Columnist takes a fall over the holidays
Columnist fractured his right femur after stumbling over laptop charger cable
I was travelling toward the ground at warp speed and knew in a fraction of a second my life was going to be totally changed.
The wind was suddenly knocked out of me and I felt an excruciating pain in my right hip.
I lay in semi-darkness in my den and breathed deeply, knowing my only course of action was to push myself across the living-room floor on my back to reach a phone and call for an ambulance.
“Can the paramedics get into your home?” the 911 operator asked.
I realized my Riverbend condo door was locked and crawled another four metres on my back to open it.
“We’re going to the Royal Alexandra Hospital,” said the driver, who had been good enough to grab my cellphone and laptop.
It was 9 a.m. Tuesday, Dec. 19 and I had no idea the emergency ward was so busy it would be three days before a spiral fracture of my right femur would be treated.
It did give me time to check Canadian government statistics for the odds of my falling as a senior and found falls are the most common cause of injury among older Canadians.
One out of three Albertans over age 65 will fall at least once a year and one out of two Albertans over age 80 will fall once a year.
Falls cause 85 per cent of seniors’ injury-related hospitalizations and 95 per cent of all hip fractures.
One-third of seniors are admitted to long-term care following hospitalization for a fall.
It came as no surprise to learn falls can result in chronic pain, reduced mobility, loss of independence and even death.
The cost of falls to Canada is $2 billion annually.
I felt ashamed and embarrassed when I realized I had no one but myself to blame for my fall.
I had gone into my den to pick up my reading glasses and didn’t notice my laptop charger wire had tangled under a chair leg and had become a trip wire.
Before my operation, I chose a general anesthetic. I would have preferred a spinal, but I was in so much pain I thought a general would be easier.
The next thing I remember was people in white gowns and masks drifting by pushing gurneys. And both of my arms were tied to a chair.
A woman told me she was a nurse in the recovery room and added, “You were rather aggressive when you woke up.”
My surgeon, Dr. Edward Masson, is a master. He pinned the top of my broken femur to a plate and put two bands around the bone, attaching them to the man-made rod installed inside the hollow femur in a previous hip operation.
The day after my operation, a nurse sought to make me stand, but gave up when I yelled so much.
Two physiotherapists the following day also gracefully retired at the sound of my moans, one suggesting I needed more pain medication.
Christmas Day was the third day after my operation and I was able to get up and walk around briefly with the help of a two-wheeled walker.
I was shown exercises and by early on New Year’s Day I was walking some 50 metres and being helped to a shower.
Later, I was told I would be transferred to Capital-Care’s Norwood post-acute care department as soon as a flu lockdown was lifted.
One out of three Albertans over age 65 will fall at least once a year and one out of two Albertans over age 80 will fall once a year.
But I was temporarily transferred across the road to the hospital’s orthopedic surgery centre.
Staff at the Alex call the centre The Palace. Here, 4,000 knee and hip replacements are carried out each year in its four operating suites and there are more than 50 individual rooms with a toilet and a shower.
I know it well. I had two hip replacements there.
On Sunday, Jan. 7, after 19 days in hospital, I felt depressed and asked if I could go home.
“You probably can if you can convince the physio and occupational therapists you can get into your home and care for yourself,” said a friendly nurse.
An occupational therapist told me two small steps leading to my unit were the only problem. They weren’t large enough to hold my walker and hopping up narrow steps on one leg using crutches would be a risky gamble.
The next day I sent an SOS to friends asking for ideas.
Allan Mayer, the former Journal editor-in-chief, said he’d come and pick me up in 45 minutes and bring his dog ramp plus a crude wooden platform.
Before he arrived, I also negotiated the loan of a wheelchair from the Red Cross.
Mayer, who really wanted to test the strength of his dog ramp, realized it was too narrow and said, “I’ll be back.”
He quickly reappeared with the wooden platform. It was the same height as my lower step and, pushed in my wheelchair, I was in my own home again two minutes later.
I have been told to not to put any weight on my right leg for another six weeks. But it doesn’t matter. I feel like a schoolboy home for the holidays.