Thursday, February 16, 2012

That's The Way It (Read I) Went Down - Part 3

Now where was our hero?  (Or at least my hero.  I only have me.  The knight on the white horse was incontinent and the fucking horse dumped on my lawn....)

A little more back story....  This isn't Sporty Spice's first time at the "oh jeepers not this" rodeo....  At my first Half in San Francisco, the Queen (real girl) and I took a cab to the start line.  Upon exiting, I sliced my knee open on a stray piece of plastic on the door handle.  Oh lucky ME.  Fortunately, the Queen had a bandage and all was made right.  In Buffalo (Half # 7 or 8), I moved to the grass behind other participants and quickly stepped in a hole and fell flat of my face.  With a loud squeal, I mean Umppphfff.  Either way, "Ho Down".   I picked me-self up, dusted me-self off and started all over again.  (From Pick Myself Up).  So Sporty Spice had been down before....

So once ensconced into the ER my handsome male suitors (you know they wanted ME) passed me off to Nurse Jesus.  Or Jessica.  She is/was/will always be MY Angel.  This woman came to me and from that moment on, I feared NOTHING.  I wasn't really scared once.   Even though I knew where I was and why, the "unknown" can be troublesome.  But NOT with my Jessica.  I asked her why my "men in uniform" were leaving me and she assured me it was to slay other dragons and to rescue other pretty lads.  Ahhhh.  She knows me!  I am VAIN and I do not lie about this.  (I didn't say I don't lie.  I said not about this!)

My wonderful family gives me such prose to work with.  And sometimes drivel and sometimes brilliance.  I was raised with:

"I wouldn't Lie to you, Unless it would HELP me."  ,,,,, No explanation necessary!

So, Jessica and I were best buds for the next 3+ hours.  Now I shall insert a photo to show you what she was able to accomplish.  This is me 4 hours after arriving.  I can tell you it was far worse before.

So my Angel, gently scrubbed and massaged and tended to me.  But most of all, She so soothed and comforted my spirit.  I never want to get into an accident again (and I never want you to either) but if you or I or we do, I pray to God it's in Palm Springs.  So here's the next 3 hours in a nutshell...

I had my shirt cut-off (read my fucking nipples were rock hard from that) and my face cleaned and then Scott took me for my first 2 CT scans.  I purred, I hope I was supposed to.  Then poor Jim tired to check me in.  I felt sorry for him.  He was the ping-pong ball.  Then Jessica told me about the double GSW.  (I hope you all know this is a Gun Shot Wound.  If not, you fail Law and Order class.)  That was interesting.  Then I went back with Frank for a Face CT to make sure of no facial fractures.  (And they know I'm uninsured.  But Jessica tells me they are more interested in ME than insurance.  And I believe her.  And I still do.  I only work to afford the things I want.  And I want a pretty face and NO fractures.)

Finally without the other mundane reporting, I tell Jess that my neck hurts and I beg her to remove the neck brace.  But we have to wait for Dr. B.  They finally get the OK from Dr B and they set me free sorta. 

ASIDE #2.  I tell Jessica not long after arriving that they should skip the hard stuff, I'm uninsured.  And that I'm SOOOOOO sure I will be doing the Half Marathon on Sunday.  (Seems I might be a boy after all.  hafuckingha)  She gently strokes my arm and says "Honey I don't think you will be walking further than the toilet and probably not so happy about that.  My Angel was right.  5 days later and I still hurt like hell and I ain't doing much.  I need to do more, but that's for the weekend.  My wounds hurts so little.  My bones and muscles ache like hell.  But I must remove myself from Percocet.  I only have two more. 

IRONY TIME:  I never leave home without money.  (Sometimes the AE, but Cash is King for any Queen.)  I had $65 in cash, my ID and my iPhone in a pouch under the seat of my bike.)  Remember the officer (Honey, Ms Kennedy) took it with her.  So when Angel asked me if I want to call someone I said, "Yes, but I don't have my phone.)

Short and long, I leave 2 separate messages for Cola.  And since he didn't pick up on the second call, I worry if he's in the hospital too.  Finally Sister Jetson, brings me in 2 small containers of Apple Juice and a Turkey Sandwich.  (This is where I fucking HATE bringing of British descent.)  I gingerly open one of the Apple Juices and am ashamed I drink half of the container.  And I do mean embarrassed.  What do I have to offer?  Some wonder what it's like be white and of European descent?  That's it.  Fucking embarrassed that I drank MORE than 2 ounces.  And I can't afford that.  I have NO money, no phone and NOW I realize I wasn't even capable of walking back to the hotel even if I had wanted to.  (I assure you that this is better being a BLOG and not a VLOG.  I cry pretty-ly, but prefer you not to see.)

So the animal kicks in....That half a container of Apple Juice was manna from heaven.  I finished the container and eager tore into the second one and drained it dry.  The sandwich was 2 fold.  50/50.  I was embarrassed to eat it, but also my mouth was nearly shut because of dried blood.  So eating was very difficult.  I took it knowing they would never give it to another patient.  But I never ate it.  And yes, I fucking felt guilty.  But it was too late, I'd already taken it with me.

This is where I will end Part 3.  There is a Part 4 (and maybe 5 now), but those will have to wait for tomorrow or Saturday.  (I will lay odds on tomorrow. I need this.)

Thanks for riding.  And I do love you!  (Conditionally. See I am British.  haha)


1 comment:

  1. Yipes!
    Just eat the damn muffin, cherub!

    The bad things are going to happen to us whether we deserve them or not. So you might as well enjoy what you can, while you can.