Hey everyone,
Just wanted to give you a little update since it might happen to anyone healing from LL.
Last Tuesday, while I was preparing to go to sleep, my right leg started getting achy and throbbing. By the time I got myself into bed around 1am, I could barely move without triggering a stabbing pain the way a fresh fracture feels. I was convinced my right leg fractured or the nail broke like it did to my other LL classmate.
I could not move my right leg because the moment the 'fracture/bone graft' area shifted 1cm, it erupted in 9/10 searing pain. But since it was already 1AM, all I wanted to do was sleep it off and deal with it tomorrow. But the pain persisted as I could NOT move AT ALL without incurring the wrath of my right femur. Finally, I gave up!
I had to do something, get to my morphine and maybe icepack. But I couldn't even stand or crutch or move without paralyzing torment. So I removed the duvet cover from my comforter very very slowly, rolled myself like a springroll on it so that both my legs become a makeshift splint (egyptian mummy style) to ensure minimal movement. Then I threw a pillow on the floor and using my triceps and abs (they're so strong after these 2 years), I slowly slid myself down ass first with my legs straight in front of me resting on the pillow while it glided forward.
The moment I touched the floor, I slowly rolled myself to my tummy and using the pillow under my femur as buffer, I crawled on my stomach using my elbows to propel myself forward (like army bootcamp) from my bedroom to my kitchen to get icepacks and then livingroom to get morphine. I laid on the floor afterwards, completely out of breadth, depleted of energy and waited impatiently for the excruciating pain to recede.
After about 45 mins, nothing improved and I started to feel the room spining and nauseous. I told myself I had better call the paramedics but my phone was in the bedroom (!). So I held my breadth and forged forward with every last ounce of strength I have left while biting down not to quit from the merciless pain. By the time I dialed 911 or 999 or whatever number (I learnt from CSI even though this is London), I could barely speak anymore. I was panting hard, in agonizing pain, sobbing uncontrollably, heart racing, head numb/spinning, and I was very tempted to shut my eyes just to drift off.
Anyway, the ambulance came within like 5 minutes (there's a hospital next to my home) BUT I had no more willpower to open the door for them. So I had to get them to pry it open for me. My blood pressure plummeted to 60 to 65, I was barely coherent, mumbling important facts only and they hooked me up to nitrous oxide (laughing gas) which didn't live up to its name, it didn't make me laugh at all BUT it did calm me down and slowed down my breathing and palpitations.
They had to haul me from the floor onto a wheelchair coz a stretcher cldn't fit in my elevator and I live on the 7th floor. I screeched so much as they lifted me in one swift motion onto the wheelchair that I think dogs heard me ultrasonically. As they wheeled me, even the bump over the threshold of my door caused such an electric jolt, I woke several neighbours too.
Once we got downstairs, my building entrance has about 6 stairs and thank goodness, to the kindness of these paramedics, they carefully balanced my wheelchair horizontally on their shoulders (kinda like in a jewish wedding but without the festivity and dancing) so that I won't trundle down each step with those klunky wheels. Even then, every movement including the final roll up onto the ambulance ram and one more body transfer from chair to bed proved too much for me to handle and I fainted. They quickly hooked me up to an IV paracetamol painkiller, pumped oxygen and asked me to try calm myself as they were afraid with my 60 blood pressure, I would go into shock and then organs would start shutting down.
They wanted to drive me to the closest hospital that had an orthopedist on night duty but I promised them I would withstand the pain if they could drive 20 minutes to Kings College Hospital because my docs are there and so are my medical files etc.
Long story short, we made it, got to the hospital, impeccable professional service, got wheeled straight into mobile xrays where I just lay in my A&E trolley bed while they moved the modern machines around my body. Got results asap and NO FRACTURE but rather, it looked like calluses started forming from my DBX bone graft and they could see some jagged edges. Got tested for bloods, more IV drips of paracetamol and fluids. I had to stay overnight until my regular doc sees me the next day. By then it was 6AM, and my pain was managed well at 2/10 level. I couldn't feel a thing but I was dead tired.
I zonked out for god knows how long and woke up to MY usual orthopedist doc staring down at me with her large unblinking eyeballs (mentally, I jumped out of my skin in sheer terror). I explained the whole story, she was not really that sympathetic because I think she thought I was being melodramatic. Trust me, I didn't want to call the ambulance either for a stupid leg pain but it got so unbearable, I was all alone, I couldn't even help myself, everyone's asleep and I even asked the paramedics if I was wasting their time with something so trifle. It wasn't a gunshot wound, stroke or heart attack the way you see it on tv.
Anyway, I had to stay another night coz the bloods came back weird. My white cell counts were high and inflammation indicators from my bloods were completely off the charts. My doc pored through my xrays closer to see if there was perhaps a hairline fracture or nail breakage that they had missed. But so far, nothing. I was taken to MRI and CT scans as well.
Next day, my doc came to see me with a panel of her orthopedic team, and this time around, she seemed (suspiciously) much much kinder and more empathetic towards me (whassup doc?). She said that my muscles especially those around the shoulders and arms were all inflammed and strained quite badly. She asked me if I had struggled a lot before calling the paramedics and I started breaking down in tears. I told her the stupid ordeal of finding a way to save myself by crawling on my tummy all over my house with a pillow as my life raft and duvet cover as my mummy-looking makeshift splint. I had to be resourceful because the pain was insupportable. People who have broken a bone before would know the pain, especially right at the moment of fracture when the sharps ends rub against each other.
I was discharged finally on Thursday evening and guess what, during this entire time, I forgot to wear clothes (because I always sleep nked). As in, I was under so much duress, clothes didn't even enter my panicking head. I was just wrapped in blankets and got discharged in a very stylish hospital gown, looking ready for a toga party.
So that's another mini incident. I've since spoken to a few LLers and some non-unioners, and they say it can happen when your calluses are hardening and some parts might be rubbing other parts the wrong way and you get 'FRACTURE ELECTROCUTION' (not on WebMD, I coined this myself
). She warned me that it could happen again but at the very least, I got a first sneak peak at my right leg xrays and there are hypertrophic calluses/clouds around my whopping 10cm non-union lengthened gap. She says it's no guanrantee of anything because they could disappear as fast as they appear (kinda like the sun in London) but at this very moment - it was good news and that's GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME
CLL is fun eh? Very eventful to say the least... posted some pictures on insta during those moments. Part PTSD came from the exact same pain when my left leg fractured and was left unattended for 5 days while Guichet was away and he was convinced it was just fast bone consolidation and refused to prescribe me morphine or painkillers (we were allowed copious quantities of aspirin). Thank god for my wonder nurse who resourcefully grinded sleeping pills into my meals so that I literally slept through 5 days until Guichet returned to London and granted me an overdue consultation and xray.
In both situations, I felt like a nunchuk, broken and dangling in 2 pieces. It reminds me of starring in a sadistic magic show where I get sawed in half, except it happened for real.
https://www.instagram.com/unicorn_gets_taller/