[at-l] Part 4 of "Derailed at Blue Mountain" - aka as the story of Robert's broken wrist

[RET33@PRODIGY.NET (Robert Tomlinson)]

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Derailed at Blue Mountain - by Robert Tomlinson  (part four - parts one, tw=
o and three are reprinted below)

After ER nurse Donny had removed the electronic sensors glued to hairier pa=
rts of my torso (ouch), he left for other duties and I thought I had seen t=
he last of him. But now I saw him in the hall outside my ER room. He leaned=
 through the doorway and said, "I guess you might need a ride. I get off at=
 7PM if you need me to take you somewhere." That sounded great to me, even =
though I had no idea where I would go. Donny continued, "The cafeteria down=
stairs is pretty good if you want something." It suddenly dawned on me that=
 I had not eaten anything since my freeze-dried eggs that morning at Blue M=
ountain Shelter, which seemed like another time zone and even another world=
 from where I was right then. "Do you need any money?" offered Donny. No, b=
ut thanks - gee, I can't even imagine getting that offer in south Florida.
I headed on down to the hospital cafeteria. Good thing I had not dawdled, i=
t closed in five minutes. And now I was to get a taste of my new left-hande=
d life. Everything from picking up the tray to getting my wallet out of my =
back pocket to pay was a struggle. And once I sat down with my meal, I real=
ized that I was going to need help to open my twist-top soda bottle. I walk=
ed over to a table of hospital employees - one of them knew right away what=
 I needed and opened the bottle, without even a pause in their conversation=
. I was glad the cafeteria was mostly empty - although I would eventually g=
et pretty good at it, that first left handed encounter with a fork, knife a=
nd spoon was not pretty, I am sure. But the food tasted good, and I even we=
nt back for some dessert, which one of the employees behind the counter, no=
w cleaning up the closed cafeteria, was glad to get for me, especially afte=
r I shared my story with her.

As I sat there in the cafeteria, I began to think about Greg and the others=
 in my hiking group, who I presumed were still on the trail. That morning, =
which still seemed so long ago, when I had hitchhiked out of Unicoi Gap in =
search of a hospital, Greg asked me to leave a message on his cell phone la=
ter as to my status, for him to retrieve when he had adequate reception. I =
had intended to do that, but now I realized that I did not have Greg's cell=
 phone number with me. So that would have to wait, although I was also anxi=
ous to know how they were doing.

After eating, I went upstairs and sat for a few minutes in the waiting room=
. Donny soon showed up, ready to leave. I knew nothing about the town, so I=
 asked him to just take me "someplace where I can get a reasonably priced r=
oom with walking distance of a restaurant". After driving just a few minute=
s, we came to old downtown Blairsville, complete with historic-looking cour=
thouse and chiming clock tower. Donny pulled into the nearby parking lot of=
 what appeared to be a standard "Mom and Pop" establishment - the "Seasons =
Motel". I expected he would just drop me off there, but as I got out of the=
 car Donny said "I had better go in with you - sometimes people like to tak=
e advantage of needy tourists, if you know what I mean".

We walked into the lobby, Donny carrying my pack. There was a young lady at=
 the counter and Donny introduced himself, making it clear he was a local, =
and said "My friend here needs a room - what can you do for him?" She seeme=
d to hesitate for a minute, looking at Donny with my pack and then at me wi=
th my arm in a cast, and then she said "I like to give hikers a break but t=
he Sorghum Festival is this weekend and we are almost sold out now and we w=
ill be by tomorrow. How long do you need to stay?" I told her that I expect=
ed to leave by Friday and she said, "Well, I can give you the room for $40 =
tonight and $50 tomorrow night." Sounded good, at least by South Florida st=
andards, so I said OK. She slid a registration card to me across the desk -=
 Donny reached for it and said, "Here - let me do that for you". I was save=
d from trying to write left handed, at least for now.

Donny walked with me to my second floor room and put my pack inside. He and=
 I quickly looked around the room to see that everything was OK, then Donny=
 shook my good left hand, wished me well, and he was gone. And I realized t=
hat I was truly alone and on my own for the first time since I broke my wri=
st that morning.

My thoughts immediately went to trying to get in touch with my wife Denise =
- blissfully unaware of the day's events - or with my hiking companions, st=
ill on the trail. And I needed to call my mother, because I had planned to =
pick up a rental car at the conclusion of this hike and go see her in Virgi=
nia, but driving was out of the question for me now. Denise was in the midd=
le of our normal Wednesday night church routine, so I could not even hope t=
o get in contact with her until after choir practice, around 10PM, and it w=
as only about 8PM at that point. I could not call my mother until after I s=
poke to Denise, just in case my mother was to talk to Denise before I did. =
I did not have Greg's cell phone number with me and for the same reason I c=
ouldn't call my mother before talking to Denise, I could not call anyone el=
se that we knew for Greg's cell phone number, until after I broke this news=
 to Denise.

It looked like I would not be in touch with the outside world for a couple =
of hours at least, but then it dawned on me that Greg might be trying to ca=
ll me on my cell phone. It had been off the entire day in order to conserve=
 battery power, so I turned it on and sure enough, there was a voicemail wa=
iting for me.

It was Greg - "Hello, Robert - I hope everything is going OK - It's about 7=
:30PM and I just got to Whitley Gap trail shelter." Darn - I had just misse=
d his call. After hiking 2.5 miles with me back to the road after my injury=
, he had turned around and covered about 15 miles in 8 hours - not bad, esp=
ecially on a mountain trail in the cold and rain.

Greg's message continued, "I never was able to find Noel and the others. Th=
e weather is crummy - it's freezing cold here and it has been raining all d=
ay. There's nobody else here. It's very dark, so I guess I will just sleep =
here and look for them in the morning. Give me a call when you can."

As Greg signed off, I shouted back into the phone - "Greg, wait - leave you=
r cell phone number!" No luck. I was glad to hear that Greg was OK, but whe=
re was the rest of the group? It dawned on me that I had Noel's cell phone =
number with me, so I immediately called it. No answer, but I left a message=
 anyway letting him know what Greg had said.

More questions flooded my mind. Not only where was Noel, but did he ever fi=
nd the others? Noel was carrying at least part of the food and shelter for =
the others, as well as the stove and water pump. My fire starter sticks had=
 come in so handy for our first few days in that wet weather, but now I rea=
lized that I had forgotten to leave them behind when I left the trail. How =
wet, cold and/or hungry were they and would they all be OK during the night=
, especially as the temperatures dropped? Or worse, had someone else been i=
njured?

To be continued .....................



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Derailed at Blue Mountain - by Robert Tomlinson  (parts one, two and three =
are reprinted below)

October 9, 2002 - 9AM. It had been a great backpacking trip so far - we had=
 covered almost twenty miles over two and one half days, with two and one h=
alf days to go. Much rainier than we had experienced in previous trips, but=
 really nothing too bad. But as we left Blue Mountain Shelter that morning,=
 continuing south on the AT, it was very foggy and I noticed that the groun=
d was pretty wet. Two of the group had already gone ahead - Bette and her s=
on Tom - expecting to be the slowest and wanting a head start on what was t=
o be our longest hiking day. Then us remaining three, with me in the lead a=
nd Greg and Noel, our strongest hikers, right behind.

We expected just a little bit of downhill at the start of the day and then =
were looking forward to an extended section of fairly even terrain, which h=
ad been a bit of a rarity so far in this trip. As I eagerly hit the trail a=
nd headed down, Greg remarked that I was obviously eager to tackle the day =
and jokingly called me "a horse". About one hundred yards down, I passed th=
e little water source that we had nicknamed the Golden Arches, after the cr=
ossed trees that marked the spot. I remember thinking that after that point=
 the trail looked like it dropped off steeply, but as I got closer it seeme=
d to be just an optical illusion caused by some boulders in the middle of t=
he trail, that weren't really that tall but obscured the continuing trail f=
rom the angle I was standing. I stepped on the boulders and before I knew i=
t I was sliding feet first - I was going down and put my right arm out behi=
nd me to stop the fall. Other than being a little embarrassed, this did not=
 seem to be that bad a fall - just down on my butt like I had done more tha=
n a few times before. I then felt a little pain from the heel of my right h=
and and realized it had hit the rocks - I'm not sure my butt even actually =
hit the ground. At first when I inspected my right arm and hand, nothing ap=
peared to be unusual. But when I turned my hand over - palm up - it was ben=
t very strangely, causing part of the wrinkled area where the arm connects =
to the hand to almost disappear. I also realized that my fingers were in a =
half-closed claw and would not open further.

I never had a broken bone in my 45 years, but I instantly knew what this wa=
s and what it meant. I looked up the trail to see first Greg and then Noel =
behind him, coming down the trail behind me. I said "Guys, I broke my wrist=
" and I remember Noel saying "no", as in "you must be mistaken". Greg by th=
is time was standing still, watching me from the top of the not-very-tall r=
ocks I had just slid down. And before he could say much, he started to slid=
e down those rocks also, but caught himself without falling.

The guys went into action, taking my pack the rest of the way off and Noel =
insisting I take some Advil he offered me with a swig of my Gatorade, as we=
ll as to put on my jacket. I remembered that I had a long gauze strip banda=
ge in my pack (which I debated every trip as to whether I should take or no=
t), but not exactly where. After a couple of misdirections by me, Greg fina=
lly found it and started to wrap my wrist - Noel came up with some duct tap=
e to finish off the job. By now, I was a little woozy and a little panicked=
 but not much and thankfully it stayed under control.

Then we started to strategize, at first excitedly but quickly settling down=
 into a rational discussion. After we quickly considered our options, it be=
came clear that our best bet was getting me to the main highway we had cros=
sed the day before at Unicoi Gap, about 2.5 miles back up the trail. Althou=
gh this might not seem that close to some, we had not been that close to a =
highway for most of our trip so far and would not cross the next main road =
for another two days. Most of the way back was downhill, but it was steep (=
from about 4000 feet down to less than 3000 feet), wet and slippery just li=
ke the terrain we were standing on - so, as has been well said before, I wa=
s not out of the woods yet.

Here's the amazing part. As I was deciding whether to try to carry my pack =
out or just leave it at the shelter with a note, Greg said that he would ca=
rry my pack out, and his too. That was a total of 60 pounds and an addition=
al 5 miles of strenuous hiking added to Greg's already long day. My Kelty p=
ack has an external frame, so Noel and Greg lashed Greg's frameless "Go Lit=
e" pack to the top of mine, sideways. Noel and Greg agreed that Noel was to=
 hike ahead, brief the rest of the party what had happened and stay with th=
em until Greg caught back up, hopefully at that night's camp, which to comp=
licate matters was not yet decided but had only been narrowed down to a few=
 options. But it was important that Noel continue on, since he was carrying=
 food and equipment that he was sharing with the other two. Also, since we =
had learned a hard lesson about the treacherous terrain, it was important t=
o pass that on also.

Greg hoisted my pack, with his pack now lashed on top, and we were off. Lea=
ding the way, and cradling my bad hand with my good, I carried only my Gato=
rade bottle and, for some reason, Greg's water canteen. At first the trail =
went back uphill, and then was fairly level for a bit. Then began the relen=
tless rocky and wet downhill, heading down to Unicoi Gap. Watching every st=
ep, I picked my way down the trail, worried that I might fall again, or eve=
n worse that Greg might fall and wipe us both out. I never was in shock, bu=
t the injury throbbed pretty badly sometimes and I felt mildly nauseous or =
lightheaded almost all the way down. We chatted some, but mostly just watch=
ed our footing on the trail. Greg was talking about staying with me even af=
ter we reached the road, but I told him that I had no problem with continui=
ng on by myself and that I was sure I would be able to hitch a ride to a ho=
spital fairly fast in my obvious condition.

In less than two hours, and with no further mishaps, we were at the bottom =
of the mountain and standing by the road (Highway 75). We crossed over to r=
echeck the directions to the nearest hospital, printed on a sign in the par=
king area. I had remembered reading these directions, along with the other =
information on the sign, in some abstract theoretical way when we had cross=
ed through there the day before. Now reading with new interest, I try to fo=
cus on the directions so that I can relate them to whatever hapless strange=
r I wind up getting a ride with. There are too many roads, numbers, and dis=
tances, so I condense them in my mind as "go into Helen, take the road nort=
h to Hiawassee, and then go 11 miles west on Highway 76 to Townes Hospital"=
.



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-----


By now, I had suddenly lost my confidence about hitching a ride and so had =
asked Greg to get out his cell phone and either call 911 or the sheriff's e=
mergency number posted on the sign. While he was doing this, a friendly loo=
king fifty-something fellow drove up, rolled down his window, and said some=
thing along the lines of "you guys sure picked a day to go hiking", alludin=
g to the wet and rainy weather. He started to tell us of his hiking plans, =
now aborted by the weather, but I was not interested in small talk and so I=
 interrupted with "I have a broken wrist - can you take me to the hospital?=
" At first, he was concerned as to whether there was room in his car, fille=
d with hiking gear, but when I said it would just be me going, he agreed. T=
urns out he was a fellow Floridian, working for a screen/pool enclosure com=
pany in Naples. Greg threw my pack in the guy's trunk and after I rather im=
patiently waited through a bit more of their hiking chitchat, we were ready=
 to go. I gave Greg a hug and croaked out a "thanks", but was too choked up=
 and teary to say more - after all, he had done a lot for me. Then the newl=
y drafted trail angel and I drove off, leaving Greg to start his now very l=
ong and very alone hike to catch back up with the others.


I recited my version of the directions to the hospital and based on that th=
e trail angel took off towards Unicoi, but after about thirty seconds he sa=
id "You don't want to go this way to Hiawassee, you want to go the other wa=
y!" He made a U-turn - we headed back the way we came, past Greg, already o=
ccupied with packing up and didn't see us. Mister trail angel said he had j=
ust been in Hiawassee, so I wasn't worried - at least not too much. He carr=
ied most of the conversational ball, which I was grateful for - I was too p=
reoccupied with planning my next move, and yes, worrying a little bit if we=
 were going the right direction. Pretty soon we hit Highway 76, so based on=
 what I remembered from the sign at Unicoi Gap we turned left (west), but i=
nstead of 11 miles we started seeing blue hospital signs within one mile an=
d shortly after that the signs led us to "Chatuge Regional Hospital", with =
a big Emergency Room sign. I asked my trail angel to wait while I went insi=
de to check it out. He agreed so I jumped out of the car and ran in. By now=
, it was about 11:30AM, two and one-half hours after my injury.

I went up to the front desk and explained my problem and the lady said yes,=
 we have an emergency room, but we don't have an orthopedic doctor here and=
 so can't do anything about broken bones. Well, where can they help me? Wel=
l, you would probably have to go to Murphy, NC - about 50 miles away - or d=
own to Gainesville, GA - about 50 miles the other way. While they are expla=
ining this set of circumstances that seem crazy to a city boy, I have asked=
 for the yellow pages and am crazily flipping through them to see if I can =
find any holes in their story. No luck. But what about the hospital that wa=
s supposed to be 11 miles west on Highway 76 and you were just two miles we=
st? They didn't really know what I was talking about, but they must be the =
same place, because - get this through your head, hiker boy - THERE ARE NO =
MORE HOSPITALS!

Well, it looked like I would either have to try to strong-arm my trail ange=
l into a really long drive or just stay there and see what they could do fo=
r me - they did have some sort of doctor there, after all, didn't they? May=
be the lady at the front desk didn't know it all - ? Maybe, this is a kind =
of minor fracture that they can treat here, without needing an orthopedic d=
octor?

Anyway, based on this somewhat wishful thinking I went back outside, told M=
ister Trail Angel (his name was Terry) I was staying here, he brought my pa=
ck inside for me, I said thanks, he said bye, and he was off. I went back t=
o the emergency room. A very quiet emergency room, I might add. No waiting,=
 a pleasant change from my big city experiences.

The nurse assigned me a bed and told me to lie down on it, dirty boots and =
all. She took my blood pressure while she listened to my story. I would get=
 a lot of practice telling this tale before the day was over. I gathered th=
ey don't see many injured AT hikers in this hospital, which I guess is a go=
od thing. After a little bit a doctor appeared, a friendly guy about my age=
 or maybe a little younger. He also asked for my story and after unwrapping=
 and examining my wrist, he said that although x-rays were needed to be sur=
e, he was pretty sure it was broken and therefore pretty sure they would no=
t be able to do anything much for me there. But let's wait and see how the =
x-rays come out and we will discuss it more then.

After the doctor left me, someone else came and rode me in a wheelchair to =
the X-ray room, where yet another person took a few pictures. Then they whe=
eled me back to my ER bed. Oh yeah, sometime during this process they made =
sure to ask for my medical insurance card - good thing I had carried it wit=
h me on the trail, instead of leaving it in the car or even at home, as I l=
earned afterward that some people do.

Soon after I came back from getting x-rayed, my pain started to get signifi=
cantly worse. My fingers were becoming very swollen and numb and I had to g=
et up and pace around the ER cubicle just to try to keep my mind off of the=
 throbbing. Where was that doctor anyway? Finally, after more than an hour =
(the lunch hour, I might add), he came back. Based on the x-rays, he saw th=
ree separate areas of trauma, but only one that needed attention, and the w=
ay I understood it was that while technically a break, the necessary proced=
ure was a manipulation to reduce (relocate) the "right radial" (one of two =
bones in the lower arm, connecting the wrist and the elbow) from where it w=
as to where it should be. And that needed an orthopedic doctor, with access=
 to anesthesia and the necessary equipment. Which as I had been told before=
 they did not have in Hiawassee, or anywhere near that fair city.

But there was some possible good news. The good doctor indicated that, duri=
ng his rather long absence from my bedside, he had been personally checking=
 into my options for treatment, due to his sympathy for my untenable positi=
on as an injured stranger with only a backpack's worth of worldly goods (bu=
t a valid insurance card), and he had heard that an orthopedic doctor from =
Gainesville, Georgia made occasional teaching visits to a Blairsville clini=
c, less than fifteen miles away, and he had someone checking into that as a=
 possible option. Otherwise, I would have to get myself to Murphy or Gaines=
ville.

Although the Blairsville possibility sounded good, it was still more than a=
 few miles away and, short of more hitchhiking, I was not sure how I would =
get there, or worse and more likely at this point, to an even more distant =
medical facility. I thought of 80 year old Gene, who shuttled my group on S=
unday from Woody Gap to our starting point at Dick's Creek Gap, and who had=
 done a shuttle for another hiking group I was in last July. He did live in=
 Hiawassee, but I had no idea whether I would be able to reach him and if I=
 did, what his plans were for the day.

The doctor interrupted my quiet worrying when he said, well I can at least =
temporarily splint your wrist until we figure out what we can do with you. =
He did it himself, using a gauze-like cloth, which after he soaked in water=
, hardened over the next thirty minutes or so. He straightened my wrist and=
 hand out some as he applied the splint, which improved the circulation and=
 in turn reduced the swelling in my fingers - while I waited, the terrible =
pain finally began to subside.



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-----


As I lay there on my ER bed, I was fairly comfortable, but it was mid after=
noon and I did not know when or where my wrist would get treatment. Althoug=
h I was reasonably confident the doctor was working on finding a place, I w=
as still concerned as to how I would get there. As I pondered that, I began=
 to vaguely remember something about my medical insurance coverage includin=
g transportation to get emergency treatment. There was a phone in my ER cub=
icle, so I went over to it and called the customer service number on my ins=
urance card. Although it took some time to explain my unusual situation to =
the nice lady on the other end of the phone - she never heard of an ER that=
 couldn't handle broken bones either - good news! She finally agreed that s=
uch transportation would be covered.

Shortly thereafter, the ER doctor strolled into my cubicle with more good n=
ews - he had confirmed that the visiting orthopedic doctor from Gainesville=
 (Georgia) was in nearby Blairsville that very day! The bad news was that t=
hey weren't sure if they had the proper facilities in Blairsville for him t=
o work on my particular problem, but for now Blairsville seemed to be my be=
st bet. And so the good ER doctor had already set the wheels in motion to h=
ave me transferred. A nurse came by to ask when the ambulance would be need=
ed to transport me, and the ER doctor, who had been so helpful up to then, =
responded with "He won't be needing the ambulance."

What ?!!!! Seems I had mentioned Gene, the hiker shuttle guy, in passing an=
d the doctor assumed that was how I was going to get transportation. I had =
no idea if Gene was even in town that day, and nothing against Gene, but I =
wasn't sure that it was a good idea in my situation to let myself get out o=
f the medical network, even for a short ride to another facility, especiall=
y if the as yet unknown but sure to be exorbitant, costs of that ride were =
covered by my (also exorbitant) insurance. I quickly asserted myself and an=
nounced " My insurance company said that they will cover the ambulance." Th=
e EMT guys were there in minutes.

The two young EMT guys were obviously a bit baffled by a patient who could =
walk without their assistance, and based on what they could observe of my c=
ondition, didn't really understand why I needed their services in the first=
 place. But one of them grabbed my pack, the other one grabbed my X-rays an=
d other paperwork, and they walked with me to their waiting ambulance. Once=
 I got in the back of the ambulance, the EMT guy assigned to ride back ther=
e with me insisted that I lay down on the backward-facing gurney. He then s=
trapped me in, apologizing but saying it was "required procedure".

The 30-minute ambulance ride to Blairsville was actually a pleasant interlu=
de in what had been a mostly unpleasant day so far. I enjoyed watching the =
small-town streets and the mountain scenery out of the back window, while c=
hatting with the pleasant and respectful EMT attendant, although I felt lik=
e an old man once I realized that this earnest young man was just a little =
older than my own sons. He had been on the Appalachian Trail and other trai=
ls in the area, so we had some nice hiking related conversation. I was also=
 interested to find out that he spent time as a volunteer fireman before be=
coming an EMT, since my own nephew wants to be an EMT and has also spent a =
good amount of time as a volunteer fireman.

When we arrived at the emergency room of Union General Hospital in Blairsvi=
lle, it was almost 4PM. But they were expecting me, and so I was immediatel=
y shown to a treatment room. The EMT guys dropped my pack there, gave my X-=
rays and other records to the ER nurse, wished me good luck, and were on th=
eir way. While he took my blood pressure and other vital signs, Donny, the =
ER nurse, filled me in on the "visiting doctor." Donny used to work for Dr.=
 Weiss at his practice in Gainesville and had nothing but good to say about=
 him. According to Donny, it was my lucky day - an orthopedic doctor and an=
 orthopedic-trained nurse in the same hospital on the same day.

Actually, Dr. Weiss was not at the hospital, but he was in town. Donny had =
already spoken to him, and the doctor would come over as soon as he could. =
They had decided that they had adequate equipment at the hospital to treat =
me, although Donny confided that it was very rare for an orthopedic doctor =
to work at that hospital. Hmmm, I was feeling pretty good until he said tha=
t.

But in the meantime, Donny had to get me ready. The main thing was to put a=
n IV line in me, which the doctor would use to fill my arm with anesthetic =
when he arrived. I hate needles, and recently passed out onto the floor whe=
n blood was taken from my arm as part of a routine physical, but that hardl=
y seemed to be worth mentioning in light of my current medical problem. But=
 I made sure that I was laying safely on the ER bed before offering up my a=
rm. After Donny unwrapped the splint they had put on at the previous hospit=
al, he announced that due to the swelling he would probably have trouble fi=
nding a blood vessel and might have to stick me a few times in search of on=
e. Oh goody. But Donny was golden that day and when he stuck me on the back=
 of my right hand, to my relief (and his), he had found one on his first tr=
y.

Donny then left me to take care of his other duties (this ER seemed somewha=
t busier than the other one), saying that the doctor should be there soon. =
But as I continued to wait, the intense throbbing pain, like that I had exp=
erienced in the other hospital until they wrapped my wrist, returned. I tri=
ed to ignore it and focus on other things, but soon started frantically pac=
ing the room as I had done in the other hospital, which seemed to be the on=
ly way to cope with the pain. After what seemed like forever, but was proba=
bly twenty or thirty minutes, I left the ER treatment room to find Donny. W=
hen I tracked him down, he was sympathetic, but could really do nothing - h=
e had recently called the doctor, who was supposed to be on his way. Donny =
did not want to give me any painkiller so close to being given the anesthes=
ia. So I went back to the ER treatment room to pace some more.

Finally at around 5:30PM, Dr. Weiss blew in. He was a very energetic, grega=
rious, friendly man, about ten years older than me I guessed. He asked me a=
 few personal questions about where I was from, etc., listened to my story =
of what happened, and poked and prodded my wrist area a bit, asking me how =
certain pressure points felt. He looked at the X-rays and then explained to=
 me what he saw and what needed to be done, very similar to what I had been=
 told at the previous hospital. After asking if I had any questions - not r=
eally, I said - he told Donny they were going to start the anesthesia - con=
scious sedation, they called it.

Donny quickly attached several round cloth patches to my chest and stomach =
- each patch had a set of wires running from it to a monitor that Donny was=
 in charge of watching - this was apparently serious stuff. The doctor then=
 attached the tube carrying the anesthetic to the IV port Donny had previou=
sly placed in my right hand. Donny recited vital statistics from the monito=
r while we all waited for the anesthetic to take effect. Dr. Weiss then sai=
d something about my arm changing colors but not to worry. He then attached=
 a tourniquet, like a blood pressure cuff, to my right arm, just under the =
armpit. I couldn't really feel my arm at that point but when I looked over =
at it, it was green, just like Martian make-up in a science fiction movie. =
I would have been worried if Dr. Weiss had not warned me first.

The whole time this was going on, Dr. Weiss was talking to me about Florida=
, hiking, his practice, my career, real estate, and a multitude of other th=
ings - in other words, a normal, cordial conversation. Very rare based on m=
ost (but not all) of the doctors I have run up against in south Florida.

Then Dr. Weiss lifted my arm straight up off the table, extending it fully =
so the fingers pointed to the ceiling, and started what looked like a two-h=
anded massage on my wrist and lower arm. He was relocating the out of place=
 bones. The arm was like a slab of meat as far as I was concerned, having n=
othing to do with me - I could feel nothing but a tugging up around my shou=
lder. After no more than five minutes of this, Dr. Weiss put my arm back on=
 the table beside me. He unwrapped two splints, putting one on top of my ar=
m and one below and then quickly wrapped the splinted arm in gauze mesh. Th=
e top splint extended past the elbow and served to immobilize it in a 90-de=
gree bend. In what seemed strange at the time, and looked strange to me the=
 whole time I had that cast (which I later learned is of the type known as =
a "sugar tong"), he topped it all off with some white plastic tape, wrapped=
 sparsely up and down the entire arm, not very symmetrical and not particul=
arly tight.

Dr. Weiss then had X-rays taken of the wrist - I didn't even have to move f=
rom the ER table! While we were waiting for the developed pictures, the pho=
ne rang. Donny was out of the room for some reason, and so Dr. Weiss answer=
ed it. The call turned out to be for him. As he continued talking, I became=
 concerned because he had not yet released the tourniquet on my upper arm. =
I had earlier overheard him tell Donny something about me not being able to=
 "stand" more than a certain amount of time with the tourniquet on. What ex=
actly did that mean? And my arm being a Martian green piece of meat didn't =
help any. How long was this phone call going to take anyway? Everything I t=
hought I might say something (like "HELLLLLLLLLP!"), it seemed like doctor =
was about to hang up and so I wouldn't - and then the guy on the other end =
would say something to re-start the conversation.

Just as I was about to get really frantic, the doctor finished his phone ca=
ll. He looked at me and laughed "Well, I guess we better get this tournique=
t disconnected - ha ha!" Very funny, doctor - you're a riot.

Disconnecting the tourniquet proved to be another two-man operation - the d=
octor explained that letting all of the blood flow at once was not a good i=
dea. So he did it in stages while Donny looked at the vital signs provided =
by the electronic sensors that were still glued to my upper body. By this t=
ime the x-rays came back - Dr. Weiss looked at them, showed them to me, and=
 pronounced himself satisfied. He asked me to wiggle my fingers and to make=
 a fist - I was able to do both satisfactorily. He wrote me a prescription =
for pain medication, gave me a few suggestions for taking care of my wrist =
and the cast, told me to see a doctor at home in a week or two for follow-u=
p, made a few notes in the file, and he was gone. It was past 6PM and I was=
 in Blairsville, Georgia with my arm in a sling and only a backpack to my n=
ame - what now?