Story time - How I Broke my Ankle (part 2)

Anyways, the story. I broke my leg doing laundry. It was December and I was starting the exam period after my third year of University. With 5 hours until my first exam, I decided I had studied enough and just needed to do something to take my mind off it. Something like laundry.

I was living in Fairview residence at UBC at the time and you had to go outside to get the laundry facilities. I piled up my laundry, put it in the basket and headed out.

Unfortunately, I made the decision to check my laundry card balance before, which means I had to walk along this path behind the complex. And being December in Vancouver and it had snowed in November, there was ice on the sidewalk. Not a lot, but I was 21 and I figured I could handle going over the odd chunk.

Nope. One slip, I heard two quick snaps in my foot (which apparently was the sound of an ankle exploding) and the basket went up and the clothes everywhere.

Now, a normal person would panic, but not me. I didn't panic because I had a cell phone. Finally, I was actually going to use my phone in an emergency, which is what I always told my mother was the reason I needed one. I dial 9-1-1 and I get somebody who thinks she's having a bad day.

“9-1-1, what?”

I start strong: “Yes, operator. I just fell down on some ice, and pretty sure I just broke my leg. I need an ambulance right away.”

“Alright, sir, where are you?”

“On the ground.” It's reassuring to know, that even when I'm in intense pain and going into shock, I'm still capable of being a smart ass.

“I'm at UBC, on the road behind Fairview Residence. It's just off of Westbrook Mall.”

Deep sigh. “What the cross-street, sir?”

“The what?”

“The cross-street, sir. I need the cross-street to send an ambulance.”

“I'm not at a cross-street. I'm on a sidewalk and I can't see the sign, it's too far away.”

“Well, can you get closer to the sign?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. I'll just get up and, oh wait, that's right. MY ANKLE IS BROKEN.” Again, the smart ass is alive and well.

About this time, a passerby comes by and helps me out. Very nice girl. She takes the phone and deals with the ambulance people for me and helps me collect my laundry, etc. She was told the ambulance would be 20 minutes, tops. She had an exam to rush to, so I sat there waiting.

Eventually someone from the residence office comes out and hangs out with me. First aid says that you shouldn't more someone with a broken limb so I stayed where I was. It was only going to be 20 minutes, I can do that.

Three hours pass while I sit on the frozen ground.

Somebody finally comes for me: a firetruck (not kidding, a real firetruck).

Apparently, the BC ambulance service, being the well-funded and well-staffed organization it is, decided that, on a Wednesday in December, the City of Vancouver only needed one ambulance on duty. That's right, one ambulance. 750,000 people, any of whom could fall ill at any moment and one ambulance. And because I happened to break my ankle during the same time as 2 car accidents, I got a firetruck.

The firemen were nice enough, though. Confused as to why they were sent out, but nice (one of them joked about throwing me into a tree, just so they could use the truck's ladder to get me down). They did the first aid thing, gave me oxygen, checked my vitals, told me I wasn't going to die (probably). They finally got a call to go do real firemen stuff, but luckily, the one ambulance was en route. Great.

I watched three big firemen guys get back into their truck and drive away. A half-hour later, the ambulance arrives and two women get out. Now, there's nothing wrong with female paramedics, but it was a problem that both were under 5 feet tall and probably weighed under 100 lbs apiece. I'm 6'0 and, at the time, 195 lbs.

So after lifting my own ass into their ambulance, they take me to the hospital, finally, after 4 hours. I called my professor from the ambulance (for the exam that had just missed) and had my room-mate collect my laundry. Usually this is where the story would usually end with a “And I lived happily ever after,” but this is one of my stories.

The hospital they took me to was UBC Hospital. From where I sat, for 4 hours, that desolate spot behind the complex, I could see only one building beyond Fairview. It was UBC Hospital. The ambulance ride was one minute, forty-five seconds long (yes, I timed it).

And it cost me $65.

Thank you BC Ambulance service.

Francis Brian Shaw

Thought for the day:
I've always thought my worst quality was my inability to make a decision and stick to it. No wait, that's not it...