Along comes the lightning to show me the truth.
I should know better by now, hunh?
Things were looking up, I was looking forward… so of course, I didn’t see the bus coming up behind me that had plans of rolling over the top of me.
I’ve been sick for about 2 weeks now… starting with the flu, it morphed into an upper respiratory infection. Snotty bobblehead in extremis, I’ve been coughing, fevered, exhausted, stuffed up and generally miserable for a while.
Ok, so far, I’m still able to deal… so here comes the kicker.
Thursday night, I went to bed early. And woke up an hour and a half later with extreme chest pains, located directly behind my sternum.
Thinking it was probably just acid reflux, I took some meds, thinking – ok – 20 minutes or so, and I can go back to bed. Right?
Woke up at 12am – still in extreme pain at 1:30 am. Feeling like someone was attempting to yank my heart out through my back, I decided I’d best get a professional opinion.
I’m not waking up EldestDaughter. She’s got the toddler, so she’d have to get him dressed, drag him along at Zero o’clock, and sit and wait with the baby in a waiting room for godknowshowlong. No. OnlySon has school in the morning too, and has been sick, right along with everyone else in the house, so – no.
So, I drove myself to the emergency room.
Drugs, tests, more drugs, more tests… they talked about a possible pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lung). Let’s do an EKG, shall we? Ok, no blod clots. So far, so good. So why am I still in excruciating pain?
Well… let’s do a CT scan, really up the game, here, hunh?
God-awful freezing cold room, with a dye test that makes you feel as though your insides are on fire and you’ve peed yourself. Good thing I’m so tired at this point and so full of pinholes from IVs and blood tests that I no longer care whether I’m some mad scientist’s latest class project.
Oh, at this point, it’s approximately 4am, and I’ve been in the ER for about 2 hours, still in pain, going on an hour and a half of sleep, and all alone.
CT scan over… they roll me back to the ER, and back behind my protective curtain. Wavering in and out of consciousness, between exhaustion, fear and drugs, I wait to hear back from the doctors, wait for a glass of water from a nurse that I can hear.. just on the other side of the curtain… playing FAMILY FEUD with her co-workers.
Hey! Let’s do an ultrasound, shall we? Just for shits and giggles?
Fine. I no longer care.
Lucky, lucky me, I have a hiatal hernia – AND a super nice collection of gallstones.
At 6:30am, I’m desperately trying to reach my work before my phone goes dead. I need to let them know that I’ve been here, in the ER, and won’t be in to work today. I’m still in excruciating pain… the pain meds they’ve given me only last for about an hour, then the pain is back, shinier and sharper than ever. But… it’s not a heart attack, so it’s all good, right?
Here. A pack of papers telling you that you need to talk to a surgeon within the next few days. Take some acid reducers to help with the GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease – super-duper heartburn) Change your diet, don’t drink pop (haven’t had pop in months, thanks, stop looking at me like that).
Ok, here you go, get dressed and see ya later!
A never-ending series of ironic shifts, twisted plot lines and WTF moments.
Only way to go from here is forward. It’s a good thing I’m resilient. (Read – too stubborn to stop)