When the telephone ☎️ rings early in the morning, in our house anyway, it’s generally been sad news. So the call at 8am the morning after Ben, was answered in trepidation, but instead it was good news! 😀 I had an appointment with an ultrasound scan at 1030. I was elated and immediately guilty that I had been so disparaging of Ben.😢
In stark constrast to last Friday when my preparations included getting my nails done and wearing block heel boots. 👢This Friday, owing to the fall, I had to wear my clown 🤡shoes; (my husbands name for them) ultra comfortable, flat brogues in bright blue leather with pink leather lining. Suitably adorned with sensible shoes, 👞 loose clothing and crutches under arm my husband drove me to our local hospital. The journey, only 7 minutes long, was excruciatingly painful.😬
Again like Frankenstein🧟♂️ I stumbled into the department where the scan would take place while my husband parked the car. Rather nervously I gave my details to the receptionist fearing that someone had made a prank call👅 ( Ben?) and I had in fact no appointment at all. But after a few tentative clicks 💻 of the computer she directed me to have a seat.💺 Now, as you know, this is not an easy manoeuvre for me but my options were limited. I sat, clinging to my crutches and with the walk in taking its toll, my distress 🤦♀️ was palpable.
A nurse 👩🔧 wandered past and, wowed by my shoes, she stopped in her tracks to admire them only then noticing at this point I was wincing in pain. She swung into immediate Nurse Mode and got me onto a bed🛏 , thank you so much shoes! She then went off to try to hurry my appointment on but advised me I was being seen by a consultant👩🏻⚕️ so would have to wait. I didn’t mind this, it gave me some comfort, although I nervously admitted to my husband I was worried they would not find anything wrong. I had lost all confidence in my own assessment of my condition.😟
When the Consultant arrived he was brusque 😠 and I felt instantly guilty at being there. He slaggered gel across the front of my leg and asked me what happened. I regailed the story in summary. “When were you in A&E ?” “A week ago” I whimpered and fresh from the Ben experience felt again I was wasting his time. “And last night” I added . He asked me to flip over. ( like it was easy) and slaggered more gel on the sore bit of my leg. “ They have asked me to scan the wrong part” he seethed. He seemed astonished 😱 at the discolouration on the injury site and asked if I was in pain or unwell. “Both” I mumbled. He sighed and muttered under his breath and I caught “ it beggars belief”. “OK” he said “get dressed.” “Am I ok?” I enquired. “ You have the worst hamstring injury I have ever seen.” 🤐
I have to admit I broke down in tears 😭 with relief at this statement. He outlined the size of the tear; width 5cms, the depth 6cms and length 18 cms accompanied by a massive blood clot. He suggested I had lost a lot of blood 💉 and I should never have been sent home. He summoned my husband into the room. “Take her back to book her into A&E while I make this report personally”, he stated “this warrants it.” 🎉