On Christmas Eve, my mother and I went to the local Monoprix to buy some groceries and other supplies for our annual family Christmas dinner. We decided to eat lunch at the cafeteria inside the store. Anyway, I had wanted to introduce my folks to some of the people that work at the cafe there, in the name of building relationships. My mom ordered a steak haché (basically a hamburger patty without the bun) and I ordered a regular steak. I asked for it medium, which in France is more like asking for it rare.
When I got the steak, it was quite rare. I could tell the staff there was very busy, not surprising since it was Christmas Eve, and probably rushed in grilling it. I didn't care, though, because I was in a hurry, and on a mission to finish my last-minute Christmas shopping and get back home with my mom so we could cook this dinner before our guests came that night. So I wolfed down my steak.
Later on that night I regretted ordering that steak as I began to feel nauseated, my stomach very upset and my body feeling "crevé" (exhausted). I think weeks of non-stop preparations for Christmas, tourism and playing host as well as language interpreter was taking its toll! After a pleasant evening of good food, Christmas carol singing, and fellowship, I crashed after our 2 guests left, close to midnight. I didn't even have the strength to open up my own presents afterwards, one of my sisters having to do it for me.
The next morning on Christmas Day, all I wanted to do was stay home and sleep. I asked my folks if they could just go out on their own while I rested. We agreed we would just meet up later that evening for Christmas Mass at Sacré Coeur in Montmartre. I didn't eat anything except for one piece of baguette bread with some Nutella. I slept almost entirely the whole afternoon, managing to send out the one Christmas greeting I had time for via email.
At around 4pm, I drag myself out of bed and get myself ready to meet my family at Montmartre for Mass. "It's Christmas, after all! I just have to go to church," I said to myself, ignoring my body telling me that perhaps I should just stay home and rest.
The nausea and queasiness returns with greater force as I make my way to Porte de Versailles for the Line 12 Metro (that's my stop). I hunker down in the train, close my eyes and try to sleep. But I can feel the pain and nausea getting worse with each stop we pass. I start to feel dizziness and a desire to just throw up rise within me. I strongly consider getting off at an earlier stop just so I can maybe throw up and feel better.
Finally, I get off at my stop for Line 12: Abbesses. From here, I can take the Funiculaire de Paris, an incline car that takes people at the bottom of the hill of Montmartre to the top where the basilica, Sacré Coeur, is. Katrina is waiting for me at the top there. My parents and Caryn, my other sister, have already gone inside the church for Mass.
I try to navigate through the hallways of the Metro stop at Abbesses, but I feel the dizziness overwhelm me, and my vision getting a little fuzzy. Looking back, I don't even remember what I saw or where I was going. I do remember, however, being doubled over in pain when I took the elevator to exit the Metro. I remember two guys in there looking at me probably wondering "what's wrong with her?".
And then that's the last thing I remember before I fainted. The next thing I know I am on the ground, lying on the left side of my body, right before the last set of stairs that leads to the exit. There's a French woman wearing what looks like a baseball cap that says "Paris" trying to help me (probably another tourist visiting the city for the holidays?). She is saying repeatedly in French "It's ok, Madame, don't worry, everything is going to be alright, don't worry." There was a lot of blood on the ground from the impact. I apparently landed on the left-center side of my mouth. I must have blacked out right before the fall because I don't even remember how I fell.
Paramedics (SAMU) came and were able to pick up 2 of my teeth from the ground and put them in a rubber glove filled with water. They then lifted me out of the Metro @ Abbesses. I am convinced that God gave me the clarity of mind and calm to explain to them that my family was waiting for me not far from here at the top of the Funiculaire, and that they will really, really worry if they take me directly to the hospital before they're informed of the situation. Thank God, they understood this and were gracious, driving to the top of the hill to look for my family.
Here is how I see how God was with me and cared for me and my family despite the negativity of the situation:
*When the ambulance arrived at the top of Montmartre, they were able to quickly find Katrina from among the crowd so I could be reunited w/my family.
*My folks and sisters were able to squeeze into the ambulance with me so they could come with me to the hospital.
*My team leader, Jim, was gracious to leave his own family to join my family (bless his heart, on Christmas day, and coming from the opposite end of town), at the hospital so he could translate for them while I was being treated.
*My folks and I were not freaking out. At least not visibly! Despite being in a foreign country and not knowing the language, my parents and sisters remained calm during the entire evening.
*My sister was able to contact some friends from work and BSF so they could pray for me.
*We didn't have to wait hours upon hours for me to get looked at. In fact, when I went to the 2nd hospital, the dentists there took me in right away.
*Surprisingly, I wasn't in any pain with my mouth, although still a little nauseated in my stomach.
From what Katrina, my sister, told me later, it looks like someone had just kicked my teeth in. I said I looked like a beat-up hockey player.
I ended up having to go to 2 different hospitals, the 2nd one because it was the only one that had emergency dental care. They found that I had fractured the bone of my upper gum. One of my 2 front teeth was knocked out completely (#21), the other severely bent backwards (#11), another tooth cracked in half and also came out (#24), and a 4th tooth twisted out of place (#12).
Thankfully, they were able to put 3 out of the 4 teeth back in place. So right now I have a gap in the upper-left part of the inside of my mouth. They also put a temporary brace in my mouth and some glue, what my current oral surgeon calls "un contention", to keep the teeth that they replaced together and stable.
It's around midnight and my family and I are in a taxi to go home. My sister and Jim go separately to pick up meds that were prescribed by the doctors at one of the few late-night pharmacies open in the area. My lips were puffy for about a week and the left side of my face quite tender to the touch.
A few days after Christmas, I went to see an oral surgeon who I'm going to still for work on my teeth. Although there is a strong possibility I will need dental implants for all 4 teeth, it is still possible that I'll be able to keep the other 3 that were put back. I pray!
At the time of writing this, the swelling has gone away for the most part. The left side of my face is no longer as sensitive, but the part above my upper lip is still a bit. The dentist I go to now feels optimistic that I may be able to keep my teeth, but only time will tell. For now, I just need to keep my mouth clean w/frequent Listerine rinses, and avoid eating on the left and middle part of my mouth. And lots of prayer!
Although, as you can tell from the detailed length of this blog post, this fall was slightly tramautic for me, I know things could have been so much worse. I'm also not worrying about the outcome, i.e. about if I'll have to get 3 implants or just 1 and all the cost that will entail, because I know He will work all things for my good (Romans 8:28), even if they don't end up as I expect.
This pic taken by Katrina. Feeling a little "snaggle-toothy" a few days later the accident.
Back on the Metro a few days after the fall on Christmas. You can't tell I fell too much, but the mouth and left side of my face is slightly puffy.
