Hospitals, the last time I was in need of a hospital I had a 5 hour wait, finally being seen at 1am in the morning.  As it turns out Saturday nights are prime time for the emergency departments with lots of drunken accidents coming in.  So I didn’t have high expectations as I made my way into the emergency room.  Looking around I noticed the emergency room was empty “I suppose that is a good sign” I thought to myself as I made my way still in my lycra riding pants to the nurse sitting behind the Perspex window.  I held up a mangy looking, broken and dislocated wrist and said “I think I have busted my wrist”. The nurse took one look at it and said “you certainly have messed that up”.  Straight around the back “lets get that wedding ring off”, “here take these drugs”.  Service with a smile

As I was lying in the emergency ward I remembered something my gorgeous wife said to me “don’t be afraid to ask for pain relief if you are ever in hospital”.  I saw no reason to go against such wisdom on this occasion.  After being seen by one of the emergency doctors I was off for x-rays and a stop over in there pre-op ward.  I was given the official pre-op ward tour “this is the emergency button if you need anything press it”. At first the pain was bearable coming in throbs but it slowly built up and by mid afternoon it was starting to be painful.  “Where is that button”, (press) nothing, (press) nothing.  The button was busted “Noooooooo”.  I ended up asking the people across from me to press there button.  “Pain, more drugs, drugs, give me more” .  By the time they sent me back down to imaging for a CT scans it was excruciating. “Pain, more drugs, drugs, give me more drugs”, “We cannot give you any more”, “more drugs”.

They had given me all the drugs they could and if they gave me any more it was going to blow.  Well actually they could not give me any more because it might interfere with the drugs they where going to use to put me under.  The break and dislocation was starting to swell and put pressure on my nerves causing the pain.  The only thing that was going to help me know was surgery.  “Have I got some good drugs for you” is about the last thing I remember before the enthusiastic put me under.

I woke up that night still whacked out from the drugs.  With the next day and a half spent in a blur of half sleep, ops, drugs, half sleep until they started weaning me off the hard stuff.  In the end I spent 3 days in hospital so they could make sure I recovered the feelings in my fingers I had lost.  The ward was an interesting insight into society and during my stay in the day-op ward numerous people came through the ward.   There was a lady that had the top of her finger ripped off by a ring as a result off slipping in the shower and grabbing the tap.  The was a young guy that had broken his leg as a result of a bouncer throwing him down some stairs.  there was another young guy that needed facial surgery because some random had king hit him on Friday afternoon.  Another young guy need plastic surgery to his arm because he was mauled by a dog.  There was some older guy with broken ribs and hands as a result of a motorcycle race crash.

In the words of one of the ward assistances (the guys that push the patients around the hospital) “Hospitals are great in an emergency, just not for anything else” and he was right.  I arrived at Hospital on Friday morning and left on the Monday afternoon.