When Jen called me at work about 10:30 this morning, I knew that today would be no typical day and my evening plans might be slightly altered. What I didn't realize is that the evening adventure would include a multi hour trip to the local Emergency Room.
Today is Wednesday and Jen's work schedule every Wednesday includes checking in a large food order and putting it away in her kitchen. Today was no exception. The truck arrived on schedule and all was well until she actually began to unpack the boxes and put the items away. About halfway through her task of tearing open boxes, unpacking them onto her cart in the hallway, wheeling them into the kitchen, and placing them on racks and shelves in their various locations, she fell. Not your typical slip on a wet floor, tripping over a shoelace, or rolling an ankle kind of fall either. This was a standing on a step ladder, her feet about two and a half feet above the surface of the floor, and crashing down when the step ladder broker underneath her kind of fall. Thankfully, she avoided major injury in the process but she did managed to whack her right wrist twice during the fiasco; once on the overhead cabinet she was placing items into, and a second time on the top of the refrigerator as she caught herself from a far worse fall. Workers Comp claim, here we come!
As they were required to, her employer, shady as they may be, handed her a Workers Comp claim form, sent her home, and told her to go get it checked out. When she couldn't find the clinic they suggested near by to her place of employment, she opted to contact our family physician instead. Unfortunate timing has our regular doctor out of the country. He happens to be DO(Doctor of Osteopath aka bone guy), I'm a self admitted accident-prone klutz of course my family doctor is a DO. Anyway, his office staff told Jen to wait until the after hours clinic opened at 6 PM, see them to have it checked out, and have the clinic fax over all the records to our doctors office for review and follow-up.
Promptly at 6 PM, Jen was walking in the doors of the nearby after hours clinic as instructed, only to be told they couldn't see her. Unfortunately for us, and I include me in this because I am also sitting here in the ER waiting room, as I type this entry in fact, Jen's employer neglected to give her any of the insurance information to bill their workers comp carrier. Convenient error on their part! Jen returned home, in tears from the stress and hatred for her current employer, long story there but I am in total agreement that WHEN they close their doors later this year it will be the best thing that could happen to their staff and the children they care for.
It was now well after 6:30PM and there was no way to reach anyone who may have the information we needed to get the after hours clinic to treat her aching wrist. We tried every home and cell number we had, sought some advice from sister Kimmy who is an MA (Medical Assistant), and finally called the ER nearby to find out if they could treat her and bill workers comp for us. Answer in hand, we climbed into the car about 7PM, drove to the local ER, and checked in around 7:15PM, during the first episode of Martin. Now 10:45 as I type these words, here we sit. I have seen two episodes of Living Single, Martin, The Jeffersons, and another unknown black sitcom.
Jen has been through triage, returned to sit with me in the waiting room for another half hour, and finally went in to be treated a little over an hour ago. Having been in the same chair for multiple hours sitting in front of the small T.V tuned into TV ONE, the all black sitcom channel nearest I can tell, I finally got up to walk around about 10PM. Last I saw of Jen was through the narrow rectangle window in the double door separating the waiting room from the treatment area of the ER. She was following a worker down the hall and appeared to be headed for X-Ray. That was an episode and a half of The Jeffersons ago, about 45 minutes in 'real world time'.
Will this night ever end?
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