At some point early in the pandemic, ER doctors started to wonder where all their standard emergencies were. They were seeing plenty of COVID, but where were their heart attacks, strokes, Knife & Gun Club victims? While I can't answer for those, I can address my own emergency. I was delivered straight to their doors.
My ER tour was predicated by the snap of an ivy vine. Clearly it protested my rude jerk on its length, and opted to present me with my own rude awakening. In the second-and-a-half between that too-quick release and my brick landing, I remember thinking (while trying to regain balance), "This could be bad... Head, shoulder, elbow, hip... Maybe I won't hurt anything... " As instinct kicks in, my hand reaches to catch my fall; my left wrist takes the hit. I instantly knew it was broken; I just did not yet know how badly.
THANK GOD #1: Pandemic-waylaid Beau was home.
He immediately came outside when he heard my commotion. He helped me to sit up and I oh-so-carefully gathered my injured wing and cradled it in my lap. I couldn't look – didn't want to. A towel-wrapped ice pack from the freezer and a leftover pain pill from Beau's months-prior wisdom teeth extraction were the first order of business. (So sue me if I'm the only one who keeps leftover pain meds around for emergencies like this one.)
He called OrthoCarolina's X-ray clinic to see if they were still open. It was coming up on 9:00 and I thought they might close at that hour. Silly woman... It was April 20th; Everything and Everybody was CLOSED. Meanwhile, my shocked body broke out in a cold sweat. Followed by the deepest, longest stretch of sobbing I have experienced in my entire life. Pure. Unmitigated. Pain.
COVID be damned; our ONLY option was the Emergency Room. So be it. Beau enters Novant into his iPhone while my body's rhythm clocks like a metronome set at 100 beats a minute.
Exhale 8 beats (atonal staccato): "hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh"
Inhale 2 beats (fortepiano): "S O B... "
Exhale 8 beats: "hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh, hnh"
Inhale 2 beats: "S O B... "
We arrive at what appears to be a totally deserted Emergency Department. Beau parks in the empty drive-through, puts on his mask and walks around the car to help me out. We both enter to Check-In – he will speak for me and handle administration. I will sob woefully at their plexiglass window. It's right at 9:00.
By 9:21, I've been X-rayed while sitting in place, diagnosed with a dislocated hand to accompany my broken radius, and IV-dosed with Dilaudid. As pain relief kicks in, I let out an immense sigh. The sobbing finally comes to an end.
The orthopedic surgeon on call appears, followed shortly by this "contraption". In spite of years working in operating rooms all over this country, I find it difficult to describe. Think Edward Scissorhands. But Edward himself is a pole and his scissors are clamps. I know this thing will be used to stabilize my fingers and hand while they reposition my ivy-assaulted body part. Uh-oh.
But there's good news... Edward Clampyhands comes with Propofol. And Staff! There must be 5 humans in the room to ensure I don't go the way of Michael Jackson. Anesthesiology, Respiratory, Pulmonology... Damn, where's the crash cart?
And then, it's done. Time travel effected, my wing is wrapped and braced; the room now empty except for me and the fine front-line hero fixin' to roll me out to the car. Beau has the car running, instructions in hand, and we head for home. We arrive before 11:00.
Wait, what?
Start to finish, my ER visit was less than 2 hours. Including X-rays, awaiting a surgeon on call, and a specialist-heavy anesthesia-supported procedure. THAT WAS AWESOME!! Novant's ED was spotless, perfectly staffed, COVID-protocolled, and very happy to see me. So while the world is quite understandably avoiding Emergency Departments, my experience was a RARE case of a COVID benefit. Gods be Good!
Aftermath
My hero Dr. Romanowski performed Distal Radius Open Reduction with Internal Fixation less than 36 hours later. My Occupational Therapist was a doll that I loved spending the time with - in spite of the fact that she left me sore from her good work. And I can do push-ups a mere 6 months later. Carefully. Girl-style. Push-ups nonetheless.
THANK GOD #2: Obamacare with Novant is Worthy.
As a patient with pre-existing conditions, I credit Obamacare with my ability to have insurance at all. My 2019 plan was with Charlotte's might-as-well-be-a-monopoly provider and featured a ludicrous deductible that would have me in hock for years to come. My 2020 switch to Novant gave me better coverage with a completely reasonable deductible. And I couldn't be happier with their care.
ttfn,
