A Fistful of Paperwork

So I left the ER with a handful of paperwork, two wrapped up ankles, an orthopedic shoe, and crutches. So woo, great hospital swag acquired! Medically I’m not supposed put any weight on my right foot and to put as little stress as possible on my left foot as it’s already weakened and could easily roll and sustain further damage. That was a wonderful pep talk from the staff. At least I wasn’t planning on running the Portland Marathon.

Now I have to prove to the hospital that I’m not making any money. I found this concept interesting because it’s pretty difficult to prove a negative. Well, the balance in one of my bank accounts was actually going to make that pretty easy. So I need to provide a copy of my taxes, 3 months of bank account statements, and 3 months of pay stubs. The pay stubs are by far the easiest since they don’t exist at all. I also have to send in a letter describing my financial situation. This letter is, I’m assuming, so that the hospital financial office has something to laugh at during their lunch hour.

The drive home was quick, but my legs informed me that there are enough pot holes on that short route to provide jobs for a large number of people. And then the argument started. My husband and I live in the basement. Me being a hurt sick animal I wanted to crawl, literally, down into my hole and hide. After the eventful morning, my husband was a worn out, tired man and he wanted to tuck me into the guest bedroom on the main floor.
“Please”
“No.”
“Please, I can totally scoot down the stairs on my butt.”
“No.”
“Please, all my stuff is down there.”
“No, we can bring your stuff to you.”
“Please, if I’m already downstairs no one has to bring anything to me.”
“Except food. If you’re downstairs we have to bring you food. And how are you going to get to your stuff, you’re not supposed to walk on your right foot and you’re supposed to stay off of your left as much as possible.”
“I’ll crawl.”
“You will not. I know you, and the minute that I’m not looking you’ll get up because it’s easier.”

So I lost. While I sat in the parked car while my husband prepped the house I got my friends on board with the downstairs idea. I had formed up my troops and was ready make a new assault. However between crawling up the steps and the ten minutes it took me to maneuver the bathroom my will to bump down a full flight of stairs evaporated. Unfortunately my friends were still on board with the badly injured friend downstairs program. I collapsed, defeated on the guest bed and convinced everyone that moving might be possible after the pain pill arrived from the pharmacy. But other than that I was going to remain sedentary until my legs fell off or the sun swallowed the earth, whichever came first.

If This Was An Actual Emergency You Would Know What To Do

So, I had made it to the couch and was trying to convince myself that with ice and never moving again that everything would be OK. The rest of the household was behaving normally and contributing to this delusion. My husband had thoughtfully picked up all of the breakfast I had scattered over the carpet, however one of our dogs was doing a very good impression of a Roomba and trying mightily to find any scrap he had left behind. Our other dog was still trying to find a place to lie down on me to “comfort me. Since I wasn’t struggling, he finally settled on my lower back.

Now a rapidly swelling ankle that I couldn't bear weight on that hurts like a balloon full of razor blades would usually send me right to the ER. However my life decisions, as well as my decisions regarding my day to day activities, have to be tempered by my lack of funds and insurance. So first we rang up Zoom Care a pay as you go facility. The pluses for Zoom Care are that you can make an appointment online or over the phone. The minuses are that for a possible bone break is that they have to send you out to a facility for x-rays, and then they send you home while they wait for someone to read them. Zoom Care then rings you up and lets you know if you have a broken bone and what you should do about it.
“I’m sorry, we can see the bone sticking out of your leg from your supposed compound fracture, but we’re going to have to send you home while we wait for that diagnosis to be confirmed.”
So Zoom Care seemed like less than an ideal solution to my issue as wandering around from place to place on possibly broken bones for an extended period of time was appearing less attractive with every passing swelling, bruising moment. We then tried calling Urgent Care units. There used to be Urgent Care units attached to hospitals so that more critical patients could be quickly shunted over to the ER and the Urgent Care could make use of the hospital could make use of the hospital facilities. Unfortunately for whatever reason, the Urgent Cares attached to hospitals have closed. Perhaps they weren’t making enough money as I’m sure they were a top choice for people like me without insurance. So that left my husband and me with about two hours wasted and after a dare to place my entire weight on my right ankle (I lost,) we were headed off to the nearest ER. As we were going out into public I did get it together enough to change out of my breakfast soaked pj’s into some slightly more socially acceptable sweatpants. I only needed a sports jersey or a bedazzled tank top to complete my camouflage for the ER waiting room.

As my mother-in-law actually does have one of everything stored away in her house a set of crutches was quickly found so I could hobble to the car. OK, I crawled, I crawled to the car. No dignity was involved whatsoever. Having already been covered in breakfast I thought that I couldn’t sink any lower. I was wrong. Random whiny baby noises kept coming out of my mouth despite my resolve not to say anything. These noises were interspersed with horrible nonsensical profanities. I'm actually surprised that a random nun from my childhood didn't show up and slap me in the face for some of the things that I said.

The first obstacle after finally getting in the car was simply finding the emergency room. Even though the ER was attached to a hospital its immune system was no defense against the plague of construction that had already infected the streets around it. We found ourselves following detour signs just to find an entrance. Well, my husband was following the signs; I was making pathetic little whining noises every time we went over a bump or a pothole. But the signs eventually led us to an entrance where they had a large covered ramp of a detour, but wondrously they also had wheelchairs and valet parking. I got settled in a wheelchair and my husband started wheeling me towards what was undoubtedly going to be a very large expense.