I Broke my Face

We went to Fitzgeralds on Monday and brought Camille along from work. She is one of the new interns, and since she is from France we thought she would fit right into our group of random nations (mostly Canadian). When I saw two girls ordering off the USIT menu I invited them to join us, and that’s when we found out students at Trinity go to Fitzgeralds and ask for the same menu in order to get better prices. Oh well, I can’t say I’m any different, apart from my connection to Dale.

I was happy to have two days off in a row on Wednesday and Thursday; I’d forgotten how great it was to actually have a weekend and do nothing with it. Everyone else was working so I watched some TV on the laptop and did some reorganizing of the house, and nothing else. After work on Friday Dale and I went to Anne’s to watch the Sochi Olympics Opening Ceremonies, and then it was pouring down rain and we had to work the next day so unfortunately we didn’t make it to Caillan’s birthday party. We made sure to go out Saturday to KT’s though, and I let Caillan know that I owe him a drink. KT’s party started at Fitzgeralds, where a rugby match had the bar filled with red and white clothing, and there was even live music. I had never seen Fitzgeralds so full! Becca and I cut off the hangar-straps from our dress and shirt to put together a necklace for KT’s birthday pin, which was resourceful and surprisingly successful! We stayed for a drink, and when our collection of people had all arrived we headed through the cobbles of Temple Bar and arrived at The Porter House. The Welsh inside The Porterhouse looked like a bunch of “Where’s Waldos,” and they were happy to sing KT some songs in Welsh for her birthday. Dale and I didn’t drink much, and we left around midnight to grab a cab because I had to be up at 5:30 the next day. I knew I was going to be tired, but was banking on my recent two days off to help me through it.

Sadly, I didn’t make it to work on Sunday. As usual, I had to take the bike in the dark because the bus doesn’t run early enough, and when I went to cross the Luas tracks just around the corner from the hotel, I found myself smashed face-first into the ground without any reaction time, not even fear. I staggered up immediately with a horribly loud alarm bell sounding in my own head. I grabbed my bike and focused on two things: just get off the tracks, and then sit down. But I couldn’t straighten the bike out because the wheel had turned completely around and I didn’t have the time or energy for it, so I dragged it to the side and sat on the sidewalk. By then a man who had been passing in the only vehicle around had run over. He asked if I was alright and I said, “I’m okay,” and then groaned, “Ohhh, my head,” which may have seemed contradictory. He made me sit farther back where it wasn’t wet, which I thought was pointless since my goal had been sit, not pick a spot for a picnic. He asked if it was the Luas tracks that did it, cursing them because apparently it happens all the time. I had no idea what had happened; I was minding my own business, and then I was down. He ran back to the car for water as his wife arrived and asked if I wanted an ambulance. I just kept panting, “I don’t know,” because I honestly didn’t know how all the medical stuff would work in Ireland and I was having a hard time breathing, not to mention hearing. I told her I could hear really loud ringing and she made up her mind for me. Her husband came back with the water, then snatched it from me after a sip when the operator said I couldn’t have anything.

The lady called work for me, then the ambulance arrived, the paramedics shone lights in my eye, and then I walked into the ambulance through steps mid-way along the side. I couldn’t see very well; one of the paramedics sat to my left facing me, but it was like my left eye was picking up bright shafts of light from right behind him. When we arrived at the Emergency Department in St. James’ Hospital, I sat down and both paramedics went to reception with my information. I put my head between my knees, feeling an intense need to vomit that centered around my stomach rather than the impulse in the throat. One of the men came back and told me I needed to go into Triage, and I just said, “I think I might throw up.” He grabbed me a bag, and after a minute they both walked me into the side-room, where they took my blood pressure and I sat until I started to feel more aware. The nurse in Triage asked about the Luas line tracks and said one of their doctors had once broken their hip doing the same thing.

Then I was sent back to the waiting room with my headache for five hours. Work called reception and asked for me. I spoke to John, who I’ve rarely talked to before, and he asked if he could get my bike for me, or do anything. I really appreciated the concern. I texted Heather, who had already heard and wanted to know if I was alright, and called Dale from the bathroom. Since his phone wouldn’t call out, I tried Niall and Leonie a few times too, and asked Niall to pick him up and come out. It was a rude awakening for seven am on a Sunday! Dale and Niall sat with me until twelve, Dale getting ice for me since no staff offered. Niall had to pop out for a minute eventually, and then someone finally realized I should have been seen by now.

Before the bruising really started

I went to a doctor who gave Dale a hard time for not having proposed to me yet, and then made plans for him to do it on Valentine’s day at the Whitefriar Street Church where Saint Valentine’s remains are. He also gently hinted at a lecture on helmets and being Catholic but already living together, which was very amusing in its stereotype-form. But one of the  first things he said was, “Luas line?” as if to say, “Yes, another?” The doctor said my jaw was fine, just that muscle and nerve damage was causing my teeth to feel numb and my jaw not to open. He was concerned that I may have broken my cheekbone, so he sent me for an x-ray, then cleaned up the scrape on my forehead. This was no big deal compared to when I passed out on my face three years ago and the doctor practically took an SOS-pad to my forehead to clean it up.

Dale and I both figured it would be fine, thinking it would hurt a lot worse if it were broken, but it turns out my cheekbone was, in fact, fractured in two places. The doctor said he was going to get someone to come in and see if I’d need surgery or plates once the swelling went down. Again, I thought that would be unnecessary. Again, it turns out I was wrong. They scheduled me for an appointment on Wednesday and said hopefully I’d be able to have the surgery then, and if not, then next week. They could have done it immediately, but because I was forced to wait so long in the Emergency Department, there was now too much swelling. Incidentally, it’s the swelling that apparently makes my cheeks look even, but my left one is actually caved in a little. It was hard to believe it was so bad, but when we headed outside to wait for Niall, I started laughing. I managed to break my face...

Niall came back to pick us up and take us to the people who had called the ambulance and kept my bike safe. They lived in a nice, sunny area nearby. The bike seemed fine by now, and the lady was very concerned. She said her husband had seen the whole thing, and she had just seen me tumbling. I don’t remember any tumbling at all. But she said they both thought I was a goner, and made a point to tell me how concerned work sounded when she had called them. I thanked her, and then we left to get my prescriptions. I have four different pills to take, and all of it only cost 16 euros.

I was getting a lot of text messages by then, from Rosaleen, Leonie, Fionnuala, Heather, and even work. As soon as we said goodbye and thank you to Niall, I called work to get it over with. I spoke to Gillian, who was hosting, as well as reception and Michael, the supervisor. He was not surprised to hear I would be out of work for one to two weeks. He said not to worry about this week for now, and we’d see what the doctor said from there. He told me everyone had been really worried because the lady who called said I was taking an ambulance, and there was no other clue as to how bad it was. Susie, the Food and Beverage manager, sent a few texts throughout the night telling me to just ask if I needed anything! Between work and my family and friends, there’s a lot of support going on right now.

The next thing I did was Skype with Sydnee, who was with my family in Manchester. She said they offered money if I needed it, and they want me to visit soon. Then Sydnee managed to get a hold of Mum in Canada, who I Skyped with next. She felt terrible that she couldn’t be here to help me, but immediately set out looking up whether or not BC Medical will have me covered. I sent messages to my other sisters, and Dad and Cecilia. I Skyped with Dom, who thought it sounded worse than it actually looked, which seems about right. I’m especially lucky considering my face is so numb that it doesn’t really hurt. Cecilia managed to get a hold of Dad, whose reaction was similar to Mum’s. He felt bad that he couldn’t be here, but started trying to find out if I was really covered for medical. But even though they aren’t here, I’ll be well taken care of at Rosaleen and Vincent’s, where I’ll be going to stay for a while. Fionnuala has already gone out to get me the ingredients for a juices-only diet. I’m not looking forward to a whole five to six weeks of that though!

That evening Heather and Anne came over and we relaxed and watched the sixth Harry Potter. I obviously started nodding at some point, but it was nice to do something ordinary after a day at the hospital. Today the only difference is the colour of my bruising, and that my right arm feels sore. Not too bad, considering! Even my notoriously bad back and neck feel fine. I think the lesson is that I need padding for everyday-wear.

Today: it's easier to smile to the right!