Tuesday, March 3, 2009

6 pound frame on a 2 inch toe

So 12 days ago, I noticed that someone shoved our large wind chimes into a moving box for artwork that holds a large painting (I won't name the husband who put the chimes there). I was afraid the wind chimes would scratch the frame, so I pulled the them out of the box.

What I didn't know was the wind chimes were holding up some smaller frames that had also been shoved into the box (again, by the same unmentioned husband). The 6-pound frame (that held the diploma of some guy-who-lives-here) dropped from a height of four feet. Onto my big toe.

After screaming bloody murder, and having a good, hard cry (it HURT!), and icing it, I elevated it and watched the toe turn all sorts of pretty shades of purple (yes, I was having flashbacks to the ankle I sprained years ago. Pretty, pretty colours.)

It hurt for a few days, then went away. Then two days ago, still slightly bruised, it started aching. And I realized I couldn't touch it. I hemmed and hawed, and finally got scared into going to the doctor by a friend of mine who started talking about blood clots and such (thanks, Claude!).

The point of all this prelude is that we managed to navigate our way through seeing a doctor without an appointment, getting an X-ray, getting a diagnosis, and getting my toe taped - which was the longest part of the whole process (the nurses' clinic was closed that day, so the doctor had to do it), and was something I could have done myself, being that I used to be an EMT. And we did all this mostly in Hebrew.

In the US and Canada (probably in England & SA, too, I assume?), when you get an X-ray, the technicians are extra careful about asking if you're pregnant, and putting the big lead vest on you, and explaining what's going on.

Yeah. Not here. When my name was called (along with something sounding like "codor regel" which made no sense to me, because "codor regel" means football, and I certainly wasn't there for field goal tryouts), no one was waiting for me, I was facing 3 doors that said X-ray, none of which were open, and when I asked the woman in the one office that was open which room I should go into, she responded with the Israeli equivalent of, "how the hell should I know?!"

Eventually, someone came looking for me, asked me what was being X-rayed, put my foot in the camera field, tossed a very small lead sheet at me and left. Good thing I knew where to put the sheet. He came back, moved my foot, and left. He came back into the room, said, "zehu" (that's it) and left for the final time. Left me lying on the table with the lead sheet. Okey dokey, then.

I should mention that he slammed the door each time, and he reeked of cigarettes. Welcome to Israel :)

The very cool thing is they gave me my X-rays on a disc, so I was able to look at them myself when I got home. And you can, too!

And of course, what did we learn in Hebrew class today, the day after I needed to go to the Kupat Cholim (health clinic)? All about going to the Kupat Cholim.

Thanks. Now I'll know for next time.