Despair Sets In

For a person who is aiming so hard to always 'keep it together' it came as a terrible and immense
shock to suddenly find myself whisked out of the environment that I had built for myself over the past 8 months, had been taken away and I now found myself lying in a hospital bed, in an
orthopedic ward, unable to get up alone, feeling helpless and traumatized.

I was afraid to fall asleep, this was not because of the operation and side effect of the anesthesia,
but a constant reliving of my fall and lying alone on the cold floor unable to secure contact with
anyone! Every time I closed my eyes I could envision the state of my foot after my fall, and that
totally freaked me out! Even with constant reassurances that it was over, it in fact took me almost two weeks to finally be able to blot that picture out of my mind.

The hospital itself is building new premises that will be finished in two years, but for the present
the building itself, although equipped with all the top facilities, is inadequate to hold the population of Jerusalem and its surroundings today. The orthopedic ward has two departments
and a number of rooms, but only one room that is reserved only for women!! This seems
totally ridiculous and chauvanistic, as if to say that only fractures are reserved for the male
species, but as we know, unfortunately, falls are common in the elderly and in time my ward
of 5, would have 2 and 3 ladies of the golden age in it!!

The ward was square, with 2 beds lining the walls on either side and one placed centrally
in front of the window that led to an open balcony. This particular bed was set facing the
door and had little or no privacy allocated to it. Each bed had its own set of surrounding
curtains, a bedside table, plastic chair for visitors and a large wooden armed comfortable chair,
for day use by the patient. The pieces of furniture were placed side by side next to the bed
so that there was adequate room for visitors and patient not to feel claustrophobic, but the
centre one, was not awared this luxury, and except for the bed itself, each piece was placed
like a train, one in front of the other, making it squashy and uncomfortable both for visitor and
patient alike.

The centre bed also faced the open door of the ward and when the curtains would be closed,
it became such a small area, that it was stuffy and humid, so forcing the person to reopen the
drapes, only to become a central television for all those passing by. This was to be my home
for the next few days. Added to this discomfort was the fact that I felt so alone. I had no
telephone (I had left my Israeli phone in China), not adequate toiletries, nighties or way to
contact anyone to tell them that I was in Israel and my wonderful daughter was forced to
rush back and forth trying to keep my spirits up whilst I was lying there in a state of despair
and misery.

I must explain that it was not my predicament of my leg that bothered me so bad, as to the
fact that I felt so disorientated and cut off. On top of that the conditions and placement of my
bed did nothing to help. In my ward on my right was an elderly woman, who was constantly
surrounded by her curtains and only moaning could be heard. In the next bed, was a religious
woman, who had a large number of children, grandchildren and an unbelievable 103 great
grandchildren, so her bed was constantly an activity of visitors and noise.

To my left was a young soldier that was recovering from an accidental self inflicted bullet wound that was surrounded by family and friends 24/7 that was wonderful for her, but their constant
boisterous behavior was constantly pushing into my limited space to the point that I felt that
if the plastic chair, armchair, bedside table would be all placed on my bed, I would be better
off lying on top of them, I would probably have more room to breathe, as well as space to move.

As for my last room occupant, she was a little older than myself, had hurt her knee and was
in constant pain and a non stop stream of complaint. She had taken a surgeon privately to
undertake her operation and the nurses, even though more often than not, unwilling, paid
attention to her needs, more than to others, because of her connection.

As for myself, I was miserable, sad, exposed and weepy, I found myself in a situation not of my
choosing, unable to rectify my position and unable to control the flow of tears at my lack of
privacy.

The next day I was to meet the doctor and I was waiting to see what news that would bring.