills. After a brief discussion about the size of the cast, I explained that the sailing trousers I was wearing were new & I was reluctant to lose them due to them not being able to be removed, Johnathan scratched his head for a while & looked a little embarrassed. A flash of inspiration then led me to explain to the lovely Johnathan that I had my very baggy foulie trousers (heavy duty sailing waterproofs) in my bag & suggested that if I removed the ones I was wearing until he had finished his 'plastering' I could then put these foulie's on to go home in !
Johnathan left me in the cubicle, I proceeded to squirm around on the hospital bed, whilst trying to wriggle my trousers down until they fell off of my feet. I then grabbed the hospital gown that had been left to spare my blushes, wrapped it around my waist & waited........
When Johnathan reappeared he looked a little embarrassed & explained that he needed me to lie face down on the bed, with the offending foot hanging over the end. Again I squirmed myself into position & found myself face down, with the hospital gown covering my bum & thighs & one leg bent up at the knee with Johnathan now sitting at the end of the bed with his bucket of water & plaster of Paris at the ready to begin his sculpture. Up to now, my foot had been permanently in a pointed toe position that would make most ballet dancers proud, Johnathan did his best to bend it back into a normal angle/alignment with my ankle & proceeded to slab the plaster around the back & heel to hold it in place. I grimaced & gulped, blushing red with embarrassment, becoming tearful & emotional with the pain in front of everyone was not an option, I'd already decided.
Plastering finished, I then pulled my foulies out of the bag, bright red dungarees with the grey all weather bum & knee patches, normal for sailing but obviously not really Tunbridge Wells fashion, there was no choice I concluded as I pulled them on, again squirming, a few grunts escaped as I managed to wriggle into them & sat upright. Armed with crutches I then wobbled precariously out of the cubicle, fully appreciating every pound of the 9 3/4 stones I weighed. How on earth am I supposed to be able to support myself & be mobile I wondered to myself as my biceps throbbed & shook in protest !
Dutch lady had become quite concerned about me & so kindly offered to take me home once my cast had set. Home is a maisonette contained within a three floor converted Victorian building, requiring a steep flight of stairs to get to the front door & then further conquering of another staircase to get to the loo...........
After getting me inside, Dutch lady left me with her contact details, along with a bar of Galaxy chocolate (emergency provisions) & departed. I was indeed deeply grateful for the kindness this lady who had in fact been a total stranger up until a few hours earlier, had shown me. Thank god for the good Samaritans on this planet !
After a while I hopped over to the reception desk & enquired if I should sign in or something ? The receptionist beckoned to a seat in front of her & began to take down my details, the foot was growing nicely at this point, along with the throbbing. After completing a few basic questions, nature of problem, name address etc, she then informed me I'd need to make my way to the minor injuries unit, which was a five minute walk or so through a few corridors. I politely asked if there was a wheelchair available, "no, sorry we're short of those today" she replied, so I picked up my bag & began to hop whilst holding on to whatever secure props along the way i could reach. Luckily, a rather nice chap saw the size of my now rather colourful & odd shaped foot & offered me his arm. On arrival in the MIU, he also found me a wheel chair & sat me down, passing the paperwork I'd been given to the reception desk, by now it was around 3 1/2 hrs since I'd done the deed.
After about another hour or so, I was feeling pretty sick with the pain, a Dutch woman (who was there with her daughter who'd fallen from her horse & had suspected concussion) noticed my discomfort & highlighted this to the medical staff. Along came a young doctor who after enquiring about allergies etc, gave me a couple of co codamol, all the while still no one had looked at or examined said foot !
Eventually after a takeaway from Wagamamas (also kindly provided by the Dutch lady) I was taken through for assessment, by now it was almost 10pm, 4 hrs after I'd arrived ! After X-ray lovely young doc, confirmed I'd broken a metatarsal & prescribed a back slab plaster, some co codamol & an outpatients appt at the fracture clinic in 4 days time.
Shortly after this, I was greeted by the lovely smiling face of a chap from the Phillipines, "Hi I'm Johnathan & I'm your plasterer" was his opening line, I resisted the urge to respond with a quip about his screeding skills. After a brief discussion about the size of the cast, I explained that the sailing trousers I was wearing were new & I was reluctant to lose them due to them not being able to be removed, Johnathan scratched his head for a while & looked a little embarrassed. A flash of inspiration then led me to explain to the lovely Johnathan that I had my very baggy foulie trousers (heavy duty sailing waterproofs) in my bag & suggested that if I removed the ones I was wearing until he had finished his 'plastering' I could then put these foulie's on to go home in !
Johnathan left me in the cubicle, I proceeded to squirm around on the hospital bed, whilst trying to wriggle my trousers down until they fell off of my feet. I then grabbed the hospital gown that had been left to spare my blushes, wrapped it around my waist & waited........
When Johnathan reappeared he looked a little embarrassed & explained that he needed me to lie face down on the bed, with the offending foot hanging over the end. Again I squirmed myself into position & found myself face down, with the hospital gown covering my bum & thighs & one leg bent up at the knee with Johnathan now sitting at the end of the bed with his bucket of water & plaster of Paris at the ready to begin his sculpture. Up to now, my foot had been permanently in a pointed toe position that would make most ballet dancers proud, Johnathan did his best to bend it back into a normal angle/alignment with my ankle & proceeded to slab the plaster around the back & heel to hold it in place. I grimaced & gulped, blushing red with embarrassment, becoming tearful & emotional with the pain in front of everyone was not an option, I'd already decided.
Plastering finished, I then pulled my foulies out of the bag, bright red dungarees with the grey all weather bum & knee patches, normal for sailing but obviously not really Tunbridge Wells fashion, there was no choice I concluded as I pulled them on, again squirming, a few grunts escaped as I managed to wriggle into them & sat upright. Armed with crutches I then wobbled precariously out of the cubicle, fully appreciating every pound of the 9 3/4 stones I weighed. How on earth am I supposed to be able to support myself & be mobile I wondered to myself as my biceps throbbed & shook in protest !
Dutch lady had become quite concerned about me & so kindly offered to take me home once my cast had set. Home is a maisonette contained within a three floor converted Victorian building, requiring a steep flight of stairs to get to the front door & then further conquering of another staircase to get to the loo...........
After getting me inside, Dutch lady left me with her contact details, along with a bar of Galaxy chocolate (emergency provisions) & departed. I was indeed deeply grateful for the kindness this lady who had in fact been a total stranger up until a few hours earlier, had shown me. Thank god for the good Samaritans on this planet !
