I voluntarily woke up without benefit of alarm, assistance or screeching at 5:00 a.m. this morning. And this would have been a good thing except for the excrutiating pain on my right side. Because there was a good reason for some discomfort, I originally thought that it was just something that would subside. Alas, no...quite the opposite.
Truth be told, I had some normal cramps, and I DID take a yoga class last night (I can hear you laughing) after I walked for 21 minutes (but who's counting) on the treadmill last night with Dave (Grohl of Foo Fighters on the iPod). But last night seemed quite normal, and dinner was a vegetable plate with honeydew melon for dessert...so food funkiness was immediately dismissed.
So, Big Dave was sitting in his office reading "The Drudge Report" or something equally fascinating, and I sat in the room with him starting to feel worse by the second. After ten minutes of trying to locate the heating pad (we never did find it), I spoke the words that Big Dave has never heard from my lips in 24 years of marriage..."I want to go to the emergency room."
So, off we went...with Big Dave unintentionally hitting every single pothole between our house and the hospital. Note to self: Have Big Dave check the shocks on his truck.
Once we arrived, I was one of two patients waiting to be seen. There were three or so in rooms already. Someone later told me that I picked a good day for this as they had been slammed with the H1N1 virus recently.
David got me registered and I sat in a room feeling like someone had rewired my right side. I looked up and saw my nurse - in pink - and knew that everything was going to be okay. She asked my weight...I didn't lie...and by the grace of God, Big Dave was outside parking the truck at the time. So yay for me for being honest...but I will go ahead and admit that the Probate Office people will NOT get total honesty when I go in this week or next to renew my license. It expired Sunday.
In a few minutes, I was given a combination of a pain medication, an anti-nausea medication and morphine. Their first impression was that it was a kidney stone. After doing an x-ray and some scan in a thing that looked like a doughnut, they took blood, started an IV, and left me there for about two hours. The technician looked like she could have been in the Miss Universe pageant, and I asked her if she was like a former Miss Venezuela or something. She laughed. In fact, every single nurse I encountered all day looked like a beauty queen. The guys...not so much. I, in contrast, noticed to my horror, that some leftover makeup had made its way down...giving me a discernable racoon thing going on along with the unkempt hair that is my trademark in the early morning hours. Truth be told, though, after brief reflection (and cleaning out the mascara tracks) was that I truly did not care at this point.
I was later told that I had to have some horrific test involving words like "dye" and "enema" to make sure that my appendix was okay. Miss Universe (bless her heart) had to help me through that one, and on my fifteenth apology, she said, "hey, no worries, it is all part of the job." I am SO glad that there are people who are called to work in the medical field, because if I had been where she was today...my response would have been..."Waiter! Check, please."
After another two hour nap which was briefly interrupted by the sound of Big Dave mumbling..."I wonder what's going on"...the doctor blew in. As I sat up, I realized that A) The meds were wearing off and B) I had the mother of all caffeine headaches. I heard part of what she said, and it was something about...gallstones blah blah blah...cysts blah blah blah...here's your Loratab prescription and something for nausea. See Dr. Somebody about the gallstones and call your OB/GYN about those cysts.
So, I've just gotten rid of the headache (thanks, Advil and a diet coke from the dollar menu at McDonald's) and I'm going to bed for awhile now. It will be an exercise in futility as I cannot sleep during the day.
My sweet Mama wanted to drive over here to take care of me and my precious daughter wanted to drive down from Tuscaloosa to see me. I feel loved. But unless I start feeling worse than I do right now...I plan to go to work tomorrow.
Anyway, that's my story of the ER. Not too sexy...but it didn't end in an admission or surgery...at least not yet...which totally works for me. Later!