A bad break

I had to work a closing shift on Friday, Feb. 25th. I absolutely hate closing shifts. I managed to get through the night, and was looking forward to having only one more day to go before I had a day off. All night it had been drizzling. I had no idea that while we were working, the temperature had dropped drastically.


I shut the lights off and breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't take long for the crew to finish up, and I wasn't much longer. I walked out the side door, locked it, and turned to step off the curb.





Without warning and with no chance of recovery, I slipped on the ice and hit the ground like a sack of bricks. Instantly, I knew my arm was broken. I was writhing and yelling to the darkness, "It's broken, I just know it's broken!" I'm not sure how long I sat there before deciding that I had to get inside and call 911. When I rolled to my right, to gain my footing, the left arm dangled gruesomely, and it was then that I saw the blood. My light blue down jacket had a big blood stain on it, and I realized that this was worse than a simple broken bone.





I made it inside and and dialed 911. Not sure how long it took the ambulance to arrive, but it seemed like a while. That's when the shaking began. By the time they arrived, I was shaking so violently that I could hardly walk. Inside the ambulance, they were able to get my jacket off somehow, and needed to get an IV started. It took all my willpower to stop shaking long enough for the EMT to put it in. I have never been in such pain in my life. One of them made the comment, "Arms aren't supposed to go in that direction."



The ambulance took me Rhode Island Hospital. I was hyperventilating, and on oxygen, trying to breathe normally. It just wasn't happening. Every turn and bump sent more waves of pain through me. Inside the ER, a cop bumped my arm, squeezing between me and the desk. The pain was excruciating, and I tried not to scream. One of the EMT guys with me said "That was the worst thing you could have done, dude!" I didn't hear a word from the cop.

Meanwhile, there was a drunk woman in a wheelchair, going on and on about being "disrespected" and judged because of her false eyelashes. Feeling I had nothing to lose, I yelled out, "Shut up, lady!!". I doubt that she heard me.



I was wheeled into a room from there, and relieved to see that I was the only one in it. They had to move me from the ambulance stretcher to the hospital table. Awful. My shirt had to be cut off. An X-ray tech came in, and I give him credit for his compassion. He just had to do his job.

By then it was 3:15 (I could see the clock on the wall). The morphine was finally beginning to kick in. I became concerned that Joe would come home and not know where I was. For some reason, we couldn't find my cell phone. Joe's work number would be on it. Then when it was found, and the nurse dialed it, she said the number didn't work. There was a bit of back and forth, trying to figure out how to reach him, but ultimately, he called me.

To be continued...