Thursday, December 23, 2004

pain & happy, part 1

I am quite lazy to type, but this is a long story, and you have to hear about it. So, I am writting it in a lame diary form.

Wednesday, 22/12/04

6pm : Phone rings

Joe : Oi. You wanna go play futsal?
Vincent : Can, when?
Joe : Later, 11 to 1?
Vincent : Tomorrow you mean?
Joe : No, no later. 11pm till 1am.
Vincent : What the fuck? You all crazy ar?
Joe : Just come la. Its cheaper. Me and Arasa come and pick you afterwards.

10pm : Arasa picks me up. I haven't seen the guy in a long time. He has long hair. In the car, he tells a stupid story about a guy who looks like a doughnut.

11pm : We walk on to the pitch and start kicking the ball around. Vincent realises, since its his first time playing there that their synthetic carpet grass is not like the usual astroturf grass that he plays on. He scuffs a few shots because of his kicking style.

11.20pm : Game starts.

11.22pm : Two minutes into the game, Vincent the great defender picks up a loose ball from the opposing team's striker, dribbles the ball out of the defence. The damn carpet grass has too much grip with my shoes. I fall, but instead of skidding as I would with ordinary grass, the soles of my foot stay stuck to the ground while the rest of me falls. My right ankle crumbles like a foal learning to walk.

11.23pm : I sit out the rest of the game. It sucks watching people have fun. My ankle swells to the size of the hemisphere of a tennis ball. I know I am fuck. Just praying that I didn't tear my ligaments.

11.30pm : I try to be smart. From watching tv, I know that putting ice can reduce swelling. Actually, numerous previous sports injuries had already taught me that. I figure that I'll go home and sleep on it. Unfortunately, I am in no fucking condition to drive, and even if I wanted to, I didn't have a car. I didn't want to be a bitch asking those guys to send me home when there wasn't anything wrong with me.

1am : I have been sitting still all the while. I stand up and realise that I am fucked. I can't fucking walk. I can't even stand. The guys eventually send me home.

1.30am : My mum is not too pleased that I want to go to bed. She demands that I go to the hospital to get an X-Ray. I say, I have had shit load of these injuries before. I know when its torn, and when its just pulled. Admittedly, its on of the worst I have had, but I know its not that bad.

2am : Reach the hospital. I learn that shows like ER and Chicago Hope are bullshit. The emergency room is dead in the middle of the night. The nurses are half asleep. The security guard is walking around like he is high on Ice. God knows where all the Medical Officers (MOs) are. My mum has to go grab a wheelchair from the nurses and wheel it to me in the car, cause the nurses are constipated and don't seem to be able to move very fast.

2.10am : Nurse takes my BP and my pulse. Apparently, its procedure. But can someone explain to me why they need my BP when clearly the problem is with my fucking foot?

2.15am : It takes them five fucking minutes to for them to wheel me into the examination room to go see the MO. MO expressed her extreme shock to hear that I was playing football at 11pm. Hey, what time I play football is not your problem! Have a look at my damn leg!

2.16am : MO finally tells me something I had known all night. "I don't think your bone is broken. I think you might have either torn or pulled your ligament. I am going to send you to take an X-Ray."

2.18am : Nurses give my mum a piece of paper and ask her to pay for my X-Ray before they actually perform the X-Ray on me. Apparently, money is more important than finding out why my ankle looks like a pufflefish. The cashier is busy sleeping, and my mum has to ring the bell 3 times before she wakes up. Outside, I am sitting on my wheelchair, and I am bored. I start wheeling myself all over the place, racing with imaginary people. I am a natural, and I master the wheelchair very fast. I could even do a fast U-turn.

2.19am : The two nurses seem amused by me. They don't sleep, but instead watch me amuse myself with the wheelchair. Joe calls me on my handphone to check up on how I am.

2.20am : My mum has come back from my cashier. Now that they have my money, they allow me to do the X-Ray. So, on of the nurses wheels me to the X-ray room. She should have tied the wheelchair to a snail and let the snail pull me, cause I doubt that the speed would have been very different.

2.21am : At the radiology department, the nurse spends another few minutes trying to find the technician to take the X-Ray. The techie is sleeping too. While waiting for the techie to come out, I think of Joe's phonecall. I remember he told me a story of how one of his friends had an accident and went to the hospital. There was nothing wrong with him when he went in, but he left the hospital with a broken arm. Apparently, the guy was like myself, bored and playing with the wheelchair. The dude tried to do a wheelie on the wheelchair, and it toppled over, giving him a broken arm.

2.30am : I am wheeled back to see the MO, and she has the results of the X-Ray. For the second time, she tells me shits that I already know. "Your bone is not broken." No shits, Sherlock! "You also don't need to put your foot in a cast. I'll get the nurse to wrap your foot in a bandage, and I'll give you an injection for the pain." I wonder whether they taught her simple initiative in med school. Before giving people injections, ask whether the guy needs it. I actually have a damn high tolerance of pain, and I don't need unnecessary injections. After all, I am going home to bed. I tell her to keep her syringe to herself.

2.40am : Off goes my mum to pay for my medicine and consultation fees. She has to wake the fucking cashier again. I get bored and decide to try doing a wheelie with the wheelchair. The hospital floor is too slippery and there is not enough grip between the wheel and the floor. It doesn't work out. Instead, an old woman who just walked in decides to have a chat with me. The security guard then sees me racing up and down in a wheelchair and asks me, "Are you a patient?" What the fuck did he think I was? I told you he was high on Ice.

2.45am : My mum comes back to the waiting lounge after collecting my medicine. We wait for the nurse to prepare the examination room so that she can bandage my foot.

2.50am : My mum gets impatient as they don't seem to be doing anything, but keep us waiting. She asks them how long till the room is ready. The damn nurse replies that she didn't know that my foot was supposed to be bandaged. I suppose she thought I was waiting there for fun. She grabs a bandage and wraps up my foot. I could have done it better.

2.55am : We finally get the fuck out of there. I get home, open the bandage, and wrap it back neater and better. I still couldn't walk. My mum brings out a pair of old crutches that she had in the storeroom. I sleep in the hall and mosquitoes eat me the whole night long.

*To be continued........the benefits of being handicapped*


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