Pride Before A Fall

I was starting to really get the hang of the crutches, though it was a bit sore on the wrists, and the buttock muscles on my good leg weren't too keen on much crutch walking. I was pretty confident getting to the loo myself and I could stand on one leg to wash and clean my teeth without feeling too wobbly. I'd started yoga a few months before which I'm sure had helped with that.

But I was feeling a bit wiped out, so I ended up staying in bed for a lot of the day. I also had lots of emails and calls to make, to sort out work cover for me whilst I was off, especially as there was a big project coming up that we couldn't cancel.

I ended up still working from my bed by the evening, so I decided I ought to go downstairs. I visited the loo, then went back to the bed to sort out my clothing, and jumped just a bit too far forward as I got close to the bed. This quickly showed me a major drawback with under-arm crutches - if you end up with your foot in line with the feet of the crutches on the floor, you haven't got a stable support. As  they are under your arms, you need to lift your torso up and back fractionally to lift them forwards again, this then pushes you back slightly beyond stability and you go over backwards. You can't save yourself because it takes too long to drop the crutches. I realised this in the blink of an eye as I toppled backwards like a felled tree.

I was in the gap between the wall and the bed, but behind me was a wardrobe that was braced against a wall, so the back of my head hit it hard, and it didn't give at all. Then my backside hit the floor and my legs bounced and I ended up sitting in the narrow gap with blood pouring from a gash in the back of my head. There was some swearing.

J and the boys were all at home, so they piled into the bedroom to see what was going on, to find me bleeding on the floor. I was non-to-gently berated for going to the loo without a spotter, as I demanded something, anything, to stop the blood going everywhere. There was a lot of blood, which I knew tended to happen with head wounds, but because I was on blood-thinners, I was concerned that the bash on the head might be a problem internally too. We called for an ambulance whilst I had a little sobbing session because I was so frustrated at my stupidity.

The first-response paramedic got to us in less than 10 minutes and applied his skills and his wonderful sense of humour to the situation.

"You were right to call. A bash on the head when you have had blood thinners needed a bit more care.  Normally, I could have just stuck you back together with superglue, but this will need a quick trip to A & E. Also, we better keep checking your level of consciousness and whether your pupils are equal and reactive."

He took my blood-pressure, which was sky-high, mainly I think, because I was so, so angry with myself. Then the ambulance crew appeared - another pair of lovely, funny folk. There was much giggling and laughter as they decided what to do next. I was hoisted out of my awkward corner and taken downstairs on a special chair that made me feel surprisingly safe. In the ambulance, I got quite emotional again, but this time because we talked about the NHS and I told the guy how much I valued it. Even so, my blood pressure began to come down a little.

At hospital, I was whisked into a cubicle and assessed. I got another X-ray to check that the leg hadn't been damaged further (it hadn't), and they decided that they could close the wound, but that it was too large to glue, so I had 5 stitches - though they glued it as well, which was a bit of a puzzle. My hair was cleaned and combed to get the blood out, which was a relief. The nurse was on the ball though, "I'm going to get someone to assess that cough,"

It turned out that I had an infection in the bottom of one of my lungs, which is a risk after an operation where you are intubated and you have a sore throat (which I did). I was given a course of strong antibiotics to knock it on the head. The nurse also showed me my X-rays for the first time! The ones from Scotland had appeared on the system, so she was able to show me (and J who had arrived to keep me company) the before and after views. The tibia went from being clearly out of place to being nicely re-constructed, but the fibula was in 3 bits that sat alongside each other - not surprising then that I could feel movement.

"Is it really ok that the fibula is in bits that are all moving around?"

"It should be fine. Your body should eventually stick them back together as it heals."

I was re-assured, but still couldn't resign myself to feeling comfortable with the various crunching and clicking sensations.

"Your cast is too tight on your toes though, so I'd get that re-done before you hurt your foot, and am I right that you had under-arm crutches when you fell?

"Yes. That's what they gave me in Scotland."

"Really? I'm surprised. We stopped using them here a while ago, simply because they cause the kind of falls that you've just had. We use arm-brace crutches because they are safer. I'll get you a pair."

In the blink of an eye, a new set of crutches appeared. I was shown how to use them and saw that, because I could lean forward, I could re-balance far more easily than on the under-arm crutches. I also felt a bit less of a pratt, if my accident was at least partly due to the crutch design.

J drove me home, a wiser but more uncomfortable woman.


Lessons learned:

1. Under-arm crutches have a major drawback with stability if the user hops too far forwards.

2. Ask for arm-brace crutches if offered the other type.

3. If you have a cough after an operation where you were intubated, it's best to get it checked out.

4. UK ambulance folk could run an ace comedy club.