ON Wednesday, February 20, 2008 at 1:15 PM, I slipped on some wet tiles, fell hard on my knee and broke my patella in half. The pain was bad but not as bad as when I fell out of the motorhome and pulled everything in my right ankle and wrenched my left knee a year ago. The tiles were placed in a concrete sidewalk in front of a strip mall near where we are staying in Oceanside, CA. It was raining and they were like ice from the water! Imagine some moron putting slick tiles in a public place? I want to shake and slap that person!

Anyway, I somehow managed to pull myself up with Mel’s help and hobble to the car. At that time the knee worked fairly well still and the pain was minimal. We had been out to pick up some frozen dog food so Mel suggested I grab a bag and place it on my knee. I did. We were about 5 minutes from home and about half way home the pain began to set in and by the time we got back to the Global Warmer, I was in agony and the knee no longer worked. I tried to get out of our Extortion but the knee wouldn’t bend or work at all and the pain was pretty dang bad but not the worst I have ever had from a fall.

Mel helped me but it was very difficult. We were on our way to the movies with my friend Stacy but I called her and said I didn’t think I could make it. I iced it more and then thought perhaps I could go to the movies after all. Then I tried to stand. It wasn’t going to happen. Movie cancelled L, We went to an Urgent Care facility. We waited 4 ½ hours!!!! I HURT! Finally they took me into a room for examination. I had iced the hell out of it and had taken Advil for the swelling (now I know that Advil or Ibuprofen is not indicated for what I had). They said it didn’t look bad but wanted to take x-rays. The person who did my x-ray must have been a newbie at it because he was HORRIBLE! He kept repositioning me (OWIE! OWIE! OWIE!). After two x-rays, he went to develop them. Then another person came in and he redid them, explaining to the first idiot what he had done wrong and how he shouldn’t have kept moving me.

Then I went back in a room. Three guys came in, including the first x-ray dude, the PA who had examined me as well as a real doctor. The doctor said, “Most people come in here screaming in pain and think they have a broken bone but don’t. You come in here with little swelling, no screaming or complaining and you did it up right!” He went on to say,” If you are going to break your knee cap, this is the way to do it. You sure did it right!” I started to cry because all I could think of was NO agility and now I would miss the Susan Garrett seminar where so many of my great Poodle friends would be for the next 2 weeks! I am NOT a crier. I am pretty even with my emotions but losing the ability to do what I love more than anything was unbearable. No more training, no more lessons with Stacy (the main reason we come to CA!), no seminars, etc.

The doctor put me in an immobilizing brace and sent me with some pain pills he assured me wouldn’t make me sick or anything else. HUH! I had explained to him how I react to most good pain meds. I get sea sick as hell. Well, not only did I get sea sick from those things, I had hallucinations! That was not fun (I never did those things in the 60s because I like having full control over myself). The doctor also said he suspected I would need surgery to put it back together and gave me the name of a good orthopedic surgeon who was very close.

We went the next day to see the ortho guy. He said I needed surgery but I could wait a week to see if it didn’t separate any more. I, like a freaking IDIOT, wanted to wait a week! I have a good friend who is married to a retired ortho surgeon and he also told me I should have surgery. I didn’t listen and waited the week.

At the next x-ray, the bone, which was broken exactly in half across my knee cap, had separated more and dropped out of position. He said I need surgery. I cried again. The surgeon, being the warm hearted person he is, told me he didn’t know why I was getting emotional and that is was no big deal! I looked at him and said through my tears, “SURE! No big deal for YOU! You look at me and see a fat old woman! I am NOT just a fat old woman! I compete nearly every weekend in dog agility! I wear a pedometer and go 3-6 miles a day during the week and 6-9 ever day during a trial! I run 2 dogs and I train and condition them and more. I live for agility and this will put me out for months according to you and you tell me it is NO BIG DEAL!!!” He took a step back. He is very confident (arrogant is perhaps a better description) and I don’t think he is used to fat old ladies talking to him that way. He softened a bit and explained what he was going to do to my knee.

This was Thursday and we had a 4 day trial that weekend. We scheduled surgery for Tuesday, drove back to the GW, packed up and left for the trial. By now, my pain was lessening and I was living on Ibuprofen. Mel had to run 5 dogs a day! My dogs don’t run well for other people but Mel did a fine job with Isabella, even getting a QQ. Charisse is a LOT more difficult to run but he actually managed a Q on the last day and nearly got a QQ with her! He would have had MACH 3 with Josephine but she knocked 1 bar every day for the first three days but was otherwise clean. It is frustrating. MeMe is not QQing right now and in a bit of a slump so I think Winnie & Heidi’s youngest Sp with a MACH record is looking safe. MeMe was QQing every weekend but hasn’t in months now.

My friend Stacy ran Charisse one day and did a nice job keeping her engaged but Charisse dances to a different beat so no Qs.

Crushie made her debut and had three fabulous runs. The first day clean and won but knocked a bar the second day and two the third day or would have had three straight clean runs and been up in open now. She was brilliant, fast and focused. She hit some very difficult weave entries at top speed. She never missed one! I was very proud of Mel and Crushie. She looked like a pro in every single run! There was nothing novice about her!

So, trial over and now my pain a 2 on a 1-10 scale, we packed up and drove back down to Oceanside. My surgery was planned for the next day and I was NOT looking forward to it one single bit! Here I was, finally not hurting much and they were going to break it all over again and screw and wire it back together! OUCH OUCH OUCH!!!! OWIE!

Mel drove me in for the surgery and all went smoothly. I talked with the anesthesiologist and explained how allergic I am to most pain meds and how sick I get after anesthetic. He assured me he would put something in it to alleviate my sickness. He did and it was SO SO SO much better than the last time I had surgery, 10 years ago, to be spayed. He said that because I reacted so violently to most pain meds, he would give me a leg block to numb my entire leg but I would have to stay in the hospital for a few days. I said that would be fine because I was going home to a motorhome, 6 dogs and not so nurturing husband. They all thought I kept saying I lived in a MOBILE home and couldn’t understand why I was worried. Then I got is across to them that it actually drove down the road and had very high steps!

While in the pre op room, they brought in a woman who was also having a minor surgery. They put her next to me and told her to remove all of her clothing, including her underwear and put on the hospital gown. She freaked out and said she would NOT remove her panties! She kept going on and on and on about how she wouldn’t have surgery if she had to remove her underwear! Finally, the nurse with me peeked through the curtain and told her to just roll them down and not to worry about it. The woman freaked again and asked “Who the hell are you???” She replied that she was an OR nurse and would make sure everything was above board during her surgery. The woman then quieted down and said, “I have issues. I have issues” I looked at the nurse and we rolled our eyes. Oh the compassion just oozed from the nurse and me LOL.

When I was wheeled out I looked over at the blond with the panty issues and she looked back at me and said, “WELL! I HAVE ISSUES YOU KNOW!” I turned away so she couldn’t see me smile and off I went to the OR. At least I went in with a smile on my face. Just so you don’t think I am an insensitive clod, I did feel sorry for the woman with the issues but I still found it funny. SORRY, that’s just me and my sick sense of humor!

So my last words to them in the OR were, ” PLEASE DON’T CROAK ME! I know I look like just a fat old lady but I am a skilled athlete!” I laughed. They laughed and I went on to tell them I compete in agility and how it is my life (I have been accused by a few people that I don’t have a life outside agility LOL. They are correct but I led a very full life before agility so I am quite happy that now agility IS my life).

I woke up in the post op room. It was like a cattle yard. There were tons of us all lined up around the room. The first thing I noticed was how MUCH I FREAKING HURT!!!! What happened to my nerve block??? No nerve block! HELP!!!! The next thing I noticed was some woman screaming at the top of her lungs about how much pain she was in. The screaming went on and on and on non stop for 45 minutes! She screamed that somebody had to help her and that nobody on earth could hurt as much as she did and how if she had known how much it would hurt, she never would have done the surgery. I looked at my attending nurse and said, “That is a blond woman right?” The nurse said, “YES! How did you know that? Oh, you were in Pre Op with her right?” I said yes and we laughed. I hurt so much and the last thing I wanted to listen to was how much she hurt.

I asked why I hadn’t had a nerve block but nobody knew. They finally put some wonder drug in my IV that didn’t make me sick AND it relieved my pain! The surgeon came in to talk to me but I was so out of it I couldn’t remember what the hell he said. They had told Mel to sit in the waiting room and the surgeon would come talk to him after my surgery. Mel waited 3 freaking hours and the surgeon never showed! ARROGANT ASSHOLE!

So, back in the room, I rested comfortably. The roommate I had was going home and she slept peacefully in the next bed. Her snoring was quite loud so I was glad when she left. I love being alone and having a quiet, dark room in which to recuperate. I asked for Mel and somebody went to find him for me. He visited for a while, said he was glad I hadn’t croaked and then left to take care of the dogs.

I slept.

I slept so deeply, several times nurses came running into my room and woke me. They said my breathing had stopped briefly and my heart rate was dropping into the 30s! I told them in a groggy voice not to worry. I was a skilled athlete and under all my blubber was the body of a goddess and I naturally had a low heart rate and low blood pressure. They laughed as they fussed over me and the things into which I was hooked. I guess that was why I had heard my dead sister Pam calling my name a few times that night! I also had a conversation with a very old friend who recently died of a brain tumor. She said she was doing great! I asked her if she was cured but she said no, she had died but it was OK and things were great for her now. It was an interesting experience to say the least. Drugs do strange things to me.

Then my peace and quiet was shattered! Around 9 PM they wheeled in a woman from the ER. She had a thick Danish accent and complained quite loudly about EVERY FREAKING THING! She complained at how they were wheeling her in and how they moved her to the bed and how her back hurt more than anything and how she wanted her coffee and how she needed a nurse and how she wanted the “GOOD” drugs for her pain and how she needed her inhaler and “NO THAT THAT INHALER! THE OTHER ONE!” The complaining was literally nonstop and LOUD LOUD LOUD! She immediately turned on the TV (it was 9PM and I was trying to sleep!) She never once asked me if I minded and she turned it up loud! I asked for ear plugs. They didn’t help.

Oh how I longed for the snoring roommate again!

My new roommate would wait until she thought I was stirring from my sleep and start moaning and groaning in pain. She would start complaining loudly about the nurses, about her pain meds and about anything else that popped into her mind. I wanted to KILL HER! If I could have gotten out of bed by myself, I would have taken one of my pillows and placed it over her complaining head and held it there until she was quiet. Perhaps my drugs were thinking for me?

I asked her is she had to have that TV ON ALL NIGHT. Here was her reply to me (at the top of her lungs), “YES I DO!!” then she would kick her legs as she talked because she was so angry with me for asking her. “I NEED MY TV ON! I GET CLAUSTROPHOBIA WITHOUT MY TV!!!! I NEED MY TV!!!” All this in a strong Danish accent.

I felt sorry for her. I thought she was in her late 80s but she was only 66 going on 90! Her hair was thinning more than Mel’s and she suffered from emphysema and a compression fracture of her back. She had a right to complain I guess, it was just the way she did it that drove me insane! They wanted to do an MRI on her back but she started screaming that she had claustrophobia and refused to get in that box! That went on for hours and hours, long after the doctors and nurses had left the room. They settled on a bone scan and I explained to her what that was and reassured her that there were no boxes involved. They took her away and I could hear her screaming complaints all the way down the hall. I took a deep breath, closed the curtains, turned OFF the dang TV and lights and closed my eyes for what turned out to be only a few hours rest.

Soon, I heard her coming back down the hall. She was still yelling but now screaming about what a miracle cure she had had. They injected cement into her compression fracture and, evidently, that had totally alleviated her pain! OH THANK GOD I thought! Peace and quiet weren’t far away!

WRONG!

Now she found other things about which to yell complaints. The TV went back on. She complained that she didn’t sleep all night long. I asked her what all that snoring was I heard coming from her bed. Then I said perhaps she would sleep better if she turned off the lights and the TV at night! That sent her over the top! She kicked her legs (which she had nonstop complained were numb and didn’t work)and SCREAMED AT ME, “THE REASON I CAN’T SLEEP IS THAT YOU WILL NOT LET ME TURN UP THE TV ALL NIGHT!!!!!”

Dogs or no dogs and motorhome, I needed to get out of there!

I pretended to be asleep and ignored her most of the time. She kept hinting that I get up and do things for her but I ignored her pleas.  Finally, her behaviors extinguished as long as she thought I was sleeping. As soon as I moved, WHAM! It all started again! She was the most egocentric person I have ever met!

So dinner time rolls around and she is on a liquid diet due to the procedure she had. They tell her she can’t eat until she has a bowel movement. There I am eating my dinner, minding my own business when it happens.

“I HAVE TO GO POOP!!!” she screams over at me. What the F#@&? What did she expect ME to do about it? I suggested she call the nurse. She did. She called again and again and again saying nonstop, “I HAVE TO GO POOOP!”

Finally, the nurse arrives and asks what she wants. I said, “SHE HAS TO GO POOP! Couldn’t you hear her out there? I think they could hear her in Florida!” Then I rolled my eyes at the nurse. My patience is not running thin, it is GONE! She complained that she wanted narcotics for her pain, then she complained at how she felt because of the narcotics but admitted she had no pain. When the narcotics kicked in, I had to listen to the following nonstop for hours:

“OH BABY JESUS! DEAR BABY JESUS! I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM! PLEASE HELP ME BABY JESUS! Help me to know where I am! I can’t go on! I can’t do this any more!!!” She then looked over at me and asked me if I knew where she was. I wanted so much to say, “RIGHT NEXT TO ME SO SHUT THE F#@& UP!” But I didn’t. I smiled and told her she would be fine and that it was only the narcotics.

So back to the pooping episode. The nurse said she would take her to the bathroom but my lovely roommate screamed that she didn’t want to go that far, even though she had gotten up not so long before on her own (after asking ME to do it for her!) to go get the chocolate chip cookies her son had brought her and had had NO problem at all! So, there I was, eating my dinner, minding my own business and she tells the nurses that she wants the commode and she wants it right next to her bed on the left side (next to MY bed!). So, the nurses get it for her and there she sits while I eat. THBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBP!!!!

THBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBP!!!!

THBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBP!!!!

It sounded like a thunder storm next to me! Did I mention I was eating my dinner at the time? Oh, and just in case I couldn’t hear the mortar fire going into the commode, the smell was a lovely addition to my dinner!

The next morning, she called for a nurse but the nurse was late coming, so she just pooped in her bed! I could hear the mortar fire and her sounds of relief as she let go in her bed. She was perfectly capable of getting herself up and to the bathroom. I had seen her do it easily to get those cookies! When questioned by the nurse why she hadn’t gone to the bathroom herself, she said she didn’t want to unhook her oxygen, “I HAVE EMPHYSEMA YOU KNOW AND I CAN’T BREATHE!” Evidently, the emphysema kicks off for chocolate chip cookies!

The second night they took away my IV drugs. They said they needed to find something that would help me get around at home but that wouldn’t make me sick or give me hives. They tried Percocet, nothing. It didn’t touch the pain. They tried some other things that didn’t help. Finally they set me up with a “pain doctor” and he prescribed several things for me. He gave me a muscle relaxer because I was having painful spasms above the knee, a med that targeted my nerves and a drug called Diloted. He also said I could have Tylenol but NO Ibuprofen because that would interfere with the healing process. So, we started with the nerve med, followed by the Diloted and muscle relaxer. This was the second night and my knee was beginning to swell a LOT! I begged for more ice than the silly little bag they gave me but they said I couldn’t have more ice because the doctor hadn’t ordered it! I asked why they didn’t ask him for more but I was informed that he and most of the other docs had left for some fancy shmancy conference in San Francisco! No wonder he rushed away without talking to Mel!

SO now my knee was swelling around my brace! The pain was now worse than ever. ON a 1-10 scale it was a 12. Childbirth paled in comparison! All the while I was listening to my roommate complain about everything from her coffee to her legs to the nurses to the Primary results she was watching on MSNBC all night to you name it! She flipped channels most of the night (perhaps from all the freaking coffee she drank!). I asked her repeatedly to turn down the TV but as soon as she thought I was asleep, up it went and I would wake up.

I got up to drag my sorry ass to the bathroom on crutches (they were making me walk so I would be ready to go home the next day). I was suffering in silence but the tears were now streaming down my face because the pain was so so bad. ON my way back to bed, she said, “Get me that pillow over on your chair.” Not, “May I please use one of your pillows?” Or “Do you think you are able to get me an extra pillow?” How about the fact that if I could I would beat your sorry ass to death with my crutch but I would have fallen and then no nurse would find me because they were avoiding you as much as possible. I hobbled over to the pillows, tears silently streaming down my face, picked up the pillow and FLUNG it over to her. I never said a word. I just crawled back to bed and continued felling sorry for myself in silence while she moaned and groaned about everything under the sun.

When the nurse came in to take my blood pressure and such, I asked her how many ice bags she could give me. She said she could probably get away with three. I begged her to bring them to me! I knew that all I needed was more ice to reduce the painful swelling. She brought me the ice and it did the trick! By morning, the pain was reduced to a 7! Hallelujah!!! All that fancy medicine and it was simple ice that helped me more than anything else.

On Thursday, I was sent home. So was my lovely roommate. She and her 45 year old single son live together. How nice for him. How nice for her.

She never once asked me how I was doing or what I wanted on the TV or anything else. I was SO glad to be rid of her complaining and obnoxious selfish behavior.

HOME AGAIN! OWIE OWIE OWIE!!!! Getting into the GW was a real chore. Mel locked out the dogs so I didn’t have to deal with that. They wiggled over the x-pens and I patted all of them. Isabella cried for me. I missed them. I think Mel enjoyed his time alone with no nagging.

All went well until last night when Isabella came in and did what she always does to me when I am in bed; she jumped on my bad knee first with her front feet, then with her back feet! I cried for 45 minutes and felt like my roommate! It was as if I were in that movie Misery and she hit my knee with a sledge hammer. I could not have clicker trained Isabella to be that precise if you put a gun to my head!

OWIE OWIE OWIE!!!! POOR MEL!

Things settled down, Mel gave me drugs and ice and off to sleep I went.

Mel does the best he can but he is not much of a house keeper or nurturer. Dishes and laundry are done but the rest will have to wait until I am well enough to do it I fear. I hate a messy home but I need to pick my nagging sessions carefully or I may end up like the poor guy in Misery, lying in my bed with Mel looking over me with a sledge hammer in hand.

Today is the first day I have been able to get up and go to the computer.

They tell me it will be months and months until I can train my dogs and run them again L. That makes me very sad L. I miss it so much. My friends have been calling me and visiting me from the Susan Garrett seminars we were supposed to attend. I am so jealous. Have I mentioned that agility is my life? I am going to try to go on Wednesday next week to watch. I hope I will be well enough by then. Mel may run a couple of dogs on Thursday and Friday.

 Happy days are on their way. I can feel itJ.

Helen King