Wednesday, 29 January 2014
A Bone Breakingly Good Time.
So the story plays out like this, on a dark and stormy night, the 22nd of December to be exact. I went out with a group of work collegues to a pub and after the consumption of several particularly nice ciders, I left to meet my loving and devoted girlfriend. On my travels to meet this wonderous woman I had a nasty run in with a door frame and some genius who thought it prudent to shut the heavy fire door onto my hand.
Well you could imagine this hurt quite alot I managed to wiggle my hand out from between the door and frame to look down at my hand already looking the size of a beach ball. After more than a few minutes of swearing I met my girlfirend at the nearest train station. By this time the shock had set in and I was a wreck, feeling faint and weak as hell.
This is the point of the story I can hardly remember due to the pain but as my girlfriend recalls she almost had to carry me to the closest hospital, no mean feet being nearly a foot taller and several stone heavier. When we got to the emergancy room I started to finally regain some form of lucidity and realised what was going on. I finally got seen after what felt like an age had all the tests and xrays and it had turned out I had broken all the metacarpuls in my hand the little finger was just a fracture and not so bad off. the other three were a wreck and from it looked like on the x-ray had overlaped. So bad were the breaks they said I would need surgery as soon as possible. Turned out I needed to have three metal plates screwed into my metacarpuls. Luckly or unluckly the only day they could have me in was Christmas Eve at 12pm. Great new eh?
So Christmas eve arrived and I was awoken from my very unrestful slumber by the hospital saying they wanted me to come in at 8am as they had a cancellation. Regardless of how tired, I was so pleased to have this out of the way earlier in the day. At my arrival I felt something of a VIP as it turned out I was one of only two surgery's of the day, (who knew so few people would need operating on christmas eve?) I was taken to a changing area to remove my dignity and put on my hospital gown, which shall we say was little more than a mini skirt.
After being asked nearly a dozen times if I was allergic to anything I was taken into the anesthesia theatre to have my post operation drugs. It was at this point I was starting to think I had become a pin cushion it took nearly eight stabs to find a vein they could put my drip etc in aparrently I'm not very veiny. Moving forward after that lovely experience the surgeon came in to have a quick check everything was ok just before the operation then I slipped away into unconciousness.
I awoke to about six or seven nurses darting around my bedside taking notes of my charts etc. I tried speaking but I was on so many drugs it was just a slurr of vowels. But to be frank the only thing I could focus on was how painful my hand was feeling. Only to be given a dose of 14milograms of morphine, (holy hell did that feel weird.) Eventually I came too fully and able see myself strung up with pipes, gas masks, a big cast and a foam sling. Still feeling a little wobbly I was able to get dressed and have a few biscuits then getting to leave with my girlfirend ready to celebrate Christmas.
After a foggy Christmas high on morphine and anything else they put me on, (along with a little christmas booze, See pic below.) An aching New Years several weeks of Physiotherapy multiple casts and splints I am almost the man I once was.
There you have it in full what happened and why I havent posted in a while.
See y'all soon.