Eat to the Beat of the Emergency Room

“Each year, millions of skiers come to Colorado to experience its superb emergency medical facilities.” - Dave Barry

Last night's Eat to the Beat event in support of Willow Breast Cancer Support Canada was a resounding success. Merv, my sisters and I joined 850 other people as we sampled the wares of sixty female chefs and a host of brewers and vintners at Roy Thompson Hall. The mood was upbeat, the music wonderful and the food was extraordinary. The four pieces of jewelry I made for sale at the silent auction brought in a price far beyond my expectations. After three hours of socializing, eating and walking around Roy Thompson Hall in my four inch heels, I was ready to call an end to the evening so I could slip off my shoes. Cathy ran out of steam a few minutes before Nan and I did so she left about fifteen minutes before we tried to make our exit. After a round of goodbyes to friends and fellow board members, we headed toward the parking garage. Nancy somehow lost her footing on the five carpeted stairs at the exit from the hall and started to tumble down the stairs. She did successfully grab my hand, crushing my fingers and yanking my wrist in the process, but giving me a chance to secure her enough to prevent her from hitting the ground. A Roy Thompson Hall staffer appeared with an emergency kit and iced Nan's aching ankle. About forty minutes later he took her to her car in a wheelchair. Despite Merv's entreaties to let us drive her home, she insisted she was alright and would drive herself.

Thankfully, Nan made it home safely. When I called her this morning to check on her again, she raised little opposition to my suggestion that I pick her up and take her to the hospital to have the ankle checked. That was a good clue that she was feeling pretty bad. She comforted herself that things were probably not that serious - perhaps just a minor sprain because there was little swelling. I saw the opposite. I felt reasonably sure she wasn't dealing with a sprain at all because there was so much pain and so little swelling. To me, that spelled a break. A few hours in the Emergency Room at Sunnybrook confirmed my diagnosis. She broke the ankle. The good news is that there will be no cast and no surgery. A pull of her ligament forced a fracture of the ankle causing a piece of the bone to flake off. There is no treatment other than time and the prognosis is for a fairly speedy recovery.

As I sat in the waiting room at Sunnybrook, I watched lots of people come into the room - many of them clearly ill and struggling. There was much moaning, and some vomiting. One man was masked (which I appreciated). One woman declared in a voice loud enough for us all to hear that she needed to be admitted for psychiatric care after a suicide attempt last night. I was impressed with the volunteers who walked around the room offering warm blankets and soothing words to patients and visitors alike. The news was playing on one of the TVs in the waiting room. Prominent on the news report was a plea for donations to the Daily Bread Food Bank from a collection site just a block away from the hospital. After a couple of hours, a nice young doctor emerged from the back and called my name. He told me Nan was ready to go home and asked that I take good care of her. After a trip to the drug store to pick up a cane and a stop at the Daily Bread collection site to drop off a cheque, Nancy was safely home, sore but with the assurance she will be okay. And for that, I am very grateful.