Code Blue

Is it asking too much to get my face washed?

I was clocked in the cheek by my most adorable niece while taking a hiatus from work to play a quick round of golf. I did my best to provide proper golf guidance and encouragement but I was a step too close to her and she was a step too fast for my childless self and before I knew it I was stumbling backward, holding my face and thinking my goodness, this is what it feels like to be hit in the face with an iron. (For the record I think it was her 9 iron)

My brother was surprisingly on top of things and attentive. I, on the other hand, was completely out of sorts. My overpacked golf bag stocked with breath mints, dental floss, a pocket mirror, tampons, tissues and handkerchiefs, never mind the fall golf items, gloves, a hat and an extra pair of long socks, provided little recourse. I could not find a tissue even though a handful were staring up at me from an open pocket in my golf bag.

As I approached my brother he said it didn’t look bad, it was a small cut. I inquired if I was bleeding but then I felt a drip on my face. I placed a golf gloved hand to my face to catch the small pool that was st lf bag – I guess we are cut from the same cloth).

I heard him tell my niece and her friend we are wrapping this up. He grabbed his clubs, the girls’ clubs, and my clubs as we ascended the hill, through the fairway, a few foursomes, and back to the parking lot. I kept telling my brother he could get a refund. (Why was I so worried about getting a refund and not the blood running down my face). I wanted to drive but my brother, rightfully, would not allow it.

We arrived at Middlesex Hospital. The place people often refer to as the hospital you go to if living is not on your bingo card. We had no choice. My clothing, golf bag and face were covered in blood and it was the closest hospital. Not surprisingly I waited nearly an hour to be triaged. Once assessed I was placed in a room while my brother, niece and her friend waited in the ER waiting room. Only 2 people are allowed per room, I guess this is a new rule at Middlesex, and my brother could not leave the 8 year olds, they were a risk to the greater population.

After about an hour, and a number of staff confirming my name and insurance information, an attendant took a look at my face, asked me to follow her finger with my eyes and ordered a CT Scan.

I continued to communicate with my brother in the waiting room via text. A woman in the waiting room had apparently passed out and a Code Blue announcement ensued. That was all my niece and her friend needed. My brother whisked them away so as not to be a distraction. While on their way home and for many hours thereafter they reenacted the crisis shouting Code Blue, Code Blue. My hope for them is that they become medical professionals. Not to diminish the incident, the woman was fine after medical staff attended to her, however I do hope the 8 year olds go on to seek careers in the medical field. They seemed to revel in the moment.

In the meantime, the clock ticked, I waited. A knock at the door revealed a dear friend who happens to also be a physician. This doctor made some calls and lo and behold, my CT Scan was completed. The ER doctor confirmed a facial fracture. In less than an hour I was on my way home.

To this day I still believe I would be sitting in that ER room had my dear friend not stopped by and made a few calls. Our medical system is broken. No one should wait over 4 hours in an emergency room. It’s hard to comprehend especially when you take a step out of your room to assess the situation and you find staff scrolling on their phones. Certainly, they could be at work but I can see their phones and it’s Facebook and Instagram pages not hospital follow-ups. I returned home with a swollen face, black and blue and a minor cut that did not need stitches. There’s nothing further to do for a facial fracture but ice and rest. I’m still in one piece.

The hospital service was disappointing and it’s not the first time the Middlesex Hospital ER let me down. And to make matters worse, no one cleaned my face! Is it asking too much for a hospital staff member to clean a wound? Apparently so.

Sweet Dreams,

Ava

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