I never want to go through today again. Having just watched a bit of Professor Brian Cox explain about the space/time continuum I know that today will be “out there somewhere” but it had better keep away from me if it knows what’s good for it.
T left home about 11.20am on his longboard (skateboard but longer) to go off to meet his mate and then off on a ride to the next village. At about 11.26am I got a call from him telling me very calmly that he’d fallen off his board and couldn’t feel his leg. He was so calm that my initial reaction was oh dear can you get home? No he didn’t think he could walk on it could I come and get him. He was 5 minutes away down a quiet road round the back of our house. I said I would go and help him and left A baking cakes saying I’d be back in a few minutes. I rang him again to say I was on my way for him to tell me that it was ok there were people with him and they’d called an ambulance. What?! An ambulance?! Okay. Now I was worried. I sped up a bit and as I was walking and talking to him a man came on the phone and told me he was pretty sure he’d broken his leg and the ambulance was on its way, just as I rounded the corner to see him curled in a ball on his knees in the middle of the road with 3 people watching over him. Bloody hell. He began crying as soon as he saw me and I knew then it was bad. Somehow I managed to not lose the plot; rang a neighbour to ask her to go over to our house, stop A baking and take her back to hers (wonderful woman got it all sorted straight away and I am forever thankful to her); got the gist of what happened from T and the bystanders (fab people who I am forever thankful to for looking after him and calling the ambulance); comforting T and telling him we’d get him sorted – not necessarily in that order but all at once it seemed.
The ambulance arrived very quickly and the two medics were amazing: calm, humorous, caring, methodical, reassuring. They got him onto a stretcher, got a leg brace on, got him some entonox and into the ambulance. He yelled so hard at one point I nearly cracked. It seemed to take seconds but was about half an hour as they were busy assessing the damage and working out how to proceed. We were then whisked off to L&D Hospital with T sucking on the entonox like a woman in the throes of labour. (He’d finished the entire canister by the time we got to A&E).
I cannot praise the paramedics or the staff in A&E enough. They were incredible. He was welcomed with big smiles and concern and more humour. More pain relief, more assessments then off to x-ray. The radiographer was lovely and accommodating around the leg brace that he couldn’t stand to be moved. Then back to A&E to be told he’d definitely broken it and that he’d almost certainly be staying in overnight. Oh god. Did we want to see a picture? Er, yes? I think the sister wanted us to know how bad it was but couldn’t bring herself to say it. She kept apologising and she was so lovely. Then we saw this:
…and we realised. Oh s**t.
We’d have to wait to see the orthopaedic surgeon to know more it it wasn’t looking good.
Again, this all seemed to take a few moments but by now an hour at least had passed. The ortho men came a while later (more pain meds on board by now) and said, no he should be able to go home. They didn’t want to start talking about surgery and pins. They wanted to try a back cast and then reassess after another x-ray.
Some serious gas and air for the plaster cast. Four nursing staff to do it as they weren’t “used to such long legs” in their department. Another set of x-rays and then the ortho men were back. And the man from Del Monte he say yes! He can go home. Hurrah. Back to fracture clinic next week to reassess and, hopefully no surgery, a full leg cast.
The logistics of getting a 5ft9 young adult into a car with a full leg cast on was almost beyond me by this point (5 hours after arriving at A&E) but between K and I we managed it and he is now home and in bed.
I feel like I’ve been run overly a bus. Well, maybe a small Fiat. He’s been amazing. He’s been brave, stoic, patient, well-humoured. And all with a broken leg bone that must have hurt like bloody hell. He’s still in pain and he’s completely fed up that his summer holidays are basically down the Swanee but he’s home and he’s still managing to smile at my very weak attempts to cheer him up. He’s asked if he can have the PS4 in his room which means he’s feeling ok enough to wind me up (he knows it would take more than a broken leg for me to agree to that!).
It’s going to be a challenge for the next God knows how many weeks but he’s home with us. He’s broken a leg and not his neck. He’s going to mend and be fine.
I wonder if he will stand by his words in the back of the ambulance en route to A&E when I mentioned his board. “Burn it” was his reply. Probably just the entonox talking but I don’t know how I’ll feel when/if he goes out on it next time. I might have to invest in a heavily padded suit for him – to wear for the rest of his life.