Drag King Icon’s Dramatic Stage Accident Leads to ER Adventure at SF General
BY ANNA BERGMAN
Fudgie Frottage photo by Heidi Calvert
Drag King legend Fudgie Frottage was rushed to the ER after he fell off the stage at Wild Side West on Monday, March 17.
Frottage was hosting the Annual St Paddy’s Day show at his favorite neighborhood dive bar when the incident occurred.
The number was a passionate piece with Fudgie singing live “Drop dead… drop dead…Nazi” to the tune of “Zombie” by the beloved Irish band, The Cranberries.
During the outro of the song Fudgie began furiously stabbing a large Trump pinata with a retractable prop knife, but before he could gut the paper mache POTUS, he tripped on a mic cord and fell to the floor. Realizing he could not stand up, he yelled “smash that MF!” Audience member, Jenny B. ‘The Shady Lady’ grabbed it by the ankles and slammed it onto the floor while the crowd went wild. A cornucopia of candy spilled out including rainbow jawbreakers, sour balls ,and gummy worms, as well as anti-swastika stickers.
Fudgie was lifted up off the floor and helped into a car by gearhead artist Andy Moraga who drove to Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center (ZSFG)
They arrived about 9pm, Andy grabbed a wheelchair for Fudgie and the ordeal commenced.
You can help Fudgie return to the stage by donating to his GoFundMe right here.
“Since moving to SF in the Summer of 1977, I have heard countless horror stories of trips to the ER at SFGH, now ZSFG. Tales of crowded waiting rooms with outrageously long wait times were abundant. The infamous Barbie Doll Head ingestion stories, the gunshot victims, plane crash casualties, all end up at 1001 Potrero Ave, known for its 4 star trauma unit,” Fudgie explains to me.
Infamous Barbie Doll Head ingestion story
He continues, “It’s like this: Step 1: Pass through security and metal detector. Step 2: Check in – as a MediCal patient I was already in the system, so no lingering there, no need to show ID, just confirm birthdate and phone number. Next I was wheeled over to a waiting area and told that this was an especially busy night with at least 50 people ahead of me. The person sitting next to me smiled and said ‘Hi.’
‘Hello,’ I replied. ‘What are you in for?’
‘I’m here to 5150 myself.’ said the friendly young man.
So, there I was, surrounded by aspiring rubber room residents — some things never change.”
About an hour later Fudgie was screened by the intake nurse. He asked for some ice packs as the latex gloves filled with ice cubes from the bartender at Wild Side had long gone tepid.
Ouch!
Fudgie continues, “I was by far the best dressed guy in the ER, passersby nodded their approval, or chatted me up, one asked jokingly if I were a leprechaun. I used the attention to ask for fresh ice packs as needed, I know I went through at least a dozen. My wrist was turning all kinds of shades of red. The pain was throbbing and intense, the bone looked curved, like a sink trap, it was extremely swollen. My leg was stiff, I couldn’t lift it, the knee was swollen but it didn’t hurt the way the wrist did. Turned out to be a fractured tibia but not broken clear through like my radius bone was.”
Next Fudgie overheard the husband of a pregnant woman with a valid complaint, “We’ve been sitting here for seven hours and my wife is in her third trimester, she needs to lie down, can you please help us?” A team of nurses ushered them off to the maternity ward.
Meanwhile Fudgie and Andy continued to wait. At 6:00 AM Fudgie was given two Tylenol and a cup of water then moved onto a gurney and wheeled to yet another hallway waiting area.
The nurses chatted with Fudgie about what would soon happen next: x-rays, CT scans, and finding an available room to have his wrist set. Lidocaine, IV pain meds, social worker liaison, and physical therapist advice were all about to happen.
“Let’s get your pants off for a knee x-ray – here’s a hospital gown,” said one of the nurses.
“OK,” Fudgie responded, “but let me first explain to you that I was performing at a Drag Show and that I am wearing a packer…a prosthetic penis.”
During our talk Fudgie says to me, “Not that nurses in the ER haven’t seen it all, but fortunately for me I was wearing a cute crocheted packer by Craig Pop Artist, so when the nurses saw it they laughed and said ‘Lots of the nurses here crochet,’ so I replied ‘Great, now they can start a new side-hustle.’
Fudge’s dog playing with the crocheted packer
Upon his return from x-ray and CT scans, a senior nurse successfully ported Fudgie with an IV catheter after the younger nurse failed to nail any of his old dodgy veins.
Finally, around 9:00 AM Fudgie is wheeled into a room, a doctor enters and explains the procedure: Lidocaine injection into the wrist to numb the area; portable x-ray machine to monitor the broken bone setting; IV pain meds…
Fudge goes on:
“That liquid dilaudid, did the trick…finally some relief from the intense pain, the anti nausea meds, the suspension of my wrist from a tall stainless steel stand by my fore and middle fingers, with the weight of my arm itself and gravity stretching the wrist bone; 20 lbs weights added to the crook of my arm to pull the forearm more as the doctor compressed my wrist with his hand, we watched as the serrated bone was slowly put back into place. My brain picked up the signal of reattachment and the pain subsided even more – what a huge relief. Too bad the anti nausea meds didn’t work for very long – ‘Pass the barf bag, please.’
I only had water in my stomach and two bites of a processed turkey sandwich on white bread that for some reason the nurses offer as a snack to everyone complete with apple juice. I can’t remember ever eating a turkey sandwich for breakfast, but I was hungry after waiting all those hours. The vegetarian option is a PBJ sandwich which is the better choice until projectile vomiting becomes an issue. PB is quite sticky on the rebound.”
Fudgie sat in his room watching cable TV waiting to speak with a social worker and physical therapist before he could be released. Once he arrived, the social worker said, “Don’t bend your leg, stay in the wheelchair – I am Damian your PT, I will show you how to maneuver yourself to and from the chair to the commode and from the chair to the bed.”
Fudgie continues the story, “Meanwhile the social worker questioned me to set a plan for my recovery. Since I live alone and am low-income I qualify for IHSS, Meals on Wheels, various modes of free transportation and such. Afterwards this discussion I asked, ‘Ok, can I go home now?'”
The nurse responded, “Before we release you we have to call to arrange medical transport.”
To which Fudgie responded, “No thank you, Andy can carry me up the stairs, we will be fine, I don’t weigh much, I’m not very tall – he lifts heavier loads all day at his job.”
Apparently, x-ray technician was a doll, as was the doctor, who pulled up some study to show Fudgie how long it took to pass a Lego that was swallowed on purpose. He also grossed Fudgie out by discussing how people can swallow a razor blade and live through it.
About the whole experience at ZSFG, Fudgie had this to say, “They should have tylenol in candy dishes at the front desk and why is it that Zuckerberg feeds his Wagyu cattle a diet of macadamia nuts, while all I get at his hospital is processed turkey on white bread?”
You can help Fudgie return to the stage by donating to his GoFundMe right here.
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