Here's a breaking news story for all you insiders! You heard it here first.
THE PONY BROKE HIS ANKLE AT WORK!
It happened Thursday, the day after Farmer H left on his trip out west. Just the basics here. The full story, with gory pictures, will be on my not-so-secret blog in the coming days.
The Pony is not in too much physical pain. Just three ibuprofen a day (taken all at once!) takes the edge off. He is camped out in Farmer H's recliner with two couch pillows under the ankle. He went to urgent care for treatment. X-ray shows a fracture in his fibula. Right now he's in a wrapped brace thingy, awaiting an appointment with an orthopedic specialist. The appointment has to be handled through this specific urgent care facility, because this is a Workers' Compensation injury. 18 pages of paperwork to start with.
The Pony talked to the other CCA who just broke her ankle. She had two fractures in hers, and is now in a hard cast. Out six weeks. This is the likely path The Pony must take. I think his official letter said only light duty for six weeks or until released by the orthopedic physician. The Pony says there is no light duty work at the office for him. I though he might be able to case the mail, but he says that requires standing and lifting.
Anyhoo... enough about The Pony! The real suffering is currently endured by MRS. HM!!!
Here was my Friday...
After a not-so-refreshing three hours of sleep, I arose at the Not-Heavenish hour of 10:30 a.m. to get ready and take The Pony to town for crutches and antibiotic prescription ointment. He has three big scrapes to complement his poofy ankle. First I had to help him wash his long flowing matted curly locks in the kitchen sink. No bath or shower with the ankle wrap. Besides, he couldn't stand on one leg long enough to shower.
We got the prescription, but the pharmacy only had crutches for 5' 10" and taller. We went a few blocks to Farmer H's pharmacy, but they had none. Then our third stop yielded a spiffy lightweight metal set, but the place couldn't take insurance on them. We got a cash discount, though.
From there we proceeded over to Bill-Paying Town to the urgent care. The Pony's supervisor had not been able to fax the forms they needed at 6:30 on Thursday night. So she emailed him the document, which I had to print. On it, they had typed RIGHT ANKLE INJURY, but it was the left ankle. She said it shouldn't matter, so we didn't have to swing by for her to initial the forms first.
Urgent care could not fill out the paperwork. Said the orthopedic specialist would have to do that. So it was an entirely wasted 20-mile trip. Then we had to swing by the post office anyway, to turn in the doctor's excuse. The Pony said he couldn't make it up the loading dock ramp to get inside, since it was too steep for his brand new crutch-walking. Also, all the LLVs were back by this time, and I couldn't park him close enough to hand the paper to somebody else to take inside. So I parked out front, and took it to the counter, where an amiable clerk with a scraggly beard expressed concern.
"Oh, no! I was here yesterday when it happened. That's too bad."
From there we went to Country Mart for limes, because The Pony said he might like to have a rum drink during the course of his incapacitation. He won't have them on work nights, which are were six days a week. Then I picked up Domino's Pizza, which is just next door. And my magical elixir, and a bottle of water for The Pony, along with a new Kit Kat candy bar that is pink, with cereal like Fruity Pebbles in it. We were both famished, it now being 3:30 p.m.
Oh, and I will have to deal with the trash dumpster myself now, and hike around back to deal with POOLIO. I've been carrying water and ice and possible snacks to The Pony. Shadowing him down and up the steps to the garage. Washing his elbow abrasion and putting on the ointment and bandages.
I'm not used to having someone need so much direct care. Not even lazybones ungrateful Farmer H. I was in tears Friday morning, trying to get everything together before we left, having to make two trips to and from the basement down those 13 rail-less steps.
"It's not you, Pony. I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I'd do anything for you, but you have to admit, this is way more of a workout already than what I'm used to. It's like I'm training for the Olympics. But I swear, I WILL win the gold medal in the MOM-lympics!"
Yeah. I'm kind of exhausted.
My SO fractured his tibia two months ago, and is still using a walker... His injury resulted in his decision to definitely retire on Sept. 1.
ReplyDeleteOh happy day!
You're almost as busy as when they were babies and toddlers needing 24/7 care.
ReplyDeleteI want to know more about the ankle breaking. Did they both break ankles in the same delivery area? Is there a problem with the road or path? Potholes or ruts? Future delivers need to be made aware.
If it was winter The Pony could wear ankle support boots, but they'd be too hot for summer.
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteOh, how you must be counting the days!!! The tibia is more of a workhorse than The Pony's fragile fibula. I hope your PITA--I mean SO--is walker-free by Sept 1. So you can begrudge him the constant requests he might make of you, and not feel obligated to do them uncomplainingly.
***
River,
I know! I feel like I must constantly watch him and protect him from himself. I will address some of the details on my other blog. The Pony has actually been looking for ankle-high shoes for the past month, but didn't find any that suited him on a shopping trip with his cousin. He thought he'd ordered a pair, but had forgotten to click the SUBMIT ORDER button. Which he discovered when he looked it up to see what was taking so long with shipping. And NOW that style is discontinued.
Your Pony needs you, doesn't that fill your heart with motherly love? Yeah, I know what you mean. It would be like trying to potty train another one and I am not up to the challenge!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteEmotionally, I would do anything for The Pony. Physically, it's getting done at a very slow pace. NOW he's getting jacked around by the Urgent Care, who won't fill out his worker's comp form so he can see a specialist. They say the specialist has to fill out the form.
HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? "The specialist must fill out the form, but we can't make you a referral to the specialist until we have the form." The Pony has talked to his boss several times about this problem. They say they are working on it, but they need that form! The PO supervisor said she couldn't fax the forms the night it happened, so they've been expecting The Pony, ON HIS BROKEN ANKLE, to take the paper forms to Urgent Care, where they refuse to fill them out!