Possibly the worst week ever.
I could have titled this post as a 'How Not To Be Elegant', but that would be a bit glib, given this is a pretty serious post.
Sunday started normally, I was in work and therefore a bit blue. L and I were working in the warehouse when I had an accident. My left hand got slammed in between two parts of a metal barrier. It hurt but I thought it had just bruised a couple of my fingers so I swore like a sailor, but then I looked down and saw the blood. My little and ring fingers were cut badly.
We called for a first aider and an ambulance which took myself and a most upset L to hospital. I was fairly calm, I have a fairly high pain threshold and saw no point in panicking. As it would only make things worse. I figured after an X-ray and stitches, I would fine. Wrong!
After a massive wait in A and E (cock up by triage nurse, my dad very unhappy) and an x-ray, it became clear I would need more than stitches. I have fractured both my little finger and ring finger and I was told I would need surgery to 'explore the wound' and I would also be put on IV antibiotics to prevent infection (despite leaving me in A&E for 4 hours with an open wound and not cleaning it. Then the bitch triage nurse told me to clean off my own hands. How she expected me to do it with broken fingers I am not sure.).
So they put a dressing on my left hand and a canula in my right elbow area for the drugs. Why my elbow I don't know as I am left handed with a broken left hand and now with limited movement in my right arm due to the needle that is in there. Clever that.
I was taken to the ward, the gyne ward too, as there was no room in orthopedics and put on nil by mouth for the operation later that day. The consultant saw me and told me due to a big emergency I would be here over night. Upsetting but inevitable.
So I spent a restless night with my arm held upright in a sling and a noisy old woman who refused to go to sleep. The next morning the consultant popped in again and told me I would have my operation that day. I waited all day, nil by mouth again, until at 5pm when my family visited and nothing had happened. So the nurses went to find out.
They had canceled my operation and not bothered to inform the ward! I was gutted and at this point I properly broke down in tears for the first time. It meant another uncomfortable night away from home and no progress on my injury. I will admit I was actually scared at this point and had nightmares that they'd left it too long and had to amputate my fingers.
I slept a little better on Monday night but woke up with itchy legs. I rolled down my dead sexy anti-DVT stockings and saw a red lumpy rash all up legs and hips. To add insult to injury it turns out I am apparently allergic to the antibiotics they gave me!! After forgoing my morning dose the consultant changed me to another antibiotic which he said they would give me in theatre. Hurray, I was going to theatre!
Finally after the usual grilling by the anesthetist, I got my surgery done. This meant putting a wire in my little finger, as the bone is not only broken but crushed. Luckily my tendons weren't cut and my nerves seem fine. The only problem is the rash has spread! It now covers about 70% of my body it is even in my belly button and on my scalp! I look like a plague victim. It would appear I am also allergic to the SECOND antibiotic they gave me!!!!
But I'm just glad to be home. I'll have to have physio but I am completely determined to get my full range of movement back. I am now in the odd position of having my dominant hand in plaster, so I have to do everything one-handed but also wrong-handed. Signing the consent form was fun!
Anyway, I typed all this one handed so I reckon I need a rest!
