Temporarily Handicapped Part 1

First things first, I am not a small woman, and with that being said, having an accident that makes you wheelchair bound is not easy. People judge you immediately without looking, asking, or even simply caring. People are judgmental and quick to jump to conclusions, this is, of course, human nature and everyone does it.

So I am going to start at the beginning. At the end of January 2017, I tripped on a laundry bag. That's right, you read that completely right, I tripped... on a laundry bag. See, we have those hanging laundry bags, and my loving and amazing husband did a load of laundry, put it back in the bag for me to fold. Seems fair, right? So I walked past the bag to go to the couch to clear it off to fold the laundry, but I did not make it that far. Instead, I caught my right big toe on the hook of the bag. This action tripped me and broke my big toe, which splintered down to the long bone. While I am falling, I twist my body so I don't hit my temple on the corner of my computer desk. This action actually folded my left foot in half, breaking it right across the center; but of course, I know none of these as of yet.

I walked for two days before going to the doctor, and I use the term walk very loosely. I had an old shower curtain rod that I was using as a cane, I did not get up to walk unless I had to go to the bathroom, and I would hold off as long as humanly possible because walking was some of the worst pain I could imagine. On the dawn of the third day, I could not handle it anymore when it took me 30 minutes to walk from my front door to my car. I decided that was it, and I drove myself to urgent care.

I pull into urgent care 40 minutes before they opened. The urgent care in Spokane, Washington that I was at is part of a big building with other medical companies in it. Using crutches that my husband had just brought home from work, I hobbled across the parking lot. Twenty-five minutes later when I reached the front door, I was appalled to see all of the chairs in the lobby of the entire building filled. Their was a man who had stood up and watched me hobble across the parking lot, and as soon as I got to the front door, he ran back to his seat. A family with no less than five kids taking up an entire seating area, and people of various shapes, sizes, and abilities. I hobble in with no chair to sit on, I stand at the door of the urgent care with people just staring at me (talk about feeling self-conscious, right?). After standing there for close to 20 minutes, each minute increasing in pain and making the time seem so much longer, the doors finally unlock, and I realize I am the ONLY person standing there for the urgent care. Not a single person seemed to think a person hobbling in on crutches, who it took 25 minutes to walk across a parking lot, who is standing at the urgent care door, MIGHT POSSIBLY NEED A CHAIR! All I could think of was growing up, my parents would have made both of my brothers and I sit on the floor to let someone have a chair.

In urgent care, I sit down to talk to the doctor. I explain what happened and how I thought I may have just bruised the bone or twisted the ankle. She agreed and said worst case was I might have broken a toe. She tells me she is going to send me in for X-rays. I asked if I will have a wheel chair escort because it was just to painful to walk. She seemed almost shocked that I asked and said, of course I would, she would never make anyone walk with a possibly broken or twisted appendage. So I wait, and the X-ray tech woman comes in, and mind you, she seems just generally pissed off.

"OK, let's go get X-rays," she says very shortly.

"The doctor said I was going to have a wheel chair, I can't walk that."

"I can't FIND a wheel chair BIG enough for you with a foot rest."

"I don't care if it has a foot rest or not, I can hold my feet up if I have to! I cannot walk!" I am beyond astounded by this treatment.

The woman shows back up with a wheel chair and made me push myself, and of course, as soon as I back out of the room, there is a wheelchair, big enough for me, WITH a foot peddle, that the doctor had placed there for me. After the X-rays, I am waiting back in the room when the doctor appears with a folder.

"I am NOT supposed to show this to you yet because the specialist has not looked at it, but I have to because I simply cannot believe it." At this point my heart sinks... I know, I simply... Know.

She puts the pictures up and I glance at them.

"They are both broken aren't they?" I ask before really looking at the X-rays.

"Yes."

At this point, I just start laughing. I am without medical insurance because my work insurance picks up just over a month away and the state insurance wanted over $500 a month, that I simply cannot afford. I laugh so hard, the doctor looks at me confused.

"I had a bet with my family!" I giggle.

"Oh ya? who won?" she said, amused.

"Me!"

"Oh! What did you win then?"

"Two broken feet!!" I'm rolling laughing by this point, because honestly... I cannot believe my luck.

So the doctor starts explaining the breaks. The right foot is not too bad, I will be in a boot for a bit. The left foot, on the other hand, needs reconstructive surgery. The bones are broken to the point of being disconnected, the joints are shattered. If I do not have surgery, I will never be able to really walk again. Well... Balls.

I have to wait for my dad to get dropped off to me since urgent care will not let me drive home, one foot in a boot, one foot in a pre-surgical shoe. And he starts driving me home, we swing by the gym to put my membership on hold, and then the pharmacy where he starts getting my prescriptions filled. During this time, I am calling my mother to say I need to come stay there for who knows how long, and I call my husband to explain what happened. My father helps me into my house and sets me up on the couch, lights a fire in the wood stove, and makes me lunch and hands me the remote for the TV, he pops in every couple hours to check on me, too. I swear that was the most attentive my father has EVER been to me. The next morning, my mother shows up to pick me up and what little I was able to pack up and take to her house where we start the tasks of finding the new doctor, wheelchair that I can fit into, and get a handle on the meds.

To be continued...