It truly is never a dull moment here. Nick and I were out with friends on Friday night when I received a phone call from Joe asking when we were coming home. He hurt his shoulder walking home from babysitting. He was walking along a short wall he said, jumped off and fell when his ankle rolled. He landed on his right shoulder. He said he could move his arm fine. So I advised him to ice it and take some advil. It was still bothering him when we arrived home shortly after. And when he woke in the morning unable to lift his arm we went off to the ER.
We went to Teknon, ,a private supposedly American run hospital. Spanish health care is really very good. But we go to Teknon in the hopes of finding an English speaking doctor. And we actually never have. When we checked in I asked for a doctor who speaks English if possible. (in my bad spanish which was further marred by the Laryngitis that I woke up) No pasa nada, she said, Tranquila. Translation...Don't worry about it.
The nurse who welcomed Joe spoke some English and we were able to get our story across in English, in which we realize that Joe's small wall was actually higher than 3 feet. I started to lose hope that he'd just bruised something.Then the doctor came in and she didn't speak any English. But the good thing about it is when forced to use Spanish it turns out that we do ok. Not completely fluent but overall communication is achieved. A few x-rays later we found out that he indeed fractured his arm, high up right below the shoulder joint. No cast...just a fancy looking shoulder immobilizer. And advil...the wonder drug.
He's looking at 4-6 weeks of healing time. We've got a follow up appointment on Friday. I'm taking bets on whether or not he speaks English.
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