A Long Day!

We arrived at the hospital, the oldest and most famous in Jerusalem, Israel known as Hadassah
Ein Kerem, during the early hours of the morning and were taken straight into the Emergency
Ward area. If any of you have unfortunately spent time in an emergency room, you know how
long and tiring that can be, but in truth nothing prepared us (my daughter and myself) for what
was in fact waiting for us!

It was packed, as if being sick was something that you receive a financial prize for, by the amount of guests that were visiting there. Every age, possible ailment, fracture,[pain was waiting anxiously for attention, support and help.

Our day started off patiently waiting to see the doctor, then the orthopedic specialist, then
to have an x ray, plaster and finally finding a bed to check into. It was difficult and I could not
have endured that day as well as the ones to come, without the help of my daughter, who left
her baby and husband and stayed by my side the whole time.

There is no question that being in a hospital is frightening, for you are surrounded by people who are in great pain, suffering both noisily and quietly and the staff, is rushed and trying to help,\
although at times impatient. It is hard when you are involved to understand both sides, because
the patient is uncomfortable, lying on a bed not meant for long stay, scared, in pain, wants a
solution on the spot and on the other hand the doctors are rushed, willing to administer pain
relief, but constantly awaiting results either of blood tests, x rays, scans or whatever.

Of course having broken my leg in Beijing and being rushed emergency helped add to my
celebrity status, but did nothing to push me forward on the list and a day was spent unwilling
to eat or drink as I was convinced that I would be rushed for emergency surgery. Finally, in
the late afternoon, an orthopedic surgeon, with little or almost non existent knowledge of Hebrew or English came to visit me. He informed me that surgery would need to be performed
but that first my leg would have to be reset as it had been set badly in China. When he took me
to the plaster room, I adamantly refused to allow them to touch it if I was not under anaesthetic
which I was later informed they would not have done anyway as the setting was too bad to touch
whilst I was awake and finally in the evening hours I was admitted to the Neurological ward.

This was such a sad place, but in truth it was quiet and after the commotion and noise of the
emergency room, a relief. I was still dressed in the clothes that I had fallen in of the previous
day and desperately wanted to have a wash and refresh myself, but this was not to be. The
staff was kind and tried to make me comfortable, even though they admitted that they were
not equipped to deal with a break or fracture. That night a sign was hung on my bed saying
FAST as I was to be operated on early the next morning.

The following day, which was Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, is not a day that is usually set aside
for operations, as it is supposed to be a day of rest and the hospital is short staffed, though
Sunday is an ordinary working day once again. But, I was given to understand that this was
now an emergency (according to the x ray) as the bones were already starting to set, wrongly
and almost 48 hours had passed. Scared to be alone, I begged them to wait for the re-arrival
of my daughter and was taken to the theatre. There was no one there except me, the waiting
area quiet and still, with no bustle of nursing staff or doctors and I the only awaiting patient.

If you have never been through an anesthesia or operation before, it is hard to describe your trepidation at it is happening. In the past I had been put to sleep through dental surgery, but
this was different. Thankfully my daughter arrived in time, quick kiss and hug and I was
whisked off to the next stage.