Pain - Please go away (part 2) …….

This will only make sense if you have read the posting below, so go ahead…I’ll wait here until you’re done.

She came back and explained that all X-Rays are routinely checked again at the end of a shift and upon examining mine the Senior Junior Young Doctor had asked what ward I’d been sent to! Doctor Chris Evans then (presumably) said I’d been sent home and then the Senior Junior Young Doctor had then explained or shouted to him that when someone’s leg is shown to be detached from the hip by 6 inches and a shard of bone was visible, having been broken off at impact from the socket of the pelvis, that usually meant something serious. Effectively all that was attaching my right leg to my body was muscle, tendon and skin! I did see the X-Rays later and even a medical moron like me could see just how detached things were. So it was a dislocation and a fracture. As the ambulance guys wheeled me into the hospital I lay there thinking what I would do if I got hold of Dr Chris Evans again…but even then I just kept thinking about the nurse and my missed opportunity…..damn…….there I go again!

Then Doctor Death came and saw me. He was Spanish, although I never held that against anyone before this guy tainted my view for a while. His hair was jet black and he was young but with a morose look that suggested he wasn’t over-enamoured with his job…or in fact his lot in life. Anyway he proceeded to tell me that my operation was scheduled for 13:00 and it was a good job I hadn’t eaten………

“But I have…I had breakfast and a cup of tea”

His dark features darkened even more and then he flipped…..”Why you do this? You have operation booked! People have been moved for you to have this. Why you be ignorant?”

I was in pain so my tether was already close to the end.

“You patronising wanker….you fucking c**t…” said I…”You bastards send me home with a smashed in fucking leg, don’t call me until the next day and then have the bollocks to have a go because I fucking ate before an operation I didn’t even fucking know I was going to have!”

Or words to that effect. There might have been one or two more swear words used, but I lost it as big time as possible considering the pain I was in. He was unfazed and then went into a tirade about how selfish and stupid bikers were, before telling me how many decapitated bodies he dealt with from motorbike accidents, or the amount of serious brain damage he saw. According to him I was lucky to be alive. I found out later that his bedside manner was similar to everyone, thus the nickname Doctor Death. It takes all sorts I suppose.

Anyway the operation was delayed by another 7 hours and so I was left on a trolley, alone in terrible pain until they came to fix me. Strangely enough the Doctor doing the operation was a double of Gary Lineker! I started to think that perhaps this was a Twilight Zone Hospital where celebrities got to fulfil their Doctors and Nurses fantasies on real people. In my mind the pretty nurse had started to resemble Linda Lusardi….but maybe that happens all the time.

The operation was successful but I had a six week stay in hospital (with truck loads of other stories that I will tell later) in traction which included the Christmas period as well followed by six months on crutches. The Consultant (who thankfully didn’t look like a celeb) said I must have had a very high pain threshold and that in normal cases where a dislocation occurs for more than 12 hours a condition called
Avascular Necrosis can occur. Basically the blood supply to the bone is cut off or depleted during dislocation and if this occurs for long enough the bone dies. I asked the obvious question of whether it comes alive again once the blood is restored and back came the answer…which was No! The bone would then crumble and the only resolution was a hip replacement. I was 32 for fucks sake! Apparently hip replacements only last 10 years and you can only have two of them, not because of the cost, but because after two there isn’t enough bone left to secure it to! Anyway, that condition didn’t happen thankfully, but I was also told that I would increase my chances of arthritis by about 85% and that risk had increased from the moment of impact and not from the negligence of the hospital. The shard of bone from the accident had been left in my leg because it meant cutting muscle to remove it and that may have caused more damage than leaving it there.

And so, the pain I now have could be something totally different. But it could be arthritis although I imagined that to be a dull constant pain combined with difficulty moving and perhaps the odd “grinding” sensation. It may just be the shard of bone having moved into a not so friendly location – the equivalent of the old “shrapnel in the leg” excuse. All I know is that it hurts and the Ibuprofen seems to be having less effect every day.

I’ll put up with it for another 2 or 3 weeks, doing the bloke thing of ignoring it and hoping it just goes away. But then, if it hasn’t I’ll have to bite the bullet and see the Doctor. Thus my call of
Pain – please go away.


More later, GrocerJack