I've fallen and I can't get up!

I picked my friend up from the airport Thursday night, and we stayed up until almost 4am giggling like schoolgirls. It was fantastic, and good for my soul. I was off Friday, so we spent the morning picking up her new car and chatting over coffee at Starbuck's. Our afternoon plan was to go check out some office space, as she is considering opening her own criminal law firm. We crossed the street to enter the office complex for her first appointment, and I tripped over the curb (which was broken and jagged). As I fell to the cement, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I could see my lower leg hyperextended to an unnatural position and flop around like a wet noodle on the way down. We were on a very busy street and I landed half on the curb and half on the street. I was panicked and trying to drag myself out of the street so that I could avoid being run over. Dragging myself over was no easy task, since I couldn't move my leg. It was numb and tingly, and when I tried to move it, I could see my kneecap cave in. I had my friend call my husband to come and take me to the hospital.

While we waited for K to get there, the owner of the building (who my friend had the appointment with) drove out of the parking garage and yelled that we couldn't sit on the sidewalk in front of the building. I thought that it was fairly obvious that we weren't just having a leisurely rest, since my pants leg was pulled up to mid thigh and I was crying, but apparently not. My friend explained that I had fallen and couldn't move and was waiting on an ambulance or my husband. I don't remember what he said next, but whatever it was must've really pissed my friend off because she started yelling at him about how I'd fallen because his sidewalk was messed up. He started to drive off, and she yelled that she appreciated his concern, since he never once asked if I was okay. So he turned back around, and asked if he could call an ambulance. But even then, he never asked if I was okay.

So K finally came and picked me up, helped me into the car and drove me to the emergency room. After waiting for what seemed like forever, I was able to go in and have x-rays taken. I suspect that the x-ray technician enjoyed torturing me. Everyone else at the hospital was incredible and gentle. I tried to explain to her that I could. not. move. my. knee, but she pretty much told me to do it anyway. It hurt so bad that I was sobbing while I attempted to get onto the x-ray table and turn different ways so she could get a good look at my knee. I know it's necessary and it's her job, but my gosh, it hurt! The good news is that it's not broken and that I've been high as a kite from my pain meds since I left the hospital. The bad news is that I'm on crutches and in a knee immobolizer, and I have to go see an orthopedic surgeon because the chances are good that I've torn something and will have to have surgery to have it fixed.

The pain meds are keeping me asleep most of the time, but right now, they don't seem to be helping because I'm in a great deal of pain. I really need a bath, and I'm trying to figure out the logistics of making that happen. K usually does a great job of taking care of me when I am sick, but he was gone all morning yesterday and several hours this morning. His cousin is here and they went out to dinner with all of my inlaws last night, and they are at my mother-in-law's house right now. I know I'm being a big baby, but I feel completely helpless and abandoned. And? My knee hurts like a MF! But I'll live. Plus, I keep calling my mom, who is giving me lots of sympathy.