The hospital Avner moved from emergency to the pediatric floor on that Friday afternoon. Avner arrived at the hospital early in the morning after a difficult evening, still asleep and unable to cooperate, nonverbal and resisting attempts to examine him.
Barbara and I woke early Friday morning. We had taken a gamble on my hunch, based on an article I had found on the internet. The day before had been an unqualified disaster. Avner destroyed personal possessions, taken a stab at ruining his most important friendship and scared us as his parents. We chose between calling for emergency services to have him involuntarily committed or going with the hope that
His leg just hung from his body, showing no signs of life, except a pulse. We visited a spinal specialist for an expert opinion. He performed a physical exam and a basic pinprick assessment which also indicated a problem. An orthotic insert was ordered that fit in Avner’s shoe to manage the drop foot. The doctor also ordered an MRI.
Rural Georgia is no place to have a medical emergency on a weekend. The only hospital is small. The emergency staff was sparse and equipment was minimal. The first task after providing insurance information and identification was getting someone to offload Avner from the bus onto a gurney.
The weekend passed without incident. I was bored nearly to tears, except for the abject fear of impending eye surgery. I spent most of Saturday on the first weekend of June 2016, asleep because of my late visit to the hospital. Sunday, I sat around the house, afraid to overexert, as if my sacrificed time could somehow save my travel plans. Barbara drove me to the doctor’s office on Monday