It Bloody Well Serves You Right

The same year Elmo was stolen I  had a “freshman drunken injury”. The reason I’m telling this is because the events that took place following my fall are quite fantastic (in hindsight of course). Let’s just say that the outcome of this fiasco was me getting kicked out of the campus urgent care for being a smartass to the doctor on call which led to me not being properly treated for my broken foot.

It all started when a bunch of us girls decided to go off campus to a party at a friend’s house. We went over there to play cards and I ended up getting waaaay too intoxicated.  There was a point in the evening when I remember that every time I made a noise of any kind (talking, coughing, sniffing etc…) I had to take a drink of whatever I was drinking.

This was  obviously not the smartest thing I have ever done but college makes you do really stupid things in the name of fun. I don’t regret much in my life but I do wish I could take this night back.

After the party my roommate and I headed back to the dorms to go to bed. We both had our beds in a lofted position with one ladder that led to both. I had to cross over into her bed to get up and down the ladder.

As soon as we settled into bed and someone knocked on the door. My roommate refused to answer it so I did (this was the regret part). According to her I didn’t even make it onto the first rung of the ladder. I did however,  go down it. But not with my feet. I remember plunging to the floor taking everything I could get my hands on with me including an alarm clock a fan and some pillows.

I did land on my feet. Well, one foot actually. The side of one foot. I remember laying there thinking to myself something was wrong with my foot but all I could focus on was the broken fan spinning near my ear and how I could potentially be hurt by it.  I managed to get up and hop to the door to answer it and seeing my friend walking down the hall. I yelled to him to come back and help me but he said he was tired.

I finally convinced my roommate to get down from bed to assess the situation. She was yelling at me telling me to just go to bed but I couldn’t. She finally gets down and says “MOVE YOUR TOES”,  “SARA! MOVE YOUR TOES!”. I yelled back “I AM!!!”. I guess they weren’t moving because she said “I think we need to go to the hospital”.

I met my roommate about a week before school started.  She was from Montana and was the scariest person I had ever met (of course that’s not saying much since I grew up in green bay and the scariest person there was the lunch lady from grade school).  She was one of the top shot put and discus throwers in the state. She was also probably the strongest girl i had ever met. I say this because without her carrying me half a mile across campus on her shoulders in the middle of winter I would have been in real trouble. She even fell on the ice once and managed to not let go of me.

We get to the campus hospital around 3 am and I am sobering up a little and starting to feel the pain yet still drunk enough to be a total pain in the ass to the doctor. I don’t know why I felt the need to give him such a hard time. I take that back.  I do know why.  It’s because I was obviously drunk and he asked me how much I had to drink that night. I was annoyed because I assumed it was obvious by my behavior that I had more than I should have. I became so obnoxious at one point that he had to separate me from the rest of the patients that were staying there. He left the room at one point and when he came back in I yelled “what’s up fucker!” as loud as I could. Of course my roommate and I thought it was hilarious.  He definitely punished me for it.

Fed up and obviously not concerned with my overall health the doctor sent me home with a very tight ace bandage wrapped around my foot. He told me there was nothing he could do and since I had so much to drink he couldn’t give me any pain medication.  When we got back to the dorms it was about 4 in the morning and I remember a bunch of people in our room trying to figure out how they were going to get me up into my lofted bed.  Even out 4 foot tall RA was there adding her words of wisdom.  I can’t remember how I got up there but someone must have hoisted me in. 

It’s always difficult waking up in the morning after a long night of drinking. Even more difficult with an untreated broken foot. The doctor had wrapped my foot so tightly that it had swelled around the bandage. I took the bandage off and my entire foot was blue. Not. Good.

We decided it was probably a good idea to go to the ER and have it x-rayed. I knew it was broken. I think I have broken at least 10 bones in my body and I know the look of a broken bone and certainly know the feeling.

I ended up with a walking cast and crutches for the next 8 weeks. Did I mention it was the middle of winter? Crutches on ice are incredibly embarrassing not to mention useless. I recall some “friends” enjoying stealing my crutches and throwing snowballs at me.

The worst part was having to fly home for Thanksgiving and having to explain to my entire family what happened. I thought about making up a nicer story but I’ve never been very good at lying so I just stuck with the truth. Most of the family thought it was pretty funny except for my mother.  My mother, with her English accent, said something to the effect of,  “it bloody well serves you right” and still says that to me when I bring it up.  I bet she will say it when she reads this.

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