Wintertime in Northern New Jersey is noted for its variable weather conditions. Though snowstorms occur with some regularity, they aren’t a constant problem for the residents. One particular January morning, a Sunday morning to be exact, Jake Rabinowitz, being a dutiful grandfather, had agreed to accompany his son, daughter-in-law and three grandchildren to Newark Liberty Airport in their minivan. Once safely at the airport, Jake was to drive the minivan back to Teaneck and leave it in front of their house. It all seemed so simple, but didn’t exactly turn out that way!

The prearranged pickup time that morning was 7:00 a.m. to allow time to arrive for the 9:30 flight to Orlando. Jake left his home in another part of town at about 6:45 a.m. as a light snow began falling. The car thermometer read 31 degrees as Jake drove down the street on which his son lived. Jake steered his car into the space in front of the large home set near the crest of a steep hill just short of the driveway. Jake’s son and grandchildren were already busy loading up the van for the trip south as Jake emerged from his car. As Jake stepped from the snow-covered street onto the sidewalk to announce his arrival, his legs suddenly gave way and he fell with a loud smack onto his right hip and chest. The impact dazed him, and he could tell that no one was aware he had fallen given the noise of the wind and storm. He took several moments to collect himself and cried for help. At first, preoccupied, no one came to assist him. Jake checked himself to assess the damage he had done to himself with the fall. The impact was so severe that Jake wondered if he had suffered a mortal blow; he made no effort to get up at first. At last Jake’s son noticed that Jake was lying in a heap near the crest of the hill and ran over the short distance to help him. With some effort, and his son’s assistance, Jake was able to stand up and carefully board the minivan.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” asked his son.

Realizing that it was probably too late for his children to make other arrangements for transportation to the airport, Jake, in significant pain, agreed to accompany the family to the airport.

They arrived at Liberty without incident, and within ten minutes, Jake was on his way back to Teaneck at the wheel of the minivan. The storm had increased in intensity, as had the extensive pain Jake felt in his right rib cage and shoulder. He drove home on the turnpike in a most miserable condition. When he returned to his own home about an hour later, he dragged himself past his wife and slumped into bed with some difficulty:

“What happened, Jake?” Bella exclaimed. Jake described his fall and Bella was not happy.

“Why didn’t you come home right away? You actually drove back and forth to the airport in this storm, injured?”

“I had no choice,” was all he could respond.

“Maybe you just bruised yourself, and it’ll feel better in a little while.”

“All I know is that it kills!”

It was Sunday, not a day to suffer injuries; the next day was a federal holiday, so it was clear that Jake’s regular doctors wouldn’t be available for the next 48 hours. The night of the injury, the pain he felt became progressively worse; chest and rib cage movements of any kind were excruciatingly painful: laughing, coughing, sitting up or lying down all started or concluded a new cycle of pain. Jake suffered through the night resolving to get some kind of first aid the next day despite the holiday.

In the morning, Jake made an appointment with a physician’s assistant, who sent him for a series of x rays at a local hospital emergency room. Following those tests, Jake received the news from the PA that he had not fractured any bones, so notwithstanding the unrelenting pain he was in, there was nothing to be done for his condition; to paraphrase what he would hear from all the doctors he visited over the next two months:

“You’ve only bruised some ribs, and we don’t treat ribs; you’ll suffer through the pain, but we can’t recommend anything other than painkillers!”

Jake reluctantly accepted this verdict, because now, almost three days after his fall, the pain he was feeling had only increased despite the painkillers; every breath was an ordeal!

A week went by and Jake finally scheduled an appointment with his family doctor, who in light of Jake’s continued pain and discomfort, recommended Jake repeat the x ray series of his chest. Back to the hospital went Jake for the test. It came as no surprise that later the next day, Jake’s doctor called him at home:

“Jake, I don’t know what to say; the x rays now show that you broke ribs #1, 2, 4 and 6 and the fractures are somewhat displaced!”

“What does that mean exactly?” Jake inquired.

“It means that the breaks were not clean, but I believe you should be fine in time. As you know, we don’t treat rib fractures any differently from mere bruises; no damage to your lungs thankfully!”

At this point, roughly 10 days after the fall, Jake had a definitive diagnosis—not that it made him feel any better. One fractured rib can cause excruciating pain; the fact that Jake had broken four at one time explained the degree of pain he was suffering. The mantra that the doctors treating him kept repeating: “We don’t treat ribs,” was, however, getting a little tired.

It was at about this time that Jake made a rather amazing discovery. As indicated earlier, Jake recalled he had fallen on that snowy day on his right hip as well as his right rib cage, yet he apparently suffered no injury to his hip. Jake noticed that the pair of slacks he had worn at the time of the injury and that he had removed upon returning home that day, had inadvertently fallen behind a chair in his bedroom and escaped detection. As he reached for the slacks to place them in the hamper, he checked the pockets for any valuables. Lo and behold, in the right pocket he discovered the pulverized plastic remains of a large pill bottle that had been crushed when he fell on his right hip, taking the full impact of the fall and apparently shielding his hip from injury. Jake carefully removed the debris from his pocket, thinking how fortunate he was that he didn’t have to face any doctors who might have informed him that, in addition to ribs, they don’t treat hips!

Joseph Rotenberg, a frequent contributor to the Jewish Link, has resided in Teaneck for over 45 years with his wife, Barbara. His first collection of short stories and essays, entitled “Timeless Travels: Tales of Mystery, Intrigue, Humor and Enchantment,” was published in 2018 by Gefen Books and is available online at amazon.com. He is currently working on a follow-up volume of stories and essays.