A friend in need
Stephen and I were just settling in for the evening, me stretched out on the couch and Stephen in his favourite chair, when I received a phone call from my friend across the road. ‘’Are you busy?’’ were her first words, followed by a request to come over.
I immediately knew something was wrong by the faulting in Susan’s voice. I toyed with the idea of walking, as that day I’d had no exercise due to the rain, but in the end, settled to take the car as I wasn’t sure whether I’d be caught in a further shower if I walked.
It was only a matter of driving down my now gouged-out driveway, across the road, and up hers. Seeing Susan sitting on the wet ground, I knew something was amiss, thinking she had fallen and perhaps broken her leg. But in my mind, I was wondering how she had managed to get her phone and end up back outside in that position. Susan pulled out a bloodied hand, exposing a severe laceration stretching from her palm to partway down her wrist.
She had been outside photographing the metre box when she slipped on a wet board, catching her hand on a poking-out nail as she fell.
It was lucky she had her phone on her. I helped Susan to her feet, she gathered her purse, locked her house and we drove back across the road to pick up Stephen, and made our way to the nearest hospital. I was thankful that the heavy rain forecasted had not been as severe as predicted. While there was flooding, there was no hindrance to our journey to town. And then the wait began. We sat for an hour before Susan was called through into the area to be seen by a nurse and doctor. Fortunately, the clinic did not appear busy, at least there were no other people sitting on the seats alongside us. Having worked in Accident and Emergency myself, I know how quickly things can change. And it wasn’t long before they did. About an hour into the second wait, two burly policemen accompanied a bloodied victim through the doors. He appeared drunk and had obviously done something wrong to be flanked by these men. A bit later the policemen left and a bit later again, the bloodied man walked out, this time, accompanied by another burly gentleman. I think he was exiting for a smoke or maybe he had been disruptive, as when we finally left, both he and the policeman were still outside the building. A crying woman and her partner were let into the area immediately. We made the assumption that she was visiting someone who was in ED and found out later that there was no bed-space in the ward, so this was probably a correct assumption, as patients would have remained there if they couldn’t be taken to the ward. So, while it hadn’t appeared busy on the outside, there was a different story going on, on that side.
There was another young girl who came in and out frequently, again I guess, visiting a patient.
Finally, two-and-a-half hours after we first arrived, Susan walked out the door, her arm now nicely stitched up and supported in a brace, her tetanus up-to-date and full of praise for the care she had received. I was thankful as we left the hospital to see an ambulance pull up and knowing Susan had been attended to. Generally, anyone coming to the hospital in this way would take priority. It could have been an even longer wait.
We slipped up our driveway at a minute or two to midnight. I realised this was the first time I had seen the new day in, in a while. I must be getting old.