15 Soledad

About this time, I looked up to see Soledad, the wife of an acquaintance, enter my examining room. I happily realized that one of the phone numbers I’d handed out had indeed resulted in Soledad getting a call about my situation. She explained that she had had to call around to a number of hospitals searching for “a gringo with the broken leg” and thankfully this being a rare occurrence in Lima on a Sunday morning, she was able to locate me at San Paulo.

I was thankful that someone I knew was at my side, especially someone with bilingual abilities. The latter allowed me the opportunity to get a better grasp on the medical decisions I was facing. However, I didn’t have too much time to get into that.

A couple nurses gathered, and the surgeon returned and told me to brace myself. He then grabbed my misdirected right foot in a firm grip, and literally yanked it, repositioning it in a more natural alignment, so that the broken bones protruding out of the side of my leg were no more.

The incredible rush of pain was mercifully followed by the doctor slipping a plastic zip-up bag over my foot and calf, and then air was pumped into the sealed bag. This procedure created a sustained steady pressure on my wound, which reduced the pain to the most bearable state of the last one and a half hour period. Ah, sweet relief!

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