Broken Ted

Outside the flat, Friday evening, after walking home from work I see Ted at the front door, struggling with the key...

A-L: Hi Ted. Are you ok? Why are you having trouble opening the door?

Ted (if he could speak fluent English): I have a gaping wound on my left thumb because the glass panelled door to my bedroom came off its tracks and fell towards me and sliced my thumb open.

Ted: Nothing. I am ok.

A-L: Ted, there's blood everywhere. Your thumb looks awful. We're going to the hospital.

Ted: No.

A-L: Yes, we're going to the hospital.

Ted: NO!

A-L: Umm, I'm in charge of you. Your mom said so. It's not your decision. We're going to the hospital. And, you're getting blood everywhere. Don't get blood on Kitty. She's Dry Clean Only.

Ted: No.

A-L: Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready to go.

Ted: No.

Justyna and Chris (whose Polish name I can't spell) walk in. Justyna had been looking for Ted, who fled the scene when there were threats of going to the hospital. Chris had bandages with him.

Half an hour later, at Western General Hospital...

Paramedic: Hello, please come this way.

Chris, Ted and I walk over.

Paramedic: Um, do I need all three of you?

A-L: Yes. Ted doesn't speak English fluently, so Chris can translate into Polish, and I'm in charge.

Paramedic (to Ted): Where did this happen?

Ted: Polish.

Raucous laughter from Chris and A-L.

A-L: At our flat.

Paramedic (still making eye contact only with Ted): Are you allergic to any medication?

Ted: 32 years old.

More raucous laughter.

Chris translates, and it turns out Ted's severely allergic to bees. Or wasps. Which aren't strictly a 'medication' as such, but it's handy to know.

Two x-rays later, the verdict is there's no glass embedded in his hand. And then we all get a lesson in tendons (Ted's might be 'nicked', to quote the paramedic), and find out we have to go to the Royal Infirmary, where a hand specialist can look at it.

Chris explains this to Ted, who doesn't want to go to the Royal Infirmary. He doesn't want stitches. He doesn't want to miss work. Ted's on a temporary contract, and doesn't get paid for sick leave. We tell the paramedic that Ted is refusing. So he brings out a book that shows the tendon. And then tells us he's booked a taxi to take us there. The NHS is paying for the taxi. Chris tells Ted this news. And suddenly, Ted's fine with having to go to the Royal Infirmary.

Ted: Taxi, free?

More raucous laughter.

The waiting room at Accident & Emergency at the Royal Infirmary is full. Good thing I brought magazines. And an apple, which the three of us share. Two hours later, Dr. Zoe calls us through. Which leads to more explanations about why Ted has two 'minders' with him: Chris, who can helpfully translate into Polish, and then back to English, and A-L, who can loudly repeat what Dr. Zoe and/or Chris said.

Dr. Z numbs Ted's thumb, digs around a bit, and then calls for a second opinion from another doctor (who subsequently poked himself in the thumb with a needle, "for the first time in my career" - not while tending to Ted - but that's a whole new post), and then another doctor. They decide someone from 'ortho' needs to look at it. Or someone from 'plastics'. So Dr. Z walks out of the room.

Ted: Can we go?

More raucous laughter.

A-L: Ted, one more doctor.

So I divide my time eavesdropping on the 'situation' in the partition to the left of Ted's, where two policeman are questioning a man; the partition on the right of Ted's, where a girl with a 'strained muscle' is wasting the doctor's time, the NHS's money, and depriving someone who's really hurt of a room, because she wants crutches (she ends up being able to walk out of the hospital, unaided); and the doctor's station across from Ted, where the fumbly doctor who accidentally anesthetized his own thumb is on the phone explaining what happened.

And then Dr. Z reappears, doesn't mention the doctor from 'ortho' or 'plastics' who never showed up, and sets about fixing Ted's hand.

Three taxi rides, one apple, two magazines, two x-rays, four medical personnel (one now with a numb thumb), and nine stitches later, we're back at home. And this morning, Ted got up and went to work.