My London "Sicko" story

Earlier in the week, I hurt my back again. (I wish I had been doing something exciting when it happened, but all I did was reach for a book while I was lying in bed. I either felt something pop or just spasm, I can't really remember what. All I know is that I hurt. I popped some Ibu and did my back stretches and it was manageable.

Everything was not pleasant, but dealable and getting better. Until Saturday. It got worse and nothing was making it any better. Getting off the bed almost brought me to my knees. The pain helped make up my mind, I decided that I had to go to the doctor. I got the pullover on, put my stuff in my pockets and reached for the door. A spasm hit and I collapsed.

I couldn't walk. Hell, I couldn't even get to a kneeling position. Five minutes quickly became twenty and the pain hadn't gotten any better. I slowly made my way from my stomach to my back. I could reach my cell, but didn't have anyone to call other than an ambulance. The problem was that they wouldn't be able to get to me, because the front door to the flat was locked.

It took a half hour, but I got shoes on. (Well, Tevas, but let's be generous. At the time, it felt epic.) Then the long slow crawl to the closed door of my bedroom. Stretch, spasm, collapse, repeat. At some point, I realized that if I forced myself not to collapse during the spasm, I'd make slightly better time.

Out in the hall, the slippery wooden floor meant than I made a little better time as a human Swiffer across the floor. About an hour later, I was at the front door to the flat. Unfortunately, there I couldn't reach the lock from the floor. I was going to have to get to my feet. Getting my feet under me didn't work. Pushing my torso up, while trying not to bend my back was not happening. Finally, I got the idea to try to use the corner to get to my knees or my feet, so I could reach the lock. A door to my back didn't work; the door wobbled slightly, which set my back spasming even worse than before. I wormed my way back to a corner, where both were walls. It took forever—false starts where I couldn't get past the pain, then I finally got my legs beneath me and pushed up against the wall and stumbled off of it to stumble toward the door.

By this point, my back was spasming so badly that I had to lean against wall to keep from falling again. I couldn't even lift my arms without agonizing pain. I had come too far to just collapse and have to start all over again. After what felt like forever, I toddled to the door and was able to unlock it. Breathing rapidly to try to keep the pain down, I got the door locked and stumbled down the hall to get outside.

Once I was outside, I dialed 911 to get an ambulance or something. There was no way that I'd be able to make it to a place where I could find a cab; I needed the wall to even stand. I let out a groan and a young girl must have taken that as a dirty bastard moan or something and rushed inside.

In London, 911 doesn't work. I called my cell phone company's customer service line to find that you need to dial 999 here in the UK. I said I needed an ambulance and they redirected me to the ambulance service. They took my information, though I had to tell them my address three times—I can only imagine that my Boston accent must be indecipherable to her.

The wait for the ambulance felt like forever. (Now, anyone that knows me knows that I hate cats and clearly they hate me. A local outdoor cat made a bee-line toward me. Clearly, it's nemesis-sense was tingling and it could tell that I wasn't going to be able to shoo it away. It took this opportunity to rub against me and use my jean-clad leg as a scratching post.)

Finally, the ambulance showed up and the two EMTs helped me inside. At this point, things moved much quicker. It was a rush of taking my vitals, giving me an inhaled analgesic that made me light-headed, giving the EMT my history to expedite my entry into the hospital.

I wasn't in danger of dying. They quickly verified that it wasn't a kidney stone or appendicitis and moved me from emergency to minor wounds/problems. A nurse checked me out and gave me something for pain and told me to walk a bit while they waited for the pain meds to kick in. I don't think I was there for than twenty, thirty minutes on the outside, before I saw a doctor and was treated.

It didn't take him long before he realized that it was back spasm in my lower trapezius and not my spine. He said what I expected: pain meds and muscle relaxants, back exercises to stretch things out. Instead of a prescription, I got handed the pills I need. I had my Sicko moment, when I wondered about payment. There was no cost for the ambulance or the hospital visit. I even got looked at funny, when I asked about that.

The only thing I had to worry about was my cab ride home from the hospital and then the pizza that I ordered, because all my pills needed to be taken with food. At the moment, I'm on the mend and hoping to be mobile in a few more days/weeks.