Ah, the joys of life! One moment you’re living your best life, and the next, you’re on a first-name basis with EMTs, doctors, and the lovely folks at the hospital. Get ready as I take you through the roller coaster of events that turned my regular Saturday into a medical odyssey.
Picture this: I’m sprawled out on the ground, my ankle in a position that would make a seasoned yoga instructor cringe. Enter the EMTs, my knights in cotton scrubs! They stabilized my ankle as well as the circumstances would allow and readied me for transport. As a bonus, they offered me some fentanyl to ease the pain when the shock wore off. Talk about a VIP treatment!
In the back of the ambulance with me was Ethan. He kept me entertained during the ride, which, let’s be honest, was a much-needed distraction from the fact that my foot was doing its best impression of a pretzel. Meanwhile, John drove us to St. Raphael’s Hospital like a pro, navigating through traffic with the finesse of a race car driver.
Upon arrival, Ethan checked me in and waited with me until I was in the queue for a doctor. It was in Hallway A6—my temporary home for the next little while—that I received an unexpected call that would change our lives in a more permanent way. The rescue had approved us to adopt a puppy named Albus. Talk about timing! I explained my predicament and made arrangements to follow up on Tuesday after Albus had his first shots. I mean, who wouldn’t want to adopt a puppy after a morning of chaos?
At this point, I was still blissfully unaware of the severity of my injury. I thought they’d pop my ankle back in place and send me home with a fashionable cast. Spoiler alert: I had never broken a bone before, so I was completely unprepared for what lay ahead.
Once I finally saw the doctor, I was whisked away for an X-ray. The results were in, and let’s just say I wasn’t expecting a two-for-one deal: my right ankle was dislocated and fractured, and surprise, surprise—I’d also fractured the left ankle. Who knew I was capable of such impressive feats of clumsiness?
The doctor calmly informed me that surgery was necessary and would take place at Yale Hospital over the weekend. They mentioned I’d probably just need a boot for the left ankle while it healed, and the right would be surgically put back together. Honestly, I was just grateful that I’d have one foot to hop around on.
Now, here’s where things get interesting. We discussed how to put me under for the procedure to temporarily set my right ankle back in position, and the decision was made to use ketamine. Ah, ketamine—the gateway to a psychedelic adventure.
It’s hard to describe what a ketamine trip is like, but for me, it was akin to stepping into a cartoon world, reminiscent of Jackie Paper’s experience from that old 1970s classic, Puff the Magic Dragon. Everything was brighter, more vivid, and frankly, amazing! Just when I was enjoying the ride, my drugged brain piped up with, “Wait, what is happening? Am I dead?”
Suddenly, I was on a mission to bring everything back into focus. I watched in awe as the medical team morphed from animated characters back into flesh-and-blood humans. It was a long, strange trip that ended with me yelling “Woohoo!” and asking if I could put my left foot down because it was uncomfortable. To be fair, when I came to, my left foot was nestled in someone’s chest while they held it up to finish bandaging.
Once the ketamine wore off, they called an ambulance to transfer me to Yale Hospital. I arrived at Yale around 7pm, a solid ten hours after my unfortunate trip and fall at 9am. Talk about a day packed with excitement!
So, there you have it—a lighthearted account of my unexpected adventure in the world of medical mishaps. As I recover, I can’t help but look forward to introducing Albus to my rock star dog, Finnegan. Finnegan could use a playmate, and having a puppy in the mix will surely keep me on my toes—once I’m back on my feet, that is! Until then, I’ll be the one rocking a fashionable boot on both ankles, with a story that’s sure to entertain for years to come.
Ketamine! That was what it was, lol. So, after Peter broke both of his knees, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen and they needed to turn his one leg around so it faced the correct direction before they could put a fixator on. They said that he would feel pain, but immediately forget it and assign it to something else. I could hear his screaming from the hallway, but when I talked to him after, he said that he watched the cat nuns from Doctor Who put his leg back together using legos and he felt fine, lol. To this day, he still swears that’s what he saw.
That’s hilarious! And even more relatable after my own weird ketamine trip. Dave was in the room for the ketamine experience, and from what I’ve been told I was fine throughout and didn’t say anything until the Woohoo at the end.