Knee jerk reactions, part 1: How

TRIGGER ALERT

I have always been good in a crisis. I fall apart weeks later.

As is typical for me, I was doing 3 things at once. Family was coming for dinner, and I was picking up clutter, making gazpacho, and doing laundry. I multitask to keep from getting bored, but (numbnut that I am) I fully understand it kept me from focusing and caused this accident. By all that is holy, I'm gonna change!  

Our washer and dryer are in the garage sitting on a concrete step. Built in the mid-1990's it is not wide enough to comfortably hold the newfangled humongo appliances AND a human being without paying close attention to where you are. I was not. I slipped and began my descent. As I fell, I concentrated on shielding my upper body. I did not anticipate my right knee might hit the concrete step where the riser meets the tread.

I heard the crunch and knew I'd broken my patella. I later learned it was broken into three pieces, plus change. However, I felt nothing at first. It was surreal. I was able to roll over onto my back (probably not a good idea). I instinctively raised my knee, searching for a comfortable position (also probably not a good idea) as the pain escalated. I found my pain-free position before the worst of the pain kicked in, absolutely not considering the maxim that what goes up must come down. I wasn't thinking.

I screamed for my husband, T. I didn't scream for the pain, by the way. I screamed for the horror.  And, of course, because T is hard of hearing.

I could see he was shaken as he looked at the grotesque condition of my knee. My man was so freakin' sweet to me as he called the ambulance and packed my overnight bag. Let me just say to the entire world: I love that man.

Almost immediately, 4 kind EMT's shot me up with potent painkillers and lifted me onto the stretcher. I was deliriously happy to see one was a woman, so I took the time to congratulate her on being in a non-traditional job. I should have asked if they were registered to vote. Unfortunately, I forgot.

Away we flew to the Orlando Hospital trauma unit, sirens flashing. I have to admit, that was fun. 

I couldn't sit up to see so I begged an EMT to take pictures for future reference. I'm a total fiend. Unfortunately, my phone was in my overnight bag in T's car. He was following the ambulance.  Bummer.

At that point there was no possibly of straightening my leg, or moving at all without inflicting excruciating pain. Thankfully, the EMT's thought they'd let the doctors deal with that. I was transported to and into the ER with what looked like a leg with three knees sticking straight up in the air. People stared.

The head EMT got into a snippy argument with an aide about how to move me from the ambulance gurney onto the hospital stretcher. He wasn't taking any shit, and insisted it be done his way. I trusted him with my life but I felt sorry for the aide. Geez, I love hospital dynamics, it's always like watching a movie.

To be continued.