I was so sure nothing was broken.  I was wrong.

After my impressive “flight and crash” on Thursday, I spent the weekend taking Aleve and Tylenol and seemed to get a little better each day.  However, on Sunday my legs swelled up dramatically and I had to discontinue the Aleve.

Monday the pain was worse but fairly manageable.  My mistake probably was that I never should have gone to bed.  On Tuesday morning I awoke in such pain that I knew I had to go to the emergency room.

Hubby came home from work to take me.  Such fun trying to get my sorry ass into the car; I finally had to opt for sitting in the back behind the driver, and it took forever to manage that.

By the time we got to the ER, I was trembling with pain – on a scale of 1 to 10, it was definitely a 9-1/2.  Fortunately, we arrived mid-morning when they weren’t terribly busy, and I was taken for x-rays and then into an exam room right away.  The x-rays came back as “unremarkable” – no fractures.

Say what?  How could the pain be so severe if nothing was broken?  Now the concern was a ruptured spleen or damage to some other internal organ, so a CT scan, with contrast, was ordered.

Bear in mind that once lying down, I was unable to move without crying out.  The exam room cart was uncomfortable enough; I could only imagine how awful the CT table would be.

I was assured that I would not have to move my own self onto the CT table, that medical personnel would transfer me.  I knew they could, in fact, do that because  two nurses in the exam room had already managed to boost me up in bed via the sheets.  I was actually amazed – I’m not a small person, and those nurses simply grabbed the sheets and up the bed I went.  (Flying again, but at least this time it was a controlled landing.)

The transfer to the CT table was just as easy.  But the test got delayed when no one was able to find a vein for the IV.  Four people tried, and four people failed. Finally, they just gave up and did the test without contrast.

The good news is: no internal organs were injured or ruptured.

The bad new is: I have two broken ribs.

I was discharged from the ER with the “good” pain medication, but wouldn’t you know it, that made me vomit (not a good thing when you have broken ribs).  I’m currently waiting for my own physician to prescribe something that won’t make me throw up.

It will take up to 6 weeks to heal, and I’m told it’s best to sleep sitting up.  Hubby went out to  buy me a power lift recliner, which will be here tomorrow.  (What a good, loving guy – guess this makes up for all the times I’ve thought he was an uncaring jerk.)  Meanwhile, my executive desk chair is pretty comfortable when used with that $30 footstool I purchased a couple of years back.

Things can only get better, right?  As I’ve said many times before:  It’s hell getting old[er].

Hugs, all.

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Image by Cordelia’s Mom/TeddyRosalieStudio