What: Right hip pops out of socket
Why: A slight wriggle of the hips whilst well-reclined in comfortable chair, and galloping old age
Then what: Paramedic kindly eases pain with a drug
Result: My spacey drug misadventure back to normal
Seated in my Ezy-boy chair one day, I eased my body into a more comfortable position. Without so much as a 'how's your father', out popped my right hip from its socket after several years in good-working order as a complete right hip replacement, if you please. This was for the first time of happening… (I'm ex Church of England). A little time passed with me squirming or trying to keep still while my granddaughter smiled and ignored my pleas for her to get somebody to help me, thinking it was just another of my jokes. By this time, the desperation and decibel level I'd reached gained my daughter Helen's attention. Something was definitely wrong with Grandaddy.
The St John's Ambulance arrived very quickly. They knew the way to our place by now and probably had the ambulance set on auto-drive. On the floor of our lounge, the officers (two females and a male) opened a large hold-all of drugs and syringes of every description but wouldn't allow me to choose the pretty colourful ones. They knew best, and soon the pain began to ease replaced with an unplanned free trip into space. My advice? Don't try this at home, or anywhere.
Whatever the drugs were that now coursed through my veins, my trained care-givers had warned aforementioned daughter that drugs can have a weird effect on some people. Weird puts it mildly, believe me, for I had entered a grotesque place where nothing was real or distinguishable. Distorted faces came close then moved away several times, their lips moving yet I was hearing nothing and, isn’t that typical, not an angel in sight when you need one. I was me, but a strange disembodied me, no longer fully aware of anything (and I touch nothing stronger than wine gums these days).
Now, whichever way I turned I was staring up close at an ever-moving wall of meaningless shapes and colours. While my care-givers were thinking it was pain that was making me groan, it was the utter disorientation I was trying to come to grips with. Only when daughter Helen's hand held mine and she murmured that she was there did I begin to feel a measure of safety enough to begin to relax.
The above sentences in no way capture the absolute horror I felt was tearing at my sanity. It’s an experience I’m thankful to have behind me. Oh by the way, the hip in question is functioning well and given extreme care by its owner. Thanks indeed to Waikator Hospital (Hamilton) medical and Morrinsville St John’s Ambulance staff for their professional care. I shall sing your praises by enjoying the measure of life you’ve given to. May bands of angels sing you to your rest.
Dennis Crompton © 2011
(first published www.denniscrompton.wordpress.com 2013)
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