A half-delightful week in Paris - one with a surprising twist
Sep 1st, 2008, 12:35 PM
#21
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Oh, my goodness. This is why I always keep an eagle eye on my husband when we are in museums or other crowded public spaces. I feel like my head is on a swivel sometimes, but I have an unreasoning fear of our getting separated when traveling. Your experience made me realize that we ought to have a backup "meetup" plan should we ever lose each other. Can't wait for the next installment -- I assume you found your DH, but I really feel for you!
Sep 1st, 2008, 02:41 PM
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NorCalif - I am really feeling your pain as I had a bad fall down a spiral staircase in a small restaurant on Ile St Louis in Paris in May 2007. I, too, couldn't get up and because of the narrow staircase, no one could help me! At least my husband was right there, heard me fall, and came running! He was finally able to lift me somehow from behind and get me the rest of the way down. Also, I was fortunate that nothing was broken. I had a torn meniscus - but all the swelling was in the ankle - so I thought I had hurt my ankle. It put a big damper on the rest of the trip - three more days - and made the trip home very uncomfortable. But it could have been so much worse!
I am very anxious to hear the rest of your story - if you had the surgery and how you got back to Amsterdam. Guess it was good you didn't have to come all the way back to the states.
I am very anxious to hear the rest of your story - if you had the surgery and how you got back to Amsterdam. Guess it was good you didn't have to come all the way back to the states.
Sep 1st, 2008, 02:49 PM
#23
Oh, what an awful thing to happen - I can only imagine how upsetting it was to have such an accident, and not be able to find your husband! Where was he?! And what did he do when he couldn't find you?
I do hope that you are feeling alright now, and that you have been able to recuperate enough to enjoy your new year. The trip report, up until the real "trip", has been a delight to read.
I can't wait to hear how things went after your hospital stay.
Paule
I do hope that you are feeling alright now, and that you have been able to recuperate enough to enjoy your new year. The trip report, up until the real "trip", has been a delight to read.
I can't wait to hear how things went after your hospital stay.
Paule
Sep 1st, 2008, 02:57 PM
#24
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Great report, NorCalif! I'm not so sure I like the "surprising twist" part of it, but most interested to hear more.
I once briskly stepped off a moving Italian train in Rome, but I don't want to hijack your story. Please tell us more about the French hospital experience.
I once briskly stepped off a moving Italian train in Rome, but I don't want to hijack your story. Please tell us more about the French hospital experience.
Sep 1st, 2008, 04:45 PM
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This makes me wince in sympathy. I have one bad ankle that has been broken once and sprained severely several times, and this is something I could sooo easily do myself - fortunately have managed not to do it when traveling (yet?).
Sep 1st, 2008, 06:31 PM
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Oy, your tale has convinced me - clumsy as I am - that it is worth the price for each of us to have a call phone when traveling.
Your style of walk-around-and-see is right in line with my own.
We are all anxiously awaiting the next installment!
Your style of walk-around-and-see is right in line with my own.
We are all anxiously awaiting the next installment!
Sep 1st, 2008, 09:28 PM
#30
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Thank you all so much for your expressions of sympathy! And I don't mind the funny remarks. Better to laugh than cry, right? (I did some of each.)
I'll try to write up the next installment right now.
I'll try to write up the next installment right now.
Sep 1st, 2008, 10:18 PM
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Chapter 6: Move over Michael Moore (I can investigate foreign healthcare too)
They took me up to my hospital room - a nice private room with private bath. (However I would NOT generally recommend this particular hotel. The décor is sterile and the staff gives you almost too much personal attention. And I mean personal.) The nurses were unbelievably kind and cheerful but communication was a real problem. I was trying to understand what was in the IV they were giving me, what the pills were they brought in, etc. You know how they always advise you to be really watchful in hospitals and ask lots of questions to avoid medication mistakes? Well it’s hard to do when you don’t speak the language! I had begged them to let my friend come in the ambulance with me and they had kindly let her, although I don’t think they were supposed to. She was a big help with the language issues – although there were still major gaps in communication as I don’t think she had ever boned up (get it?) on French medical terminology.
The anesthesiologist came in and he spoke some limited English. He told me I had broken one of the bones in my leg and ruptured a lot of ligaments (a lot? How many do I have anyway? For that matter, exactly what ARE ligaments? Do I really need them?) He said the orthopedic surgeon would have to operate and put screws in my ankle (now I’m really screwed, I guess) as it had “no stability.” He said they would operate at 8:00 AM the next morning. Oh great. Now I was scared. I have a lot of doctors in my family. I know they don’t know anything! ;->
And it had now been a couple of hours since I left the museum and I was also still frantic about my husband. My friend and I were discussing whether it made sense for her to go back to the apartment and see if DH turned up there. I could barely stand to part with her though as she was both my only known friendly face and my translator. But then, hallelujah, my cell phone rang and it was DH!
He must have missed the paging at the museum because had been outside in the gardens for a while (that’s his story anyway. I haven’t inquired at any of the nearby cafes to see if he was really whiling away the time with a carafe of wine.) After looking for me forever in the museum, he gave up and went in search of a place to buy a phone card that he could use to try to call me. He of course was not terribly worried – he just thought my friend and I were dithering around in some exhibit or other talking our heads off (uh, it’s been known to happen). He ran into all kinds of problems finding a phone card and making it work in various public phones he tried, but at last was able to make the phone card work. But evidently my cell phone (which had been going through an extremely temperamental phase) did not care to pass along the information that I was getting a call. Eventually however technology triumphed and the pay phone and my cell phone agreed to cooperate with each other for a crucial minute or two. He was of course quite distressed to learn what I had been up to. He would head for the hospital tout de suite. Thank heavens!
They took me up to my hospital room - a nice private room with private bath. (However I would NOT generally recommend this particular hotel. The décor is sterile and the staff gives you almost too much personal attention. And I mean personal.) The nurses were unbelievably kind and cheerful but communication was a real problem. I was trying to understand what was in the IV they were giving me, what the pills were they brought in, etc. You know how they always advise you to be really watchful in hospitals and ask lots of questions to avoid medication mistakes? Well it’s hard to do when you don’t speak the language! I had begged them to let my friend come in the ambulance with me and they had kindly let her, although I don’t think they were supposed to. She was a big help with the language issues – although there were still major gaps in communication as I don’t think she had ever boned up (get it?) on French medical terminology.
The anesthesiologist came in and he spoke some limited English. He told me I had broken one of the bones in my leg and ruptured a lot of ligaments (a lot? How many do I have anyway? For that matter, exactly what ARE ligaments? Do I really need them?) He said the orthopedic surgeon would have to operate and put screws in my ankle (now I’m really screwed, I guess) as it had “no stability.” He said they would operate at 8:00 AM the next morning. Oh great. Now I was scared. I have a lot of doctors in my family. I know they don’t know anything! ;->
And it had now been a couple of hours since I left the museum and I was also still frantic about my husband. My friend and I were discussing whether it made sense for her to go back to the apartment and see if DH turned up there. I could barely stand to part with her though as she was both my only known friendly face and my translator. But then, hallelujah, my cell phone rang and it was DH!
He must have missed the paging at the museum because had been outside in the gardens for a while (that’s his story anyway. I haven’t inquired at any of the nearby cafes to see if he was really whiling away the time with a carafe of wine.) After looking for me forever in the museum, he gave up and went in search of a place to buy a phone card that he could use to try to call me. He of course was not terribly worried – he just thought my friend and I were dithering around in some exhibit or other talking our heads off (uh, it’s been known to happen). He ran into all kinds of problems finding a phone card and making it work in various public phones he tried, but at last was able to make the phone card work. But evidently my cell phone (which had been going through an extremely temperamental phase) did not care to pass along the information that I was getting a call. Eventually however technology triumphed and the pay phone and my cell phone agreed to cooperate with each other for a crucial minute or two. He was of course quite distressed to learn what I had been up to. He would head for the hospital tout de suite. Thank heavens!
Sep 1st, 2008, 11:06 PM
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Chapter 7: Reunited – and it feels so good (well mostly good, except for my ankle)
DH arrived pretty quickly. It was so wonderful to see him!
They brought me a dinner, although it was after dinnertime. And I feel some national pride in reporting that French hospital food is just as execrable as US hospital food. I guess maybe their top chefs are employed elsewhere.
We asked the nurses if DH could spend the night in my room and they said yes. (I think they would have had to call security to evict him if they’d said no.) They said my surgery was going to be postponed till 2:00 PM the next day due to a big semi-emergency surgery they’d had to schedule in the morning.
We sent my friend back to the apartment and DH and I both spent a fairly uncomfortable night. He was sleeping contorted in an armchair (although we later found out we could have asked to have a cot moved into the room. Who knew?) And I was uncomfortable because I was hooked up to an IV, had to hop to the bathroom when necessary, and my ankle hurt. Although I have to say it caused me much less pain than they expected it to and I never had to take the heavy-duty pain medication they kept bringing in.
Woke up from a fitful sleep to have to just lie there and await surgery with nothing to do but worry. An area in which I am already an Olympic contender. Started to freak out more and more about the communication issues before and after surgery. Finally remembered I had taken out travel insurance for the trip over from the States that was still in force and it had a 24/7 medical assistance number. I decided to call them to see if they could recommend any Anglophone doctors in Paris that I could maybe have oversee my treatment. They recommended that I go to the American Hospital of Paris. I called the American Hospital and they said “everyone in the ER speaks English” and that they would see me if I wanted to transfer over there and they would be able to schedule surgery if necessary. Meanwhile 2:00 PM had come and gone at the hospital I was currently in, and they’d had to postpone surgery again, so I had a window of opportunity to accomplish the transfer. So I bailed on the hospital I was in and took a taxi to the American Hospital. The French hospital staff had been unfailingly kind and the surgeon and anesthesiologist seemed quite competent, I just wanted people I could talk to!
I brought my x-rays with me, so was able to see the orthopedic surgeon at the American Hospital right away. He said he didn’t think I needed surgery! You can’t believe how happy that made me! Although I still worry (see Olympic-worry-contender comment above) that I don’t have any way of knowing which opinion was the “right” one. Anyway, he slapped a cast on my leg, gave me a pair of crutches (the only thing they asked me to pay for before I left) and sent me home. Free at last!
DH arrived pretty quickly. It was so wonderful to see him!
They brought me a dinner, although it was after dinnertime. And I feel some national pride in reporting that French hospital food is just as execrable as US hospital food. I guess maybe their top chefs are employed elsewhere.
We asked the nurses if DH could spend the night in my room and they said yes. (I think they would have had to call security to evict him if they’d said no.) They said my surgery was going to be postponed till 2:00 PM the next day due to a big semi-emergency surgery they’d had to schedule in the morning.
We sent my friend back to the apartment and DH and I both spent a fairly uncomfortable night. He was sleeping contorted in an armchair (although we later found out we could have asked to have a cot moved into the room. Who knew?) And I was uncomfortable because I was hooked up to an IV, had to hop to the bathroom when necessary, and my ankle hurt. Although I have to say it caused me much less pain than they expected it to and I never had to take the heavy-duty pain medication they kept bringing in.
Woke up from a fitful sleep to have to just lie there and await surgery with nothing to do but worry. An area in which I am already an Olympic contender. Started to freak out more and more about the communication issues before and after surgery. Finally remembered I had taken out travel insurance for the trip over from the States that was still in force and it had a 24/7 medical assistance number. I decided to call them to see if they could recommend any Anglophone doctors in Paris that I could maybe have oversee my treatment. They recommended that I go to the American Hospital of Paris. I called the American Hospital and they said “everyone in the ER speaks English” and that they would see me if I wanted to transfer over there and they would be able to schedule surgery if necessary. Meanwhile 2:00 PM had come and gone at the hospital I was currently in, and they’d had to postpone surgery again, so I had a window of opportunity to accomplish the transfer. So I bailed on the hospital I was in and took a taxi to the American Hospital. The French hospital staff had been unfailingly kind and the surgeon and anesthesiologist seemed quite competent, I just wanted people I could talk to!
I brought my x-rays with me, so was able to see the orthopedic surgeon at the American Hospital right away. He said he didn’t think I needed surgery! You can’t believe how happy that made me! Although I still worry (see Olympic-worry-contender comment above) that I don’t have any way of knowing which opinion was the “right” one. Anyway, he slapped a cast on my leg, gave me a pair of crutches (the only thing they asked me to pay for before I left) and sent me home. Free at last!
Sep 1st, 2008, 11:37 PM
#34
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Wow, what an adventure!! Its always good to get a second opinion, especially one you can understand,LOL Hope it heals well.It is weird how one doctor wanted to operate and one didn't? Did the second doctor explain it to you ? Its always better not to go under anyways unless you really have to.
I do think your husband staying at the hospital was very nice, I know I wouldn't want mine there, I mean, sleeping in a chair all grumpy,, but then my hubby is 6'4" and an arm chair would not have been a good idea. He really didn't mind?? I guess he was freaked out about losing you the first time and had to keep his eye on you! LOL
I do think your husband staying at the hospital was very nice, I know I wouldn't want mine there, I mean, sleeping in a chair all grumpy,, but then my hubby is 6'4" and an arm chair would not have been a good idea. He really didn't mind?? I guess he was freaked out about losing you the first time and had to keep his eye on you! LOL
Sep 2nd, 2008, 12:23 AM
#35
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Chapter 8: Casting (!) about for help while traveling
Spent our last full day in Paris lounging about the apartment, with a 2000 pound cast (I’m pretty sure they must have used plaster of Paris. Hee hee. ) on one broken leg trying to learn to use crutches well enough that I don’t break the other one. We had tickets home to Amsterdam on the train for the next day, this past Saturday. Fortunately (for me) our friend was coming home to Amsterdam with us – we’ve been planning to explore the city together – so I would have two able-bodied people to help me navigate the train stations, etc.
Gare du Nord does have wheelchairs it turns out, although we had been told they didn’t. The wheelchair was driven by a really thoughtful young man who figured out which door of our train car was closest to our seats and was extremely helpful in getting me on the train. He clearly had experience helping people who are disabled for one reason or another. He would not even accept a tip.
We were crammed into really small seats on the train. After a while the train conductor noticed my plight, with my cast not being able to really fit in my seat, so he moved all three of us to a private compartment that had an entire wall of seats where I could lie down and prop up my leg, without us even asking. So that part of the trip was quite comfortable (may save the cast and put it on for future trips). ;->
Then the problem came. The rails in Amsterdam’s Centraal Station position the train with quite a gap between the train steps and the platform (reminded me of the Woody Allen movie where Diane Keaton parks halfway out into the street and he says, “Don’t worry. I can walk to the curb from here.”) Only I couldn’t walk to the platform from there and I, as a novice crutch user, just could not negotiate the whole step-gap-platform thing and it was too narrow for my companions to help me.
So I had to triumphantly return to my new home town by crawling, on my hands and knees, onto the platform in front of hundreds of passers-by. As I struggled back to my feet and my crutches, I caught the eye of one 20-something young man who had evidently been watching my progress with interest. He gave me the kindest, most approving smile. He seemed to be saying “Good for you!”. It made my day! Isn’t it funny how much the tiniest kindness can mean to you when you need it? He’ll never know that he is a permanent and cherished part of my memory of this whole episode. A good lesson to be kind to people, even in small ways, I guess.
So I’ve been back home in Amsterdam for two days now, not able to go anywhere really as I am not allowed to put weight on the cast or the leg, and there’s only so far I can go, holding my cast up, while on crutches. I’m supposed to have the cast on for 3 to 6 weeks. I had planned to buy a bike when we got back, to explore Amsterdam with, but that's out for the time being. So we’re looking into renting one of those scooter-things that people who have mobility issues use. Look out Amsterdam!
Spent our last full day in Paris lounging about the apartment, with a 2000 pound cast (I’m pretty sure they must have used plaster of Paris. Hee hee. ) on one broken leg trying to learn to use crutches well enough that I don’t break the other one. We had tickets home to Amsterdam on the train for the next day, this past Saturday. Fortunately (for me) our friend was coming home to Amsterdam with us – we’ve been planning to explore the city together – so I would have two able-bodied people to help me navigate the train stations, etc.
Gare du Nord does have wheelchairs it turns out, although we had been told they didn’t. The wheelchair was driven by a really thoughtful young man who figured out which door of our train car was closest to our seats and was extremely helpful in getting me on the train. He clearly had experience helping people who are disabled for one reason or another. He would not even accept a tip.
We were crammed into really small seats on the train. After a while the train conductor noticed my plight, with my cast not being able to really fit in my seat, so he moved all three of us to a private compartment that had an entire wall of seats where I could lie down and prop up my leg, without us even asking. So that part of the trip was quite comfortable (may save the cast and put it on for future trips). ;->
Then the problem came. The rails in Amsterdam’s Centraal Station position the train with quite a gap between the train steps and the platform (reminded me of the Woody Allen movie where Diane Keaton parks halfway out into the street and he says, “Don’t worry. I can walk to the curb from here.”) Only I couldn’t walk to the platform from there and I, as a novice crutch user, just could not negotiate the whole step-gap-platform thing and it was too narrow for my companions to help me.
So I had to triumphantly return to my new home town by crawling, on my hands and knees, onto the platform in front of hundreds of passers-by. As I struggled back to my feet and my crutches, I caught the eye of one 20-something young man who had evidently been watching my progress with interest. He gave me the kindest, most approving smile. He seemed to be saying “Good for you!”. It made my day! Isn’t it funny how much the tiniest kindness can mean to you when you need it? He’ll never know that he is a permanent and cherished part of my memory of this whole episode. A good lesson to be kind to people, even in small ways, I guess.
So I’ve been back home in Amsterdam for two days now, not able to go anywhere really as I am not allowed to put weight on the cast or the leg, and there’s only so far I can go, holding my cast up, while on crutches. I’m supposed to have the cast on for 3 to 6 weeks. I had planned to buy a bike when we got back, to explore Amsterdam with, but that's out for the time being. So we’re looking into renting one of those scooter-things that people who have mobility issues use. Look out Amsterdam!
Sep 2nd, 2008, 03:03 AM
#36
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I'm so sorry you had this happen - but what a lovely ending to such a stressful story! I'm incredibly clumsy, so I'm sure your information about how to find an English-speaking doctor will come in handy eventually!
Glad you made it to your new home alright - I loved Amsterdam, I'm so jealous you have a year to explore!
Glad you made it to your new home alright - I loved Amsterdam, I'm so jealous you have a year to explore!
Sep 2nd, 2008, 03:52 AM
#37
Oh my! I sincerely hope you heal well, find good medical help with whom you can communicate, and go on to enjoy this sabbatical year.
You have a public now, though, and you have to tell us how it all comes out.
You have a public now, though, and you have to tell us how it all comes out.
Sep 2nd, 2008, 06:40 AM
#38
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Well that really was a "trip report" to end all trip reports!
Have you been to see an orthopod in the Netherlands? If one doctor said I needed surgery and another said I didn't, I'd be tempted to go for a third tie-breaking opinion and to find out WHY surgery is a go/no go. And as least you're "home" so if he/she says you do need surgery, you won't be recovering far away. Excellent facilities in the NL and you'll have no trouble finding English speaking medical professionals.
Have you been to see an orthopod in the Netherlands? If one doctor said I needed surgery and another said I didn't, I'd be tempted to go for a third tie-breaking opinion and to find out WHY surgery is a go/no go. And as least you're "home" so if he/she says you do need surgery, you won't be recovering far away. Excellent facilities in the NL and you'll have no trouble finding English speaking medical professionals.
Sep 2nd, 2008, 07:08 AM
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What a great report! you are a terrific 'teller of tales'...and I thank you for sharing.
This is also a trip report I will bookmark for all those folks who scoff at the necessity of Travel Medical Insurance. Hey, it gave you that most generous of benefits in a crisis: options!
This is also a trip report I will bookmark for all those folks who scoff at the necessity of Travel Medical Insurance. Hey, it gave you that most generous of benefits in a crisis: options!
