Everything on me hurt, like my hand that I had been painfully smashing between my body and the hard surface floor for three hours. The fall twisted my head and neck, leaving my face smeared onto the floor while my cheekbone burned in pain from the slam and continuous pressure, and I could not move. The sound of my snapping neck during the fall echoed through my brain bucket, causing my imagination to run wild with dangerous possibilities. Finally, at six in the morning, it was time for call number four thousand one to plead for help from the only phone number my Alexa would call.
“Alexa, call Mom.” I felt like a man walking the desert dying of thirst, heading for a mirage in search of water, hoping my mom would actually pick up the phone. Suddenly, I had won the lottery because the phone did not go directly to voicemail but sounded like a ringing telephone on the other end. Finally, after two of the longest rings of my life, my mom picked up, and without explaining, I exclaimed in my muffled voice, “Mom, call 911; I am hurt badly and need help.” Quickly and without questions or verbalizing her plans, she responded okay, and the line abruptly disconnected.
After what felt like an hour, but in reality, it was closer to five minutes, I could hear my mom punching the code in and the motor grinding to open my deadbolt. She entered my office, where I was lying uncomfortably on the floor, explaining she could not call for help without the facts of the situation. Although she wanted to help me, I quickly clarified I should not move, as I heard a snap, crackle, or pop in my neck during the fall, and I did not want to risk further damage. I explained everything that had occurred, and without haste, my mom called that triple-digit rescue number to get me the help I so desperately needed.
When the firefighters arrived, and after a quick assessment, they cautiously lifted me from my prone position, placing me in my wheelchair. While seated, they took my vitals and continued to assess the damage, finding nothing, although they recommended I go to the ER. As we waited, I had two more vicious muscle spasms that would have launched me out of my chair and onto the floor if not for the firefighters’ quick reaction time. However, they were unconcerned and did not have me wear a neck brace or any other bracing for my neck or back. The ambulance finally arrived to whisk me away to a nicer, yet not much farther from the previous ER.
The ambulance took me to a standalone emergency room called Trailwinds ER, where many outstanding staff members expedited my examination. First, medical assistant Sandy placed me in a room, taking my vitals, insurance details, and other pertinent information. Next, nurse Janet received orders from doctor Bob to scan my neck and face to verify any damage. After two hours and two scans, Dr. Bob explained that there was no significant or permanent damage and that I could go home.
The staff at Trailwinds ER were done with me and my medical scans by 9:00 a.m. and released me to go home. Unfortunately, I had to wait for hospital transport to take me home, as I had no other means of transportation. With nothing to do, I stayed on the gurney for five hours while transport came from an hour away. When we arrived at my house, they put me in my manual wheelchair, and I was back to the starting point, no worse for wear.
So after my morning of torturous turmoil was all said and done, I purchased that emergency “save me” device the next day. Once the salesperson learned of my frightening four-hour tale, he overnighted the call button rescue kit at his cost directly to me. I tested the device, comically quoting the commercial, saying, “help me, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up,” although there was no laughter on their end as it was really to amuse myself. The urgent rescue necklace worked well except for a few slight delays in response times, and they later told me of their understaffed dilemma. After that, however, I felt safer having this pressable pendant dangling around my neck as it eagerly waited to be called to active duty with a simple squeeze, quickly crying out to prove its worth.
After several months of getting stronger and achieving horizontal sleeping quarters, I felt secure again. The bruising on my chest had healed, and I had no violent muscle spasms or minor ones that caused a fall or near fall in quite a while. I felt safe no longer using the makeshift seat belt to secure me to my wheelchair and had no spasticity unstabilizing me in my seat. However, I began often having accidental button pushes calling for unneeded help, forcing me to explain too frequently about each false alarm. So this once-beneficial medical alert system was essential for several months and later became discouraging with all the false alarms, so I ended my contract.
A Vicious story, A Victorious ending.
2 thoughts on “Come on and Rescue Me… The last episode…”
Perfect way to tell the story
Charlene English ”I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.”
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