Ever wonder about having a medical emergency while in a foreign country? How frightening it would be to need immediate medical attention and not know what the paramedics or doctors were saying to you? Or how the their emergency number even works? Well, as an American in Germany, I got to experience this exact thing first hand.
On Monday, July 21st I was going about my day as normal. While upstairs I gathered clothes to put in the wash, scrubbed the toilet, and decided to take the fan in my bedroom downstairs to keep the living room cool for when I was folding laundry. I was not paying attention, and my mind was already ten chores ahead; I didn't see Jenks laying across the second step. There was a yowl of surprise and pain when I stepped on him, I jerked back, the fan flew from my arms, and down the stairs I went. When I landed at the bottom I just laid there, stunned. My first coherent thought was "aw shit, I broke the fan..." then I heard an annoyed sounding "mfrrrow" and turned my head to see Jenks standing on the middle-step wearing a rather irritated expression on his kitty face. Slowly, and paying close attention to how my body felt, I got up off the floor. No pain, no soreness. I was surprised, but relieved. I figured I got amazingly lucky; dodged a major bullet. Unfortunately, I figured wrong.
The pain started a few hours after the fall. The muscles in my back felt bunched up. I told my husband what had happened and he asked if I wanted to go get checked out at LRMC (American military hospital). I refused, deciding to take a bath instead, loosen myself up and try to relax. It didn't help. The pain got worse. I laid down on my bed hoping that might help and wound up taking an unexpected nap. I woke up in agony. I went downstairs to get some tylonal, my back muscles started to seize, I sat down on the couch. Brandon came downstairs and I told him we needed to go to the hospital. He ran upstairs to get me some clothes (yes, I was practically naked, just chilling in my underwear, it's my house don't judge me) and I stood up. I walked a few feet, then a massive muscle spasm clenched my back in the worst pain I have ever felt. I yelled and fell to my knees. Brandon came running, tried to help me up. Every time I moved these...rolls and waves of sheer agony bunched up my upper back, right below my shoulder blades. It was horrible. Not sure how long before Bran gave up and called the emergency number (here in Germany we call 112 instead of 911). He couldn't put clothes on me so instead he covered me with my robe (getting my arms through hurt like hell) I didn't think the pain could get worse, but it continued to do so. My vision blurred, went black a few times. I think I kept going in and out of consciousness.
Now, it is at this point that my memory gets hazy, so forgive me if this next bit seems choppy. I only remember bits and pieces. The paramedics arrived. I think there were two men, I remember their boots. One knelt beside me to ask me questions. He spoke broken English and had a very thick German accent. I don't remember what he asked or what I said. I remember him patting my hands. Brandon told me they had trouble finding a vein to give me medication. They knew moving me onto the stretcher and into the ambulance would be painful so they wanted to give me something to help with the pain. I started shaking, which made the muscle spasms worse. I kept asking everyone why I was shaking so much, but no one answered me. It was like I no one could hear me, or maybe I was only thinking the question and not actually saying it out loud. There was a lot of movement, people talking, radio static. Brandon told me later that they called a second paramedic team to come out to help move me. They wanted to keep my spine and neck as straight as possible and needed additional hands to keep me from twisting in any way and hurting myself worse. A woman appeared, she spoke to me and told me she was going to try and give me some medicine and that it will make me sleepy. I asked her why I was shaking and she patted my hand and told me I was in shock but that everything was going to be okay. She apparently had no problem finding a vein. I don't remember getting on the stretcher, or being outside, I can't recall anything about the ambulance ride to the hospital. Brandon says I begged him to come in the ambulance with me. He rode up front and could hear me calling for him every few minutes.
My next memory is of being in a room with half a dozen people moving around me. I kept asking questions, but no one would answer them. They all just talked to each other. Two were laughing about something. Then the bed I was laying on moved and was being wheeled toward a machine I recognized from movies. I think it's called an MRI machine or CAT scanner or something. I panicked. I could not breathe. I can't stand being in enclosed spaces, I am very claustrophobic. A woman brushed back the hair from my face and spoke to me. It was in German but it felt comforting. They gave me something, maybe more pain medication, or some anti-anxiety medicine. I don't really remember much after that. Brandon says they let him come in to be with me, and that I had a panic attack when the doctors wouldn't let me get up to go to the bathroom. He also told me that Hope was there. They walked alongside my bed as an orderly took me to my room. According to Hope the first words out of my mouth to her were "I'm sorry". No idea what I could have been apologizing for. Maybe for having her come out to give Bran a ride home? For getting hurt and worrying her? Not sure.
I have no idea how long it took to clear the fog caused by the medications, but my next somewhat clear memory is of my roommate talking to me. She was very kind. Seemed she broke her foot in several places when she herself fell down the stairs. The night nurse did not speak English. She did her best to make me comfortable, tried to sooth me when I cried out in pain. Gave me more medicine and hummed while we waited for it to kick in. Susan, my roommate, was kind enough to translate for us so the nurse could better care for me. Susan told me that in Germany, nurses in hospitals are called Sisters, but they aren't nuns or affiliated with religious medicine. She also told me something about the bells in the various villages, but I can't remember what it was. I never got a good look at her either, I was in too much pain to move, so I stayed on my back. Hospital ceilings are far too plain, they should paint murals or put up posters or something.
The next morning, the doctor burst into the room followed by several other people, doctors in training maybe, or nurses. He went to Susan first and spoke to her in German, they both spoke very fast, but I did catch a few words I recognized. Then he came over to my bed and began to speak rapidly in German. Before I could say anything, Susan interrupted and told him I did not speak German. He seemed a little annoyed when he started over in English. He told me that he examined me last night and that he checked my pictures (I'm assuming he meant x-rays) and that I did not have any broken bones. He said a Sister would be by soon to draw blood for tests and afterwards someone would take me for more pictures to check my organs (an ultrasound). He told me to let the Sister know if I was in pain and she would give me medicine. Then he swooped out of the room. I fell back asleep not long after he left, woke up when the Sister came to draw blood. A few minutes after she was finished a man (male nurse or orderly) came in, spoke to me in German. I said "nein sprekenze Dutche" (I don't speak German) and he just frowned at me. Then he came around the bed, I heard a few click and clunk noises and suddenly he was wheeling my bed out the door and down the hall. He moved fast, the ceiling whooshed by in a blur and I had to close my eyes. We went on a short elevator ride (ever stare at the ceiling of an elevator? Pretty drab) and then we were flying down another hall. He stopped and parked me next to another woman laying in a bed, she was either sleeping or unconscious. No clue how long I lay there, long enough for me to fall asleep again anyway. I was woken up by a Sister rolling me into a room. I was given an ultrasound (gel was cold, guess Germans don't have theirs heated like American hospitals do) and was told that my organs were fine and everything looked good. I was taken back out into the hallway where I waited only a few minutes before someone else came and took me back to my room; slower this time thankfully.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Susan was released to go home, accompanied by her children who would be caring for her while her foot healed. Brandon came in as soon as they allowed visitors and stayed for most of the day. Hope came by with Will and they visited for a bit. The meals followed the traditional German fare: light breakfast of bread, butter, and cheese (those rolls were tasty!) lunch was boiled potatoes, some kind of meat (pork schnitzel I think?) spinach, and yogurt, dinner was a cheese sandwich and some kind of soup. I did not have much of an appetite and only had a few bites here and there. I don't know if it was the medications or the stress of being in the hospital. I slept a lot, I was told that was a good thing. I was not allowed to leave my bed without someone there to be sure I did not fall. It hurt too much to move anyway, in spite of the drugs. I was afraid of drinking much water because I did not want to need to pee. I was given a bedpan, it was propped under my rear. (No idea what happened to my underwear, I don't remember and would prefer not to think too hard on that) No matter how hard I tried to relax and let myself pee, I just couldn't. It got to be very uncomfortable. I was visited by the hospital's physical therapist in the late afternoon. She helped me through some stretches, then assisted me in getting up so I could take a short walk with her. Afterwards I was able to use the toilet. (HUGE relief there) It took several minutes, and a lot of pain, but I was finally able to wipe myself and did not need my husband or a nurse to help me; felt like a big accomplishment. I received another visitor, she said she was a liaison from LRMC (military hospital) and that if I needed anything or had any questions to call her. She gave me her business card and wrote her cell number on the back. She said the reason I was taken to the German hospital was because it was closer and the paramedics believed my life may have been in danger if I did not get medical attention immediately. She also told me what to do with Tricare to be sure my insurance was billed and not me. I spoke to a nurse later and she said there was concern about my heart the day I was brought in. I had to explain that I have a slightly higher than normal heart rate, it's genetic and not necessarily dangerous so long as I avoid excessive caffeine. Of course, my heart rate must have been even higher since I was stressed and panicking. She told me she would make a note of that in my file so the doctor would know. I was given some more painkillers after dinner and was out like a light.
I woke early the following morning when an unconscious woman was wheeled in on a bed similar to mine; she did not stay long before she was taken for surgery, I did not see her again after that and I hoped she was recovering in a different room. I had the room to myself when Brandon came and we were told I might be able to go home that day, or I may need to stay another (3rd) night. Another, older woman was brought in, she was accompanied by a man (husband?) and seemed in rough shape but conscious. We did not speak much.
As the day went on I was able to move a lot more and could get out of bed without help. The PT therapist came by again and had me walk up and down some stairs. I seemed to pass her test and when the doctor came back by later I was given my release letter. I was home by 6pm and happy for it! (it took hours for me to get my release letter and that room was uncomfortably hot!)
I have to say, in spite of the language barrier and the heat, my hospital stay was not so bad. The various staff members were ( mostly, with one small exception) kind and seemed to genuinely care for making their patients feel better. The idea of having to go to a German ER no longer makes me feel anxious as it did before. I hope other Americans here in Germany read this post and that it quells any fears or anxieties they may feel. Whether German or American, doctors are doctors, nurses are nurses (though some are called Sisters) and these people in the medical field come in all types from sweet and motherly, to firm and abrupt. I hope and pray we Walkers have no more medical emergencies, but if we do I won't have any qualms about going back. (Trust me, this is a huge concession on my part since I HATE hospitals)
Oh, and as for my recovery, I am doing much better. I am able to tilt my head down and put my chin to my chest without pain and can even bend at the waste (almost all the way too, but not entirely just yet.) Brandon, Hope, and my awesome sister who is visiting us from Colorado have been taking wonderful care of me and have been helping me when I need it.
I saw my doctor the day after I got out of the hospital and I was given some medications for home, I haven't needed any today though. She said it can take four to six weeks for my sprained back to heal fully but that I can go ahead and start getting back into my workout routine; modifying it according to my pain level. It's been a week since my fall and already I feel almost back to normal. Everyone keeps telling me not to push it though, since it's apparently really easy to re-sprain it doing something completely normal until it is fully healed. I am not to worried though; I have a great physical therapist at LRMC, a good friend to work out with, and a husband who is more than happy to help with anything I need. I'll go easy, not push too hard, and I will be just fine.
One last note for my fellow military families: if you DO have to go to the German hospital, you will need to take your release letter to the TriCare office as soon as possible. Just go, sign in, and speak to the counselor. The one I spoke to was very nice. I just handed her the paperwork and she said it can take three to six weeks for it to be translated and put into my file for my provider to see, and if I get anything from the hospital in my mailbox (not the one on base, the one at my off-base home) I am to take it to the TriCare office right away. My visit and everything with it is completely covered.
(edit)
I began writing this just a few days after I was released since I could not do much else. I went through and edited a few things after I was finished writing out everything I could remember but left it (mostly) as it was. I am a bit further along in my healing process than I was when I wrote parts of this post.
On Monday, July 21st I was going about my day as normal. While upstairs I gathered clothes to put in the wash, scrubbed the toilet, and decided to take the fan in my bedroom downstairs to keep the living room cool for when I was folding laundry. I was not paying attention, and my mind was already ten chores ahead; I didn't see Jenks laying across the second step. There was a yowl of surprise and pain when I stepped on him, I jerked back, the fan flew from my arms, and down the stairs I went. When I landed at the bottom I just laid there, stunned. My first coherent thought was "aw shit, I broke the fan..." then I heard an annoyed sounding "mfrrrow" and turned my head to see Jenks standing on the middle-step wearing a rather irritated expression on his kitty face. Slowly, and paying close attention to how my body felt, I got up off the floor. No pain, no soreness. I was surprised, but relieved. I figured I got amazingly lucky; dodged a major bullet. Unfortunately, I figured wrong.
The pain started a few hours after the fall. The muscles in my back felt bunched up. I told my husband what had happened and he asked if I wanted to go get checked out at LRMC (American military hospital). I refused, deciding to take a bath instead, loosen myself up and try to relax. It didn't help. The pain got worse. I laid down on my bed hoping that might help and wound up taking an unexpected nap. I woke up in agony. I went downstairs to get some tylonal, my back muscles started to seize, I sat down on the couch. Brandon came downstairs and I told him we needed to go to the hospital. He ran upstairs to get me some clothes (yes, I was practically naked, just chilling in my underwear, it's my house don't judge me) and I stood up. I walked a few feet, then a massive muscle spasm clenched my back in the worst pain I have ever felt. I yelled and fell to my knees. Brandon came running, tried to help me up. Every time I moved these...rolls and waves of sheer agony bunched up my upper back, right below my shoulder blades. It was horrible. Not sure how long before Bran gave up and called the emergency number (here in Germany we call 112 instead of 911). He couldn't put clothes on me so instead he covered me with my robe (getting my arms through hurt like hell) I didn't think the pain could get worse, but it continued to do so. My vision blurred, went black a few times. I think I kept going in and out of consciousness.
Now, it is at this point that my memory gets hazy, so forgive me if this next bit seems choppy. I only remember bits and pieces. The paramedics arrived. I think there were two men, I remember their boots. One knelt beside me to ask me questions. He spoke broken English and had a very thick German accent. I don't remember what he asked or what I said. I remember him patting my hands. Brandon told me they had trouble finding a vein to give me medication. They knew moving me onto the stretcher and into the ambulance would be painful so they wanted to give me something to help with the pain. I started shaking, which made the muscle spasms worse. I kept asking everyone why I was shaking so much, but no one answered me. It was like I no one could hear me, or maybe I was only thinking the question and not actually saying it out loud. There was a lot of movement, people talking, radio static. Brandon told me later that they called a second paramedic team to come out to help move me. They wanted to keep my spine and neck as straight as possible and needed additional hands to keep me from twisting in any way and hurting myself worse. A woman appeared, she spoke to me and told me she was going to try and give me some medicine and that it will make me sleepy. I asked her why I was shaking and she patted my hand and told me I was in shock but that everything was going to be okay. She apparently had no problem finding a vein. I don't remember getting on the stretcher, or being outside, I can't recall anything about the ambulance ride to the hospital. Brandon says I begged him to come in the ambulance with me. He rode up front and could hear me calling for him every few minutes.
My next memory is of being in a room with half a dozen people moving around me. I kept asking questions, but no one would answer them. They all just talked to each other. Two were laughing about something. Then the bed I was laying on moved and was being wheeled toward a machine I recognized from movies. I think it's called an MRI machine or CAT scanner or something. I panicked. I could not breathe. I can't stand being in enclosed spaces, I am very claustrophobic. A woman brushed back the hair from my face and spoke to me. It was in German but it felt comforting. They gave me something, maybe more pain medication, or some anti-anxiety medicine. I don't really remember much after that. Brandon says they let him come in to be with me, and that I had a panic attack when the doctors wouldn't let me get up to go to the bathroom. He also told me that Hope was there. They walked alongside my bed as an orderly took me to my room. According to Hope the first words out of my mouth to her were "I'm sorry". No idea what I could have been apologizing for. Maybe for having her come out to give Bran a ride home? For getting hurt and worrying her? Not sure.
I have no idea how long it took to clear the fog caused by the medications, but my next somewhat clear memory is of my roommate talking to me. She was very kind. Seemed she broke her foot in several places when she herself fell down the stairs. The night nurse did not speak English. She did her best to make me comfortable, tried to sooth me when I cried out in pain. Gave me more medicine and hummed while we waited for it to kick in. Susan, my roommate, was kind enough to translate for us so the nurse could better care for me. Susan told me that in Germany, nurses in hospitals are called Sisters, but they aren't nuns or affiliated with religious medicine. She also told me something about the bells in the various villages, but I can't remember what it was. I never got a good look at her either, I was in too much pain to move, so I stayed on my back. Hospital ceilings are far too plain, they should paint murals or put up posters or something.
The next morning, the doctor burst into the room followed by several other people, doctors in training maybe, or nurses. He went to Susan first and spoke to her in German, they both spoke very fast, but I did catch a few words I recognized. Then he came over to my bed and began to speak rapidly in German. Before I could say anything, Susan interrupted and told him I did not speak German. He seemed a little annoyed when he started over in English. He told me that he examined me last night and that he checked my pictures (I'm assuming he meant x-rays) and that I did not have any broken bones. He said a Sister would be by soon to draw blood for tests and afterwards someone would take me for more pictures to check my organs (an ultrasound). He told me to let the Sister know if I was in pain and she would give me medicine. Then he swooped out of the room. I fell back asleep not long after he left, woke up when the Sister came to draw blood. A few minutes after she was finished a man (male nurse or orderly) came in, spoke to me in German. I said "nein sprekenze Dutche" (I don't speak German) and he just frowned at me. Then he came around the bed, I heard a few click and clunk noises and suddenly he was wheeling my bed out the door and down the hall. He moved fast, the ceiling whooshed by in a blur and I had to close my eyes. We went on a short elevator ride (ever stare at the ceiling of an elevator? Pretty drab) and then we were flying down another hall. He stopped and parked me next to another woman laying in a bed, she was either sleeping or unconscious. No clue how long I lay there, long enough for me to fall asleep again anyway. I was woken up by a Sister rolling me into a room. I was given an ultrasound (gel was cold, guess Germans don't have theirs heated like American hospitals do) and was told that my organs were fine and everything looked good. I was taken back out into the hallway where I waited only a few minutes before someone else came and took me back to my room; slower this time thankfully.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Susan was released to go home, accompanied by her children who would be caring for her while her foot healed. Brandon came in as soon as they allowed visitors and stayed for most of the day. Hope came by with Will and they visited for a bit. The meals followed the traditional German fare: light breakfast of bread, butter, and cheese (those rolls were tasty!) lunch was boiled potatoes, some kind of meat (pork schnitzel I think?) spinach, and yogurt, dinner was a cheese sandwich and some kind of soup. I did not have much of an appetite and only had a few bites here and there. I don't know if it was the medications or the stress of being in the hospital. I slept a lot, I was told that was a good thing. I was not allowed to leave my bed without someone there to be sure I did not fall. It hurt too much to move anyway, in spite of the drugs. I was afraid of drinking much water because I did not want to need to pee. I was given a bedpan, it was propped under my rear. (No idea what happened to my underwear, I don't remember and would prefer not to think too hard on that) No matter how hard I tried to relax and let myself pee, I just couldn't. It got to be very uncomfortable. I was visited by the hospital's physical therapist in the late afternoon. She helped me through some stretches, then assisted me in getting up so I could take a short walk with her. Afterwards I was able to use the toilet. (HUGE relief there) It took several minutes, and a lot of pain, but I was finally able to wipe myself and did not need my husband or a nurse to help me; felt like a big accomplishment. I received another visitor, she said she was a liaison from LRMC (military hospital) and that if I needed anything or had any questions to call her. She gave me her business card and wrote her cell number on the back. She said the reason I was taken to the German hospital was because it was closer and the paramedics believed my life may have been in danger if I did not get medical attention immediately. She also told me what to do with Tricare to be sure my insurance was billed and not me. I spoke to a nurse later and she said there was concern about my heart the day I was brought in. I had to explain that I have a slightly higher than normal heart rate, it's genetic and not necessarily dangerous so long as I avoid excessive caffeine. Of course, my heart rate must have been even higher since I was stressed and panicking. She told me she would make a note of that in my file so the doctor would know. I was given some more painkillers after dinner and was out like a light.
I woke early the following morning when an unconscious woman was wheeled in on a bed similar to mine; she did not stay long before she was taken for surgery, I did not see her again after that and I hoped she was recovering in a different room. I had the room to myself when Brandon came and we were told I might be able to go home that day, or I may need to stay another (3rd) night. Another, older woman was brought in, she was accompanied by a man (husband?) and seemed in rough shape but conscious. We did not speak much.
As the day went on I was able to move a lot more and could get out of bed without help. The PT therapist came by again and had me walk up and down some stairs. I seemed to pass her test and when the doctor came back by later I was given my release letter. I was home by 6pm and happy for it! (it took hours for me to get my release letter and that room was uncomfortably hot!)
I have to say, in spite of the language barrier and the heat, my hospital stay was not so bad. The various staff members were ( mostly, with one small exception) kind and seemed to genuinely care for making their patients feel better. The idea of having to go to a German ER no longer makes me feel anxious as it did before. I hope other Americans here in Germany read this post and that it quells any fears or anxieties they may feel. Whether German or American, doctors are doctors, nurses are nurses (though some are called Sisters) and these people in the medical field come in all types from sweet and motherly, to firm and abrupt. I hope and pray we Walkers have no more medical emergencies, but if we do I won't have any qualms about going back. (Trust me, this is a huge concession on my part since I HATE hospitals)
Oh, and as for my recovery, I am doing much better. I am able to tilt my head down and put my chin to my chest without pain and can even bend at the waste (almost all the way too, but not entirely just yet.) Brandon, Hope, and my awesome sister who is visiting us from Colorado have been taking wonderful care of me and have been helping me when I need it.
I saw my doctor the day after I got out of the hospital and I was given some medications for home, I haven't needed any today though. She said it can take four to six weeks for my sprained back to heal fully but that I can go ahead and start getting back into my workout routine; modifying it according to my pain level. It's been a week since my fall and already I feel almost back to normal. Everyone keeps telling me not to push it though, since it's apparently really easy to re-sprain it doing something completely normal until it is fully healed. I am not to worried though; I have a great physical therapist at LRMC, a good friend to work out with, and a husband who is more than happy to help with anything I need. I'll go easy, not push too hard, and I will be just fine.
One last note for my fellow military families: if you DO have to go to the German hospital, you will need to take your release letter to the TriCare office as soon as possible. Just go, sign in, and speak to the counselor. The one I spoke to was very nice. I just handed her the paperwork and she said it can take three to six weeks for it to be translated and put into my file for my provider to see, and if I get anything from the hospital in my mailbox (not the one on base, the one at my off-base home) I am to take it to the TriCare office right away. My visit and everything with it is completely covered.
(edit)
I began writing this just a few days after I was released since I could not do much else. I went through and edited a few things after I was finished writing out everything I could remember but left it (mostly) as it was. I am a bit further along in my healing process than I was when I wrote parts of this post.