The Writing Was On The Wall

It's been so freaking busy, like, "when can I breathe?" busy, that writing has had to wait a bit, ya know, people in pain.....sometimes, I'm not saying all the time, but sometimes, need a little extra attention. Ahem, no names mentioned...yet.

I have not even a clue as to what day it is..is that a bipolar thing, a 50 yr old thing, or a blur of events thing? If you said, "blur of events," I love you! The rest of you...well, whatever, I love you too.

Evidently there is no doctor in the area that knows a doctor that specializes in rib-cage trauma. A bit funny, I think when after a little time online, I found an outstanding team of trauma specialists that have a very accomplished, though apparently, invisible rib specialist.

The accident was April 27th. That's what? 3 and a half months ago? That sounds like I'm counting or something.....

Jeff's pain level the other day was about 10. For Jeff, as so many know, meant he was in a lot of pain for him to even admit that. He also was short of breath, had a tight feeling in his chest, not great symptoms.

I called the rib clinic to see when they could get him in. When I told the nurse what was happening, she told us to get to the Emergency Department ASAP. It was strange, that after all the time that has passed, he was having that level of pain, and his shortness of breath could mean a collapsed lung.

Guess who dug his heels in? Yes, that would be correct. Finally when I explained all that she had said, he agreed to go, but said he would only wait 30 minutes then would leave with, or without, me. Wasn't too worried, I had the keys.

They got him right back in a room, and then the heavens opened. The MOST gorgeous doctor I have ever seen walked in. He was young, but he was, "I want your picture," HOT!

I looked at him and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight ma'am."

LIGHT BULB! I have a beautiful 23 yr old daughter, he was 28, and freaking gorgeous, I had to find a way to get him her number, but SOMEONE in the room wouldn't let me....I mean that hot doc could be in our family and I'd get to look at him at all family occasions, and her Dad was holding me back? Clearly he wasn't picturing days at the beach with the girls being able to stare at the abs the doc most certainly had.

Oh, yeah, I forgot about Jeff for a minute. Hot doc ordered X-Rays. X-Ray dudes walked into the room and one had a very familiar style of tattoo. Me being me, I talk to anyone, and everyone.

"Where you get your work done?"

"Dead Gods Tattoo in Tigard."

"Joe does your work doesn't he?"

"You know Joe? Dominick? Eric?"

"Yeah! They do our work!"

Then Jeff had to interrupt my conversation and remind us, uh, me, that hot doc had ordered X-Rays. Ok, whatever. They took him, then he was back in a flash.

We waited a bit, then the doc came back in with an older doctor. They had puzzled looks on their faces.

"There's something in my gut that says we need to do a CT," the older doctor said, at least that's what Jeff said he said. I was too busy planning my daughter's wedding, and pretending to see the abs that were most definitely under hot doc's shirt.

He continued, "The film shows you have 8 broken ribs, and lots of other fractures, they all appear healed, but I really feel we need a CT."

Back they took him. He was back in the room in a flash and was squirming.

"Are you in pain?"

"No, I have to pee!"

"There's a bathroom behind the curtain."

"Ok."

I sat there, listening to him pee...and then nothing. There was total silence and then I heard, "OH NO!"

"What?"

"It says in HUGE letters DO NOT USE TOILET! What am I going to do now?"

"You still have to pee?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well finish. What's it going to hurt at this point?"

Then he did his thing, came back into the room, looking a tad embarrassed. "Teri, what if the toilet is broken? What if I flush it and it overflows?"

I just looked at him. Then he began laughing, then harder, then to the point where he couldn't breathe.

"What's so funny?"

"Go find a vending machine and see if they have a Baby Ruth. I'm going to drop it in the toilet."

Ok, it was my turn to be the adult, "The hell you are!"

He kept laughing.

Finally the doctors came back. They had puzzled looks on their faces.

"Four of your ribs are healed, and four are not even close to touching. That's weird, they should have knitted together by now. The Trauma clinic will have this CT and the specialist will go over it in more detail than I can."

"Your lungs are good. No pooling of blood, no clots, no trapped air. They are ok, for now. If you have ANY of the same symptoms, or ones that are worse, get back in here as soon as you can."

I looked at Jeff with pleading eyes, ya know, to give Hot Doc our daughter's number. I could tell by his look, I would be buried beside the guinea pigs in the back yard if I said a word. He spoils ALL of my fun!

Then a nurse came in with discharge papers. He read them, signed them and as she was about to leave, I got a bit of revenge.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"He peed in the toilet."