Emergency!

Even after living in France for a year and a half, I still have occasional "first" experiences. First time eating something new, or visiting a new city, ... Yesterday afternoon, thanks to my loving (but short on luck) husband, I got to experience another first:

my first time at a French Emergency Room.

(but it certainly wasn't Philipp's first!)

It all began Saturday morning, when I decided to have a nice walk into town, to do a little shopping and check out the used book sale at the English Language Library. Philipp left the house a bit later, to do a little work at the castle.

[background for those of you who aren't aware: Philipp restores old houses. Several years ago, he bought a part of a 17th-century castle that had been separated into 15 lots. He renovated the apartment, and this is where we lived when I first moved to France. A little over a year ago, he sold that apartment, and we moved to "the little house", another property he'd restored. Last summer, he and a friend (who had also restored an apartment in the castle) decided to buy the final lot together, the only one that was still a ruin and had never been redone. After an abnormally long wait to get the building permit, they recently began work on the renovations. They will probably finish in the Autumn, then they will sell it and split the profits. When everything is settled with the castle, we will pack up our things and move to the States.]

So, anyway ... Philipp was alone at the castle on Saturday morning. He wanted to remove the boards they'd secured at the top of the new walls, put there for when they filled the concrete blocks with cement. He climbed his ladder, removed the wires they used to hold the board in place, and then climbed back down to recenter his ladder in the center of the board. He made it up three rungs of the ladder when a gust of wind pushed the board out of place and sent it crashing down. It fell on the ladder and slid down. Philipp had the chance to start climbing back down, but his right foot was still on the ladder rung when the board crashed down on it. As Philipp says, "it Guillotined my foot".

Being the "warrior" that he is, he sat down for a few minutes to get over the shock, but then finished the work he'd intended to do. He then drove over to Multi-Fun, his friend Jean-Yves' surf shop, to pick up his kitesurf board, which was being repaired. Ever the optimist, he still thought he might be able to kite-surf on Sunday.

Then Philipp picked me up at the library (I'd bought 15 books at the sale) and we headed home. He put his foot up and iced it while we ate lunch. Afterward, it wasn't looking too good, so we decided it was best to have it x-rayed, just in case.

So we hopped in the Smart and headed to the emergency room. When we arrived, our first surprise was that there was no one there to meet us and check us in. There was a sign telling us to ring the bell and have a seat in the hallway. We rang the bell, and walked into the waiting area, where we found a woman with her teenage daughter (ice on her ankle from a basketball injury) and another woman who had had x-rays, but had been there since noon and was waiting to see a doctor. It was 3:00.

At 4:00, two cleaning ladies walked down the hall, and seemed surprised to see so many people. By this time two more patients had arrived. They went in and out of the row of doors, but they didn't find anyone. This did not make us feel confident.

A little while later, a frazzled looking nurse (she told us later that it was her first day) came out and spoke with each patient, sending the basketball player and Philipp down the hall to get x-rays.

After the x-rays were taken, we headed back to the first waiting area, rang the bell again as we passed - just for good measure - and were happy to see that there was only one patient waiting.

And soon it was Philipp's turn. The frazzled nurse led us into room #5, where Philipp explained what had happened, and she put the x-rays up on the light box for the doctor. She then proceeded to fill out all the billing paperwork, because that's how it's done in France. Same thing when you go to the doctor. At the end of the consultation, you give the standard 22 euros directly to the doctor, knowing that soon, all but 1 euro of that will be reimbursed into your account.

So ... around 5:00 or so (I stopped looking at the clock) a doctor finally came in to look at the x-rays and examine Philipp. He left again, and we waited some more. During this time, some nurses wheeled a man out of the room next to ours, and I learned that in France, patients are always wheeled head first. They only lead with the feet if you're dead. It seemed odd to me, thinking of all the times I've seen people on TV being wheeled feet-first, but if the French want to do it the other way round, well, I suppose it's their perogative.

The doctor came back and looked at the x-rays some more. He decided that he didn't see a clear break, but there were two lines that might be a fracture. (This evening, in examining Philipp's work boots, we realized that one of the gromits for the laces - the one above where his foot hurts the most - has been crushed flat, and the shape is right for the two lines that we saw on the x-rays. Ouch!)

The doctor wanted to put a support shoe on Philipp, to keep the foot flat for a few days, but they only had two sizes in stock. A size 2 and a size 5, although I would call them "teeny tiny" and "pleasure craft". So that option was definitely out.

"We'll have to put a cast on. Take your pants off." Was all the doctor said.

And this leads us to the other major difference I've noticed when it comes to health care in France: we Americans are rather prudish at the doctor's. In the States, the health care professionals would never dream of staying in the same room with us while we undress. And they fully expect us to put on the flimsy paper or cotton robe, to protect our modesty and help us to feel more comfortable. Not in France! "Take your pants off." And the doctor stood there waiting, while Philipp laughed (having already discussed this topic with me) and did exactly as he was told ... took his pants off.

In truth, the cast is not a full one, but more like a rain gutter. It's only on the bottom of his foot and the back of his calf, and then the whole thing is wrapped in bandages. He also has crutches, but not like American ones. They're called "English canes" and they look like this:

So now Philipp is hobbling around the house, trying to imagine the week ahead of him, when he will not be able to work, not be able to kite surf, ... But still, he manages to smile. He really is a "warrior", even when wounded. Here's to a speedy recovery!