It’s the strangest thing – I hurt all over! It totally feels like I took a massive header on my scooter and dislocated my shoulder! So wacky.
I managed to survive the latest incident in the excellent life of Kimli, no thanks in part to the awesome man who stopped to make sure I wasn’t dead. It must have been a great site; I was lying on the ground tangled up in Sally and trying desperately to get up except I couldn’t. My disease ridden Spidey-sense kicked in again; when he asked if I was okay I squeaked out “I think I dislocated my shoulder ..” and sure enough, that’s what I did. It hurt. A lot. Andrew (my guardian cabinetry maker) called 911 (the first time 911 has been called because of me, not by me), then called Ed (trying to remember his work number when I was tasting concrete [the asphalt, not the guy] was not at all challenging) to age him prematurely by telling him his wife had been in an accident. Andrew made me a pillow, then stayed put until the three (!) cars of paramedics arrived – a cop car, a fire truck and an ambulance.
The paramedics asked me a bunch of questions, then got Sally off me (I was still tangled in her). They rolled me over and loaded me onto a stretcher – my first time on one! Whee! Then they took me into the ambulance, where they poked at me to determine I wasn’t going to die then and there before we took off for the hospital.
A word to the wise – if anyone is planning on doing anything that requires a trip to the hospital, it would be a good idea to NOT wear any of your favourite clothing. Throughout this entire ordeal, I am totally pissed that they had to cut off my favourite hoodie – irreplaceable, since the store is sold out – and cut up my favourite shirt so they could get to my shoulder. They managed to save my jacket, but STILL. SO ANNOYED. Today I am going out to look for a new hoodie. Yes, my priorities are totally in place.
My injuries were not life-threatening enough to warrant the siren, but they took me to the hospital (handily located just up the road) and loaded me into the emergency room where I began the waiting game. Ed had arrived back home by breaking several laws of both speed and physics just after the ambulance took off, but Andrew the Awesome had waited at our place for Ed to arrive so he could tell him which hospital I was taken to. Andrew is the best. He restored my faith in humanity.
The hospital experience really sucked ass. I had to wait for 4 hours before I could get in to be X-rayed, and they wouldn’t give me any kind of painkiller until about hour 3. I went through several panic attacks because I couldn’t move or sit up, and managed to wiggle myself down my bed so I was hanging off the edge by about 18 inches, losing my shoes and socks in the process. Ed made it to the hospital shortly after I arrived, and he soothed me and rebuffed my many attempts to just get up and go home already because lying there in severe pain was not as much fun as I had anticipated.
I did finally get in to be x-rayed. Unfortunately, it was Bring a Complete Newb to Work Day, and the X-Rayettes had to take SEVEN shots before they were able to confirm the diagnosis I had made hours earlier – yep, dislocated shoulder. The x-ray process was horrible, because every time the X-Rayettes discovered their latest attempt at interior photography was of my foot or the floor, they made me roll over onto my good side so they could shove the board thing under me and prop me up with foam Lego. What seemed like a million years later, they said “like, okay! We totally got a good shot! Tee hee!” and I was wheeled back to my spot in the First Aid area of the emergency room.
After my Adventures in Radiology, the rest went by fairly quickly. They gave me this cool tube that contained not the internet but laughing gas, and when I was sufficiently high as a kite, they wrassled my arm back into its socket. It hurt like a goddamn bastard, but apparently was cool to watch and I squeaked a lot (but didn’t scream because I am totally a ninja). They gave me a sling, a few T3s, and shooed us out of the hospital. Ed fed me and took me home, and I used my good hand to text message a bunch of people my whereabouts – just a normal Thursday in the life of Kimli.
So, here we are. It’s a long weekend because we Canadians are surprisingly religious, so I’m sitting at my desk wrapped in my sling and wondering how the hell I’m going to shower, since it hurts my everything to move. I’m stuck in the sling for at least a week, meaning I can’t drive (Ed has volunteered to be my chauffer) or scoot or play any Wii games. Boo! I know I’m lucky that the accident wasn’t a lot worse, and in the end everything is good. Sally is totally fine; she’s in better shape than I am – and all my friends are having an excellent time making fun of me and threatening to put training wheels on my scooter. All in all, it was an adventure – one I’m not looking to repeat any time soon, but thanks to the awesome people looking out for me and the get well wishes (and the yummy gourmet cookies the space station sent over), I shall soon be on the mend and totally ready to hurt myself in other spectacular ways.
I totally found down, though.