From the O.R. to the E.R.

Incident Report: Friday, June 23, 2006 Some of you know that my mom has had surgery recently. On Friday her surgical procedure took a turn for the worse and she ended up needing an emergency operation to correct a problem. She is recovering (again) in the hospital and will hopefully come home this week. For those of you inclined to prayer, please pray for her physical, and emotional, health. On a lighter, and gorier, note (warning: the following may not be suitable for squeamish readers), Friday night was full of surprises. I returned home late Friday night after seeing my mom before she was rushed into surgery. I thought I had made all the necessary phone calls and was going to bed around midnight. Just as I was about to go to sleep, a kind friend called to check on my mom and me (thanks, V!). We talked for a few minutes and I went to bed and fell into a deep sleep. For those who know me pretty well, I don’t need to explain this next part, but for those who are unaware, I do not wake up from a sleeping state easily or well. Even when I was a little kid my family learned to approach me when asleep at their own peril. I have been known to lash out, taking a swing or two at the would-be waker-upper. I sometimes scream incoherently, and when awakened by noises and such I will jolt upright and spring to my feet in one swift move, all the while not being fully conscious. (That last part has been made all the more difficult with the aforementioned mosquito netting!) When woken up in this manner, I am not fully aware of whom I am, where I am, or what I am doing. There are several incidents that have become folklore in the family due to my sleeping stupor antics. My parents took to standing far away in the doorway, choosing to whisper or gently chide me into consciousness. In high school, my dad would turn on the overhead light and sing “Good Morning Merry Sunshine” to get me out of bed, but that is another story. Back to Friday night: I was slumbering solidly when my cell phone rang. I sprang up, fought my way through the mosquito netting and ran to the other side of the bedroom for the phone (the only free outlet to charge the phone is on the opposite side of the bed from where the mosquito netting opens). On my way, I slammed my foot into a milk crate full of books in the middle of the floor. Hobbling and smarting from the intense pain, I answered the phone and gave my typical response to late-night phone calls with “Huh?” “What?” It was my sister. She asked what was wrong and I said something about hurting my foot. I was waiting for what I thought was the pain from a stubbed toe to subside, but it didn’t. When I looked down, there was blood everywhere. I took the phone with my sister still asking questions on the other end and hobbled my way to the bathroom. By this time I am awake and starting to recognize the magnitude of the situation. I set the phone on the counter and sat down with my foot bleeding into the bathtub. I couldn’t find the source of what must have been a sizable wound. I thought for a moment that I had ripped off my toenail or some such thing. Meanwhile, my sister is still peppering me with questions of what is going on, do I need to go the hospital, do I want her to come over, etc. To which I am shouting, “I don’t know”, “There’s a lot of blood”, “I can’t open the door to let you in, because I will bleed all over the carpet”. (It’s funny that in the middle of a crisis I’m still thinking about how much trouble I will be in if my mom sees what I’ve done to the rugs!) I finally figured out that the bleeding was coming from a gash on the bottom of my second to last toe and applied pressure. I tried to get my foot over my heart so I wouldn’t pass out, but that required a level of contortionism I could not achieve. At some point, my sister hangs up and she and her husband, Jim, come over and manage to help me get dressed and take me to the emergency room. On the way out, I look back and imagine that if someone came to the house while we were gone to the hospital they might think they had witnessed the aftermath of a crime scene, as a bloody trail led from the bedroom to the bathroom. We got the emergency room and one tetanus shot, two shots in between my toes, a liter of saline solution, and a few steri-strips later I was released around 4:30am.