X had been exhausted when he arrived at Elmbrook Hospital in Waukesha. The four and one half hour ambulance ride had given him too much time to think about what was happening. It had been too much time to wonder just what the hell was going on. During the trip south to the Milwaukee area, the medic in the back of the ambulance had continued to watch over X. He asked if he’d needed anything and tried to make X as comfortable as possible. X had been given more morphine for the voyage, so he was pleasantly numb. X stared out the ambulance side window as the streetlights raced after one another. Trails of light glimmered on a desolate route into an unknown future.
Upon arriving at Elmbrook Emergency, X was taken into a room. Shortly afterwards to the surprise of X, his Aunt Marge and cousin Beth peeked their heads threw the door.
They entered the room with serious faces and Beth yelled out,
“What the hell is going on? What the hell happened?”
While explaining the situation, the doctor arrived. He uncovered the blankets to look at X’s leg. Everyone in the room had a good laugh because he was still wearing his bright orange and yellow Hawaiian swim trunks which were still wet and sandy. X was so cold. He looked down at his leg and fear tore trough him again. X didn’t want the doctor to touch his leg. With his strong and confident hands, the doctor took X’s ankle and put his other hand behind his knee. Then with uttermost gentleness, he moved the leg and put the broken femur back in place. X received more pain medication afterwards then drifted off to sleep. The surgery was scheduled for the next morning.
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