This will probably not make much sense or not flow properly as I don't have the concentration and I am in pain and also knackered from the pain killers...
So Friday night...
I was on a mission. Actually I wasn't but the girls are saying I was. I went round to one of the girls houses for a BBQ. I took two bottles of wine with me and drank them both in about 4 hours. I wasn't feeling that pissed at all really. After I finished the wine I decided I wanted more. The girls were laughing at me as they said they couldn't believe I had had 2 bottles of wine as I didn't seem that pissed. So I decided to walk to the shop. I remember walking to the shop really clearly and I wasn't that pissed. I took the wine back to my friends and that's when it starts to go a bit hazy. I remember in my drunken state I was telling then about my mentally interestingness. I finished the 3rd bottle of wine.
At some point they decided to go in to town. I said I wanted to go. I can't remember much from this point it was really hazy. What I remember is having a drink in Revolution. Leaving there and falling over and then the pain! What happened was. My friend swapped my drink that I brought for a coke and I couldn't tell. I then locked myself in the toilet. I then locked myself and 2 friends in the toilet and wouldn't let them leave. After they negotiated with me to leave and I agreed the bouncers dragged me out through the bar and dumped me in the street. My friends were trying to calm me down as I was angry and wouldn't let anyone near me. I then ran off from them. It was through running off I fell over. I remember the pain. I have a vague recollection of a Street Angel person. My friends called an ambulance as I couldn't get up at all as it was that painful. It did sober me up a bit. I don't remember much of the ambulance journey other than pain.
In A+E they gave me some painkillers. 5 minutes later I threw them up. Dihydrocodeine does not agree with me. It always makes me sick. I wasn't aware they had given it to me until after when I was throwing up, nice.
They sent me for x-ray which made me scream out in pain. They had to manipulate my foot so they could get the right angles for the x-ray. Ow ow ow! I was then seen by an orthopaedic doctor. He informed me that it was broken and that I needed to be kept in. I said can't you just cast it and let me go. He laughed at me and said you can't put any weight at all on it, you can't stand it being touched, in a word no! He said he was referring me to the surgeons as they would need to review it and I would possibly need to have surgery.
Then Bitch Nurse came in. She wasn't even my nurse or working in my area. She was just being nosy. She came in asked what I had taken. She had the most sour look on her face. She hardly gave me chance to get my reply out before making another snidy comment. I just said I had fallen over while wearing heels and I had broken my foot. Then she said I bet you were pissed. Her attitude just stank. I really don't like her. I have made that pretty obvious before though haven't I?
Anyway. By now I was sober. The pain and being sick kinda helped that along. I was taken up to the ward. I was dreading it. I was just glad I wasn't put on one of the admission wards where the staff know me. I was pleasantly surprised (as pleasantly as you can be when it comes to hospitals) at how quiet the ward was. Yay. No coffin dodgers for me. By now I had asked for more pain relief as the codeine had made me sick and I hadn't had anything else. So they gave me morphine. 20mg. That didn't really work all that well either so an hour later they gave me 20mg more and that did work. I didn't really get any sleep though. The surgeon came to see me at about 7.30am and he said I didn't need surgery. Yay! So I was expecting to be let out. Nope. The physiotherapists came to see me and made me have a go on crutches. I could not use them. I couldn't get more than 2 steps. So they said I was unsafe on them and they wouldn't be letting me go. So night 2 in hospital. Also that day I was still feeling really sick. I ended up being sick a couple of times. The second time there was loads of blood in it. It worried me. I wasn't going to tell them I swallowed a needle a few weeks before either. They rushed around me a bit panicking, took my obs and beeped the doctor to come see me. She didn't seem all that worried. Just said it was probably from retching that had caused a small tear.
On the 3rd day the physios came to see me again. This time they made me use the zimmer frame and took the crutches away. I didn't feel all that safe on those. They also made me attempt going upstairs on crutches. It was terrifying. I think a lot of it was fear but I could just not hop up the stairs while using a crutch as support and while holding on to a banister. So on to my bum. I managed to get up the stairs ok but when I got to the top I couldn't get up. Because of the needle in my arm the angle my arm needed to be at to push myself up I couldn't do it. So...not going home again.
That night I fell over. It was so embarrassing. I was coming back from the loo on the zimmer frame and I went a bit weird on it and ended up crashing to the ground. No one saw me as I was around a corner. I didn't have a bell near me and it was quite late at night. So I had to shout out. All of a sudden there were about 6 nurses surrounding me asking me loads of questions. I just said I had stumbled and it was no big deal but I couldn't get up. Not being of the petite variety I didn't want people lifting me. I had cut my knee open where I had landed on it (it was from where fell off motorbike last year and I always seem to manage to get that and cut open when I fall). So I couldn't get on to my good knee on the hospital floor. In the end they passed it up for me, got me some towels and I managed to push up on the frame using my good leg and my arms. I nearly broke my other ankle in the process as it bent with the top of my foot being on the floor and me putting weight through it. Ow! Lol. Wheelchair back to bed loads of obs taken and more morphine.
Monday morning...more physio. They kept trying for me to put weight through my foot but there was no way I could do it. They kept telling me I needed to get my foot to the floor so the blood can flow it will heal. There is just no way I could manage it. I did manage to get up when I got to the top of the stairs. I figued out that if I turned round on to my knee I could pull my self forwards, so yay...stairs managed. The doctors came to see me and said my leg needed to be put in a cast and not in a splint. For the type of fracture it is you can usually get away with a splint that can be removed, good for showered. But it didn't really give me enough support. I had been asking for a cast all along as the first night I was in, although it hurt it was more supported and I felt more confident with it. However, they said I should not be wearing a cast as of the way the injury will heal any my foot could end up with no mobility if that was the case. But, the sister on the ward noticed my foot was in a weird position. It was pointing down like in a ballerina pose. I couldn't hold it back at all. It was far too painful. So then they said that if my foot dropped like that then I would really struggle to walk once healed as I wouldn't be able to put my foot to the floor. My achillies would have also shortened and it would be like I have always worn heels and never wore flats. If that makes sense. So they said the risks of it healing in an odd position were not as high as it not being in a cast and it heeling in ballerina position. So cast it was.
Cue, a hell of a lot of pain. Someone had to manipulate my foot into position and hold it there while the other put it in a cast.
On Tuesday (the 4th day) I was allowed to go home. I was given the option. I was told I could stay if I wanted but also if I could arrange transport home I could go. I asked if I would be able to take the same painkillers home and they said I could so I decided to go home.
Being at home is better in a way and not in another. I have stairs to contend with her and they are not easy. They are not just straight up and take a couple of turns so getting up them is just knackering. I wake in the night in loads of pain and am having to medicate in the night. I am not liking being on the morphine as is making me knackered and spaced out.
Being at home is frustrating. I am having to rely on parents to do everything for me. I can't even get myself a drink and have it in living room as I can't carry it through. Same with food. I can't go to the shop as I can't drive and I am useless on crutches. I still can't weight bare on my foot and if I do it hurts at the time but also after and it's more of an ongoing pain.
Then there's the problems this could cause with uni with missing time. I am so annoyed at myself, at the situation and I am just miserable and angry. I don't want to be stuck in the house. My friends don't live near by and can't drive so they can't come visit. It's so frustrating. I want to go back to work on Tuesday but my uni tutor has told me I am not to go back until I can confidently get up and down stairs and so I am not spaced out on drugs. I wanna go back but I can see her point. I can't get up and down the stairs of the building I am based in. And I fall asleep constantly as of the drugs. So I am screwed. And it's all my fault!!!!