Me misadventure at home

25 August 2004
83

R. Linda:

There I was on a Monday evening settling down to watch the Summer O's 2004. I got meself a can of Dr. Pepper, a bag of Wise crisps and some shelled peanuts. I flip me telly on and there is the big O coming on and all the athlete's faces being flashed before me eyes. I be all set for an evening of athletic competition where I don't have to compete; just watch someone else sweat for the gold, silver or bronze even, and in some cases that 15 minutes of fleeting fame.

I have me feet up on the coffee table (I know Nadia would be swatting at them if she could have seen me, but in this case, it was ME own coffee table), and I zipped open me bag of crisps when me foot hit the remote on the table and suddenly I be looking at public telly! I didn't want to miss a moment of the Olympics, so as I learned forward to fetch the remote, me bag of crisps goes tumbling over the edge of the couch and all over that expensive parquet floor of Nadia's.

I got me channel back and stood there in me socks, shorts, wife beater t-shirt, and cursed meself a good round for being so stupid. I placed the remote on the couch and went to sit down. I wanted to watch the gymnasts compete, but I knew if I left the mess on the floor, the oil from the crisps would darken the wood, and I be replacing the floor with money I didn't have. Off I took meself to the kitchen for the Dust Buster feeling very torn.

I moved the table back, got on me hands and knees and switched on the battery-charged gadget thinking I'd have the crisps cleaned up in a tick, and I'd be able to gather meself back on the couch and enjoy me evening of non-sweating athletics.

Was not to be R. Linda. As soon as I flicked that switch a great explosion of debris rose up into me face, up me nose and worse, into me eyes. The pain that hit me was bloody awful. Not only was I choking on the dust, there was something sharp in me eye and it hurt like a son of a gun. I flipped the thing off, got up and went into the water closet to gaze upon me soot-blackened face, and one eye that the white was all red.'

I tried to hold me eyelid so I could see but the pain was too much I could not do it, and blinking made it howlingly painful. I knew something was in there and I couldn't get it out, so without even wiping me dust coated face, I threw on me Boston Celtics sweatshirt, slipped into me flip flops (yes, with me socks on, a real fashion statement and the tongs between me socked toes was a real ouch), threw on me cargo Bermudas and covering me eye, I felt around the dark foyer for me house keys like a blind person (which I practically was), and then out the door I took them and meself.

I almost fell down the steep stairs because me flip-flop got caught in a stone that was raised up a wee bit and me feet went from under me. I grabbed onto the metal railing looking like a flag at half-staff, both feet out in the air, me hands holding on for dear life until I could plant my feet and gain me balance. I felt me way down all the way moaning. I thought me neighbours would either come out to see what had befallen me or lock up their doors thinking a ghost was roaming the premises. I have to assume the former because no one appeared.

I made it agonisingly to street level realising I didn't have a car to drive meself to clinic. How could I with me eye throbbing and the other one tearing so bad I could hardly see anyway. Maybe it was a good thing. I would have gone to one of me neighbours but that would mean dragging me sorry arse up another steep set of stone stairs, and I was in too much pain to want to waste the time, besides me flip flops with socks inhibited upward motion.

With shaky steps, I lurched the 14 long blocks to the clinic. I had a little trouble with the revolving door in that I had me hand over me sore eye and while pushing the door, the tears had completely wiped the vision in the other to underwater mode, so I went around a few times before an orderly got me out. I could still be going around if he didn't come across me.

There was no one in the waiting room and I was thankful for that and reckoned I'd be taken immediately. Wrong. They sent me to a cubicle and asked me for me insurance cards and such. Well R. Linda, I had left me wallet at home such was me haste to get help. They asked me if I could call someone to go fetch it for me. Like who? I had the keys, no one would be able to get in and worse, me windows on the lower levels all had these ornate bars on them. What to do.

"Well sir, we really need your insurance card in order to have a doctor see you."

I sat there with me hand over me eye, the other eye running tears that were dripping sooty droplets onto me Celtics sweatshirt. Being completely miserable, I said, "But this is serious."

"Sir, we don't know if it is until it is looked at, but I really do need that coverage card."

She was adamant she was. I offered to pay her from me own pocket and she refused me. I took me free hand to digging in me shorts front pocket to make a show of me desperation, and I slammed me money on the desk and said, "Here, this be all I have in the whole wide world. Now help me please!"

She looked down at the quarter and then at me, her face set. I realised it wasn't even one of those fancy new state quarters either.

I threw both hands over me face in weeping mode and when I heard nothing, I moved a finger from me good eye to see she was sitting there looking at me like I was a loony.

"For God's sake woman, this is a hospital is it not? I should be treated as an emergency victim right now by some doctor. I'll even take an intern!"

She got up with a "just a minute," and left me sitting there the pain getting worse with me emotional state because me brain was telling me I was going blind and about to lose me eyesight if help wasn't available soon. I sat down in a chair near the reception area and had one leg up around me waist almost as I tried to keep meself from getting up and jigging around doing the pain dance. A gentle hand on me shoulder made me put one hand down and out of me good eye, I looked up to see this wee nurse asking me to follow her.

Well damn me, I did jump up like I was about to go over the high hurdles and like a track star I ran after her. Into the ER rooms, we went her slipping a privacy curtain aside and gesturing me in. I sat meself down in a chair as she told me with a sweet smile, "Doctor will be in momentarily."

I wanted to lunge at her ankles and wrap me arms around them kissing her feet for showing mercy on a poor injured Irish lad. But I wasn't that far gone. I was sitting there happy, happy when another nurse came in with a stethoscope. She asked me to sit on the gurney so she could take me blood pressure and temp. I was not liking this. Because I was finally in the ER did not mean instant doctor service. I put out me arm and she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around it, pumped it to one degree of pain level and then slapped the cold stethoscope to the crook of me elbow listening to me blood screaming at her, "Loosen the bloody cuff before I explode the Irishman's brain!"

As she finished that task she asked me what happened and as I told her she wrote bits and pieces of what I said down. Finally, she stuck some strange instrument in me ear for a temp and then wrote that down. She left me without a word with me beginning to panic that this was the extent of me ER treatment.

Just as I was about to get meself out of the room to find a doctor, one stepped in whipping the privacy curtain closed behind her. She gave me greetings saying she was Dr. Murboubi. I be thinking Murboubi? What kind of a name is that? Obviously, she was foreign, an accent giving her away and lots of gold jewellery dripping off her smooth dark wrists. As she looked at me chart she said she needed to take a look at me injury so we could see "what we have."

She took me hand down from me injured eyeball and with an instrument that looked like a wee telescope, she leaned me back and looked through it at me eyeball as she held me eyelid flipped back. I be hoping she sees the offending shard but she comments there is a lot of blood in the eye and then, oh R. Linda, she does the unthinkable -- she flips a wee light on inside the instrument sending me almost off the gurney in the most intense pain I've ever felt in me short 30 some years.

With me moaning in agony and she telling me to hold still, she finally flicks it off and announces I have a wee bit of glass in there. Telling me to lie back, she goes to the curtain and calls a nurse in. With the nurse holding me head so I cannot move it, she picks up tweezers and I know instantly (because I can see all this), that yours truly is in for a good time, NOT.

"We could knock you out but I see the glass and if you lie perfectly still it will take me no time to pluck it out."

I will spare you the gory details and suffice it to say, the glass shard was removed, drops that hurt more than the removal of the glass were poured into me eye, and a patch was put over the offending eyeball. Dr. Murboubi gave me a prescription for drops for me eye, and painkillers for me peace of mind, and off I was sent back to the cubicle with the woman who was so unmoving I be treated without me insurance card.

"How do you want to pay for this?"

I stood there feeling more comfortable (even though me eye was throbbing), looking at her with probably an incredulous look on me dirty sooty face.

"We can bill you, but I need to see some form of identity."

I said nothing. I had no wallet on me, no nothing. I was an unidentified white male as far as the world was concerned and I was mentally resigning meself that I would be transported to the nick momentarily for failing to have proof I existed as somebody. And of course, because I failed to pay for services rendered.

She shoved the bill around so I could see it. I was wishing I was struck blind in both eyes because it totalled over $1400. I'd been there what two hours? When nervous my body does something that gets people angry, and I start laughing. It was by no means a laughing matter, but that's what happened.

I could see the receptionist was not amused. I asked to use her phone and glancing at the clock I rang me neighbour Henry. I had started looking at the Olympics at 8:30 p.m. and it was now 11:15 p.m. Henry was not thrilled, but he came to fetch me. He even got me keys went back and got me wallet. This I could not wait to present to the bitchy receptionist, but upon me return to the desk, I found she had gone home! I could have had free treatment like in the UK, but she was gone! Tired and emotionally drained fool I be, I asked the new person behind the desk where the other woman went because I was ready to show me insurance card for services rendered. She said, "I'll take that sir," and reaching up she took it and wrote out the information needed.

I sank down in the chair defeated. No gold, no silver, no bronze, not even 15 minutes of fleeting fame. I had come to the Hospital Olympics and I had a freaking eyepatch to show for it! With Henry helping me to his auto, we left for home. On the drive back I was thinking about how much I should sue Nadia for me vision impairment. How much time from work I could get off, and wondered if the Olympics were on during the day since I'd probably be home.

Well, as it turned out, I was called into work anyway. I had on me eye patch for sympathy and such, but that's not what I got.

Gabe
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