As I mentioned in a few previous blogs, I had to go to the hospital this morning for an assessment of my broken leg, It was a frantic morning. It was frantic because it was so-called Maundy Thursday, the day before the Easter holidays, when every one besieges all the supermarkets buying anything that goes under name of food, because they are convinced that famine will break out.
It needed careful planning on my side as both I and Mr. Swiss had doctor’s appointments, mine this morning and his this afternoon. In between we had to get a few final shopping chores completed. I stopped hugging my bed this morning and ate my breakfast not having time for the computer. From the computer it was to the bathroom where Mr. Swiss was just finishing. In the meanwhile I had filled my walker with my bag containing my Kindle and my camera. I knew I would be waiting at the hospital so had something to read whilst waiting. The camera is always handy, you never know what might be handy for a photo.
We eventually drove off and I reported to the x-ray office.
There was a small crowd waiting and I told Mr. Swiss to continue on his journey to the supermarket as my waiting time was now beginning. I arranged to let him know when I was finished. The stress of the day had begun. I had my x-ray and afterwards saw the assistant doc who left me almost an hour laying on a bed before he found the surgeon. The surgeon had a look at my leg, bent it and twisted it and discovered everything was OK and afterwards dismissed me saying I should put more weight on my injured leg. If he only knew.
I was now ready to call Mr. Swiss, but he had already arrived in the meanwhile. He confirmed that today on Maundy Thursday all hell had broken loose in the supermarket. He had to wait for a parking space as there were so many people. I did not say in exact words “I told you so”, but it was not really necessary.
And now for the frantic part of the afternoon. Mr. Swiss departed for his doctor and I knew he would be back in just over an hour. I decided to sort my washing, with some help from No. 1 son who would fetch the washing basket. No problem, but I lost my balance reaching to the bottom of the washing. I called my son for help, he came, but did not have the strength to stop me from arriving on the floor. My problem is that once down, gravity has got me and does not release me. I had two alternatives: call Mr. Swiss, who could never lift me, how hard he would try, or call the hospital rescue. I decided on the second.
I made a quick phone call, explained the problem and two burly men with a lady dressed in their combat uniforms arrived with their ambulance. The saw my situation, me on the floor, checked if I had any injuries, which I did not. I just could not stand up. In a couple of minutes I was sitting in a chair after they pulled me up. They inspected my walking ability, which I could with help from my walker or stick and left. Five minutes later Mr. Swiss walked in and asked why an ambulance was parked in our side street. I filled him in on the details, and he found I acted well, as he could never have been able to lift my 80 kilo weight on his own.
I have now learned not to sort the washing on my own. Yes it was a frantic day – how was yours?