CDMC - The Capital District Mineral Club

November 8, 2003

The day started a bit normal. I woke up at 9:30am. Gerry Boileau and I were going rock collecting in central New York state. He was supposed to arrive at 11am. He overslept and didn't show up until around noon. We began the trip as always, stopping at the rest stop to get our ceremonial Duncan Donuts breakfast. We stopped at the rest stop before that as well, but their coffee wasn't to Gerry's liking. We finally found the outcrop we were searching for after studying the topographic map vs. the map book (the greatest invention ever) for a while. We were really excited to find that the site wasn't posted, and Gerry had obtained permission from a young lad hoping to become a minister about 8 years prior, so as far as we knew, we were all set. Then after we were there for what seemed like about ten minutes, a blue pickup truck pulled up along side us and asked us who we got permission from to be on this land. Gerry of course then told the man about the young lad. This got the guy in the truck a bit peeved in which he told us that we were in a bit of trouble cause he said that he has owned this land for the past 18 years. The guy then started laughing and told us that he was amused by the stories he has heard over the years. So then as we were standing there, staring back and forth, we asked permission right then and there. Smiles were exchanged from both sides, and the guy gladly gave his permission but told us not to get hurt. We started looking through the rocks...not really finding anything we wanted, but finding things that gave evidence that what we wanted was definitely there.

So after being at the outcrop for what seemed like about a half hour, I looked over to see Gerry howling and rolling back and forth on the ground. I was weird because I missed what happened, but I had only looked away for about a minute and was standing about ten feet from him. I asked him if he was ok, thinking he wasn't, and he didn't answer. Then I asked him if he needed an ambulance. He wasn't really answering me. This concerned me. I got really scared...almost petrified. Then the adrenaline kicked into action, and my brain took over again. I ignored his moanings of pain (which wasn't an easy thing to do). I asked him again if he wanted an ambulance. He told me it wasn't necessary and that it was just his elbow that was dislocated. I asked him if this has happened before. He said it happened to his shoulder twice, and they fixed it at the Latham Emergency Care facility. He wanted us to drive all the way to Latham. I figured there must be something closer, but I had no idea where, so it made no sense to drive around looking for something I might not find. Plus it would make a difference where his insurance was taken...and he seemed pretty stubborn in his decision, so I let him make it. I told him to get into the passenger side of the car. He told me he just wanted to rest a while. This wouldn't have been such a weird request except for the fact that it was 23 degrees Fahrenheit with the windchill and there was a dusting of snow on the ground. I told him he would get hypothermia if he rested there, and that he should get into the car. (Plus if there was a chance that he would pass out, I rather he did that in the car.) First he tried to go to the driver side of the car, but then I told him I would drive. I helped him put his seatbelt on. So here we were driving back away from the secret outcrop in central New York, toward the emergency center in Latham, NY. We passed a gas station, I asked him if he was sure he didn't want an ambulance. He said no, keep going. Then again we passed a rest stop on I-90, no, he wanted to keep going. It was a weird experience for me. Kind of like role reversal. I decided to keep him talking...which normally isn't hard to do, but in this case, it was a bit harder. I avoided all the potholes. We discussed the total lunar eclipse, which was taking place that night. And we saw the moon coming up over the horizon as the sun was going down at the opposite end. I may have been able to enjoy it more if I wasn't so worried about poor Gerry sitting in the seat next to me.

When we finally arrived at the Latham Emergency Care Facility, we went inside and waited. Then we got called inside the back room. The lady told me that I should come along so that I could help take Gerry's clothes off. I said, "What? I'm not taking his clothes off!". Gerry found this funny, and then the nurse assured me that I would only have to take the top half off. As we took the layers off of Gerry making sure to support his arm at all times (and mind you there were lots since we were in 23 degree Fahrenheit weather), we started to notice just how huge his elbow had become. His one elbow was twice the size of his healthy one. When I first saw it, my thought was "that better be all muscle"...at which point Gerry pointed out, "well, I do have a fair amount of muscle in my arms". When asked how it happened, the answer was rockhounding. Gerry said that he was backing down the incline, thought that he had reached the bottom, and then sort of lost his footing and fell backwards on his arm. He said he saw it bend back past its natural angle. They took his blood pressure which was skyrocketing. Then the nurse mentioned that this was proof that Gerry was in pain. I looked at Gerry, and Gerry looked at me and we smiled. Then I said, "it's good to know you weren't faking it". He agreed. Then the doctor came in and inspected his swollen arm. The doctor's first thought was that it was both dislocated and fractured. He wanted an X-ray. So Gerry was taken off into another room somewhere in the back while I sat in the examination room and waited. They were gone for what seemed like forever (especially for a completely healthy person trapped in an exam room with who knows what kind of diseases lurking around). They finally came back with the X-ray. His arm was broken in such a way that it was thought that surgery would be necessary to put it back together, but we still had get an expert opinion on that. The bone was frayed out, and the break was separated by a sizable amount of space. They thought it required a pin of some sort. So then we were sent on our way to a hospital of our choice with the X-ray in hand. Gerry then requested to make a few phone calls. He called to cancel a formal Dutch tea for the next day, an eye appointment, and called in sick to work.

Gerry chose Albany Memorial cause he had heard good things about them. So off we went back in Gerry's car with me driving and Gerry giving directions. On the way there, Gerry asked me if we could take a detour to his house to pick up some tapes for his brother and then drop them off at his brother's house in Albany on the way over. I said no, and that maybe he should be worrying about himself right now. When we arrived at the hospital, Gerry walked in ahead of me while I searched the back seat of his car for his house key. I never found it (but later remembered where it was), so I walked back inside to join him in the waiting room. After a short wait, we were brought into the emergency section where we waited in a back room for a doctor to show up. They looked at the X-ray and made an executive decision that surgery would be necessary. They called the surgeon and figured out if the surgery would be the next morning, or next week. (The latter would have involved him going home with pain killers for a week). They decided on the next morning for the surgery. Gerry made a few telephone calls from the room. His biggest concern for the evening was that his mother's bull fight get recorded. He called two of his friends to do this. This ended up being his room for the first night. They finally gave him pain killers. Then they drew blood and put him in one of those skimpy gowns while I was out in the hallway. This is about the time my mother and father came to pick me up. Gerry and I had decided to leave him with his car in the parking lot after discussing it with the nurse. So I went out to his car to transfer my stuff over to my parent's car, and then went back into the hospital to give him back his car keys and the ticket for the parking. I said goodnight, and when home.

November 10, 2003

I called Gerry today to find out how the operation and everything went. He had a four hour operation in which the doctors had inserted a metal screw in his arm to help hold his bone together to help it heal. He woke up as they were transferring him back into his transport bed to see that the doctor had his blood all over his operation gown. This made Gerry feel a bit uneasy. He seemed a bit tired when I called, but since the hospital policy is to wake you up every hour on the hour to see if you are still alive, this didn't shock me. Plus it is really noisy in between those wake up calls. He expects to be in the hospital for the next couple of days while they make sure his pain killers are working. Plus they want to make sure he can do things for himself since he lives alone. The official diagnosis was that he had "shattered" his bone, and had broken his elbow socket. He has a cast on that stretches from his fingers to half way up his upper arm. Our biggest concern at this point is how is Gerry going to get through airport security.

(this article was printed in this newsletter with Gerry's blessing)