Broke My Humerus

Day One

With 10 minutes left to go of a game of rugby versus HMS Monmouth, a tackle which was clean in every way possible resulted in a mid-shaft fracture of my left humerus. If the prop who smashed me ever reads this, I hold no grudges, and actually kept my shirt which they had to cut me out of, in case the ship stops back in Gibraltar after your six month tour of the Gulf... Would be a great souvenir for the ship's club house (galley) and definitely beats one of those silly ties we usually give out!

I knew something was up from the second I found myself laying on the floor. The pain hadn't kicked in yet, but as far as I could tell my elbow and shoulder were relatively straight... so why was my hand under the small of my back? Had I dislocated my shoulder? My elbow? I tried to move my arm and realised it was excruciatingly painful so actually used my right hand to pull my left arm out from underneath me - and that's when the shaking started.

The pain was like nothing I have ever experienced and the resulting surgery comes a modest second in comparison. It wasn't sharp, or dull... it was hot. I remember repeating to the nurse or doctor from Gibraltar's PRMC (fortunately located right beside the rugby pitch) who had kindly sourced some entonox that it felt like my arm was on fire. The slightest movement stoked said fire even more.

A slow ambulance ride to Gibraltar's St Bernard's Hospital (not wanting to move me about to much) after the mission to get me from the ground onto a trolley and into the bus with only some more "gas & air" to alleviate the pain (the ambulance crews out here are not allowed to administer anything stronger) gets me to A&E to be assessed. More pain as some idiot pushes on my mangled, broken, floppy arm to help move me from the ambulance trolley onto the bed in A&E and my body finally gives in and goes into shock.

Blood pressure plummets to 72/50, the room is spinning, I start to feel sick and ask, nae plead, for some pain relief. "Not until your BP is up a bit". The bed is tilted with my feet raised to try and help bring it back up to "not quite blacking out" and finally we get some analgesia, couple with a backslab cast and a bed in the ward for the night opposite some poor old dear who had obviously left her marbles somewhere back in 1973 who refused to sleep.

Didn't even get a post match pint.