Humerus

So today was a very good day until it wasn’t. I guess that’s how all bad days go. They blind side you. Snipers.

Back in May, Andrea bought us tickets to see comedian Fortune Feimster. After the show, we walked to the car in the parking garage - spirits buoyed after belly laughs. Andrea went to the drivers side of her Jeep and I went to the passenger side. Then I heard a thump from the drivers side of the Jeep. When I looked over, no Andrea.

“Are you okay?”

Andrea was not okay because she had tripped over some metal poles that were on the ground, extending into the parking spot where she had to walk to get into her car.

She was in a tremendous amount of pain in her arm. Thanks to Google, I learned we were .4 miles from an Emergency Room. Of course, there was a detour so I motored around the block muttering F bombs and apologizing for hitting bumps which jostled Andrea’s arm, which, although I’m not a medical professional, I am fairly certain is broken.

I was told I couldn’t wait in the ER with Andrea, which was probably just as well as I imagine it’s a Petri dish for COVID. Even so, this sucked because it’s hard to advocate for yourself when you’re in pain. So I snuck back into the Petri dish to try to do just that. I left Andrea at the emergency room around 10 P so I could come home, feed the pets, let the dogs out and maybe avoid contracting COVID.

Hours later, Andrea confirms she broke her humerus. Which, in spite of the pronunciation of the word, is not all funny. Particularly when it snaps in THREE PLACES. I guess the irony is that we had seen Fortune who is very humorous.

Andrea’s drugs kick in and she is able to text. When she sends a meme to me and a friend, I point out that it’s 3 AM.

At close to 4 AM, Andrea messages that she is about to be sprung. I head out. I take the exit ramp to the hospital and there’s a huge accident. An ambulance is on the scene and a police officer whips past me. I’m a half mile from the hospital and I cannot get to Andrea. I cannot back up or then around. It’s a long ramp with traffic exiting. I sit there, helpless, and think, “I need an adult. Goddammit.”

The road opens and a line of us snake past in our cars. An empty car is in the road and two police cars are behind it. Someone has had a worse night than Andrea. When I arrive at the ER, an ambulance is unloading someone - most likely the someone whose car is empty on the ramp. I wait outside in the car a bit, avoiding the COVID Petri dish but eventually venture in as if it will somehow speed up the process. It doesn’t. The nurses have changed. We are onto the 11 - 7 shift now. The nurse tells me she’s being discharged. I assume they mean today but I can’t be sure given the pace. This hospital plays the lullaby tune over the speakers, presumably when a baby is born. I’ve heard it at around 945 and at 440 AM. It sounds like hope. It‘s 445 AM now and I hope we get home and get some sleep tonight.