Saturday 06 August 2005
Another Tale of Horror (a sequel)
This story was foreshadowed in:
Watermelon Punch, the Blog - 20 Jun 2003 | Tales from the House of Horrors:
Back in March, I nearly passed out when this one goof tried to show me my own cat scan films. Dr. Goofy actually led me, unwittingly, into a room overwhelmingly loomingly plastered with a whole wall of photos of my innards! To boot, he gleefully tried to point out the kidney stone and my liver as if we were at an art gallery and he was pointing out some particularly interesting detail of a painting.
I think I remember at some point some medical professional I know saying that the kidney stone would likely "pass" at some point...
Lo and behold, over 2 years later...
Sunday, I wound up in some nasty pain. It didn't take me long to realize what was happening. I mean aside from the pain in my lower back on the side I knew the kidney stone was on... There were other signs. Like pissing blood, for instance.
Naturally, the first person I called was my mother. I always call my mother when disaster strikes, the poor woman.
Naturally, this touched off a fit of hysteria, in which I was frightened half to death, that I needed immediate medical attention.
Of course that was her advice when Nikita attacked my leg by mistake a few months ago when there was a strange cat on the porch. And that was just a minor flesh wound really.
But within another hour, I had to agree, that something might need to be done about the situation. The pain was tantamount to the worst of the 'gallbladder attacks' I had before gettin' that damn organ cut out.
So, I was in a jam to find someone to drive me to the hospital. At that point I heard my neighbor next door. As it happens, he's a doctor at the nearest hospital. My mother always did think it was advantageous that I had a doctor living next door. And since he's moving very soon, I guess it was good timing that I had my medical emergency while he still lived next door.
And to be honest, Dr. Neighbor seemed rather excited about my having a medical emergency in which he could be of some assistance... driving me to the hospital... which is actually a very short ride... Easy walking distance, in fact, if you're in good health, that is. I'm not saying that he necessarily seemed happy about my predicament or anything, I think he just really likes his line of work is all, right?
Luckily, it was a slow afternoon in the ER at the local House of Horrors.
Unfortunately, the IV nurse was not what you'd call hardy. And definitely not in the mood to take direction, or listen to patients at all.
For some reason a lot of medical people just refuse to understand what it's like to be acutely skiddish of sharp instruments coming at a person in order to injure skin and puncture veins. And there's some part of, "I can't control my involuntary responses, please forego the tourniquet and have someone restrain me" that they don't understand, or simply refuse to understand.
A kind and skilled IV nurse accompanied by 2 orderlies can easily get an IV into my hand without a tourniquet or much fuss. But apparently there aren't many of those around.
I'm firmly under the belief now that the top professional requirements for nurses in hospitals these days is lack of patience, a rude and snobby disposition, and the belief that an IV can't be started without harrassing a person with a big rubber band.
I'd hate to be the injured party in a real field emergency situation with some of these people. They'd be completely lost without their kit & checklist, I imagine - or just any situation that deviated even slightly from the exact cold rote to which they've obviously become accustomed. I'm surprised they don't just install conveyor belts in the ER already.
The girl couldn't even make a second try after I jerked once. She wouldn't listen, wouldn't think. Simply asked if I'd be able to swallow something.
So they handed me some pills to swallow. To be honest, I was in so much pain, and so frustrated by this point, that if they handed me a goldfish and told me to swallow it, I certainly would've considered it.
I was very thirsty. But they seemed very very GREEDY with the water in the ER. I had to ask, and Jeanie (once she arrived), had to also, repeatedly request water for me... several times.
I know everything is more expensive in a hospital, but really. You'd swear I was asking for a bottle of Dom Perignon or a gallon of printer ink. It was like they were hoarding the water there, or had to travel to the creek to get it or something.
Not surprisingly, the nurse informed me that water wouldn't do me any good, that drinking water doesn't help a kidney stone pass. Of course this is not true, according to every other medical professional I've consulted since. Including Dr. Neighbor and my friend who is a psychiatrist. And everyone else I've talked to who's had a kidney stone were immediately encouraged to have plenty of liquids.
Then I was sent for a CT scan, which involved being wheeled to another part of the House of Horrors by what I believe is the only friendly person employed by this medical establishment. The young orderly was in an incredibly jovial mood - especially considering his surroundings and his curmudgeon co-workers.
Bless this brave young man, and let him retain his good nature in the years to come! I'm positive he must be incredibly popular with the old ladies. One of which I am NOT... at least not yet. And I worry that by the time I'm an old lady, medical establishments will have completely phased out well mannered and caring health care workers like this guy.
Of course I was left alone in a hallway for what seemed like an eternity, while waiting to get the CT scan. In which time I had kneeled up on the gurney and was wailing and writhing in pain, just as a nurse wheeled a little old woman past me, who likely believed I'd been brought there from the wacko ward.
I guess CT scans are bad for unborn embryos, because they always ask you several times if you're pregnant, and then on top of that, make you sign a form saying you're not.
The CT scan technicians never seem to much appreciate my pat answer to "Are you pregnant?" question... Which is generally, "Not unless it's the Second Coming." I'm not sure if it's because these people are devout Christians and find it offensive, or if they're Christian, but aren't aware that Jesus of Nazareth's mother was The Virgin Mary. (Yes, Mother, I know I'm just like my Uncle Tony.)
According to the CT scan, the ER people said that it "won't be long now".
Clearly "won't be long now" has a very different meaning than what Jeanie or I had imagined it to mean. I think it's like when I say a "tad", what I really mean is "a great deal". I think by "won't be long now", they just meant it'll probably be over sometime before spam on the internet is stopped. I'm surprised they didn't just tell me it would get better before I got married.
I spent the next few hours with Jeanie watching me alternate between writhing around on my sofa and retching bile into a bucket. (Yes, I'm fully aware she deserves a medal.)
After some hours of this, it was clear I was becoming dehydrated very quickly, and was completely unable to swallow even a sip of water, never mind the various pills they had sent me home with.
I remember when I had the gallbladder problem, my pal Dave informing me that going to the ER for my gallbladder pain was a useless excercise because in the ER, you do not get emergency medical attention unless you have an actual tree sticking out of your leg. He had suggested that we ram a tree into my leg, and then upon arriving in the ER, explain that they could deal with the tree later, and attend to my abdominal pain, please.
When he passed a kidney stone, he went to the hospital, and passed it in the men's room before they ever got to do anything for him.
I was kind of hoping that would happen to me when I went back to the ER.
I knew an IV would solve at least some of the problem, and upon being seen, I told them in no uncertain terms, "I WANT AN IV".
But it was not to be.
The nurse this time was particularly snarky. Attitude was dripping off him. He was surrounded by an air of dissatisfaction. His terse manner made very clear he was feeling very put out just having to be there, let alone having to actually take care of a sick person, god forbid.
When I asked that my arm be restrained, it was as if I was trying to order a filet mignon with white wine sauce and a side of fresh steamed vegetables at one of those greasy pizza shops with no chairs on a corner in Manhattan. What could I be thinking?
Even though I was on the verge of passing out, and very nearly did, they just tossed me in a room and left me there for dead for what seemed like an eternity.
Worse, that rat bastard nurse rudely, without asking, confiscated my cup of ice water before leaving, in a hurry. This is the cup of ice water it took me an hour to get. So I was left to writhe in pain, with no liquids when I was finally able to drink a little.
As soon as the pain subsided to a point where I could walk, and I became so thirsty I felt like screaming, I decided I may as well leave and go somewhere I could actually get some liquids.
Upon trying to leave, I closed the door so I could get back into my clothes. In the middle of trying to get the hospital gown off and my shirt back on, Nurse Attitude burst back in the room, raising his voice he ordered me back onto the gurney, and said closing the door was completely out of the question.
So I had to change back into my shirt with everyone in the ER outside the door watching.
What is it with me and having to bare my breasts for everyone in hospitals?
Watermelon Punch, the Blog - 20 Jun 2003 | Tales from the House of Horrors:
It was probably the job of the 20-something young man who I then realized was struggling to get my hospital gown back onto me, which had come clear off in the tumble so that I was sporting full frontal nudity, breasts flopping around untethered and all.
At this point, I think I should be getting tips for this!
Is it just me, or is everyone subjected to such repeated unnecessary indignities in the hospital setting?
Not only that, but one wonders how hospitals take care of anyone at all. Not only were they stingy with the water with a kidney stone patient... But I learned that the antibiotic that they prescribed me there is actually known to cause crystals in the urine!!
Upon leaving the ER for more suitable settings in which to pass a kidney stone, I had Jeanie take me for some lemonade. As it happens, I now learn that lemon juice is actually supposedly a good thing to drink if you have a kidney stone. All I knew is that it would wash away the taste of bile from my mouth, quench my thirst, and I just happen to like lemonade.
So for the next 12 hours I vomited bile every 30 minutes, with Jeanie's 2 white cats coming in the room to stare at me check on me once in awhile throughout the night and day.
At least I know now that my bile duct is definitely not obstructed since having my gallbladder removed. There was a seemingly endless supply of bile for me to retch up. What ticks me off is I wonder where it all is when I decide to eat fried fish, I ask you!
On Tuesday, for some bizarre reason I looked into the mirror for the first time in a couple of days, and screamed in horror!
My eyes were all bloody!!!
My first thought was, OH MY GOD I HAVE EBOLA.
But within a few seconds I realized that it was probably just broken blood vessels from violently retching bile for 24 hours on end.
I was told by several medical professionals I asked that it was nothing to worry about, and would just have to clear up on its own over the course of a few weeks. Weeks! So I'm stuck looking like I have Ebola for weeks, and have to avoid eye contact with everyone so as to not terrify everyone.
There were several times over the week where I thought I was in the clear, only to be sadly and painfully mistaken.
On Wednesday, which was Watermelon Day, naturally I ate a bowl of watermelon.
Well, I was supposed to be having lots of liquids. But man, I guess it really got that stone moving, because I spent the entire night pacing the length of my apartment. After about a half hour of pacing barefoot, I put on rubber sandals. After about an hour & a half of pacing, I put on sneakers. Yes, I was walking my apartment in the middle of the night wearing a t-shirt and sneakers.
So then, after a night and entire morning of no sleep because of pain... I was all exhausted.
But I did not dare miss my dentist appointment, because I have a partially impacted and infected wisdom tooth that's been causing me pain & suffering for the past couple of weeks.
So sleep deprived and still in pain, needing a pee constantly, I set out on the road to the dentist with a cup of lemonade in the drink holder, in 97°F weather, with a car that would overheat if I ran the air conditioner.
Normally, the trip from Scranton to my dentist in Forty Fort would take about 25 minutes. During rush hour, perhaps 35. So just to be on the safe side, I set out at 2:20pm for my 3:15pm appointment.
Little did I know that a major crash had just happened on Interstate 81 Southbound...
Watermelon Punch, the Side-blog - 04 Aug 2005 | bus & suv crash, traffic jam
By the time I saw the traffic stopped up ahead, and realized something bad was going on, I was past the last exit I could've gotten off.
So there I sat, on I-81 South, for TWO HOURS in 9797°F sun beating down weather, in pain, and needing a pee.
There was a point at which I was actually seriously considering peeing into a cup right there in my car on the road. I thought, gee, wouldn't it be weird if I passed the kidney stone right here on 81.
Even once we were diverted off the Avoca exit, Rte 315 was clogged as well, with I-81 traffic. It took me 2-1/2 hours to get to my dentist.
Luckily, I have an extremely nice dentist (Dr. Angela), who took me in at what was the the end of the day for them.
Upon finally arriving home... A trip that ordinarily would've taken 25 minutes, took 45 minutes, because I went "up the line" (Main St./Main Ave.) instead of via I-81...
No, it's not over yet...
My toilet overflowed despite the fact that all I had flushed was about 2 drops of urine and a few squares of toilet paper.
And no, it couldn't have been the kidney stone.
So then I had to spend 2 hours in unblocking the toilet, and cleaning and sanitizing the toilet and the tile floor around the toilet.
And I bet you thought you had a rough week, eh?
And I know after posting Tales from the House of Horrors, I had a lot of people asking how, such an oddly private person as myself, someone with an acute medical phobia, could speak so frankly & openly about their medical adventures.
Well, it's my way of taking back the dignity that the medical establishment always seeks to rob me of so cruelly. Let them be exposed, if I have to be...
As for the kidney stone... No, I don't have a photo of it. Sorry if you're disappointed.
I'm not even 100% sure when it passed, but I think I may have expelled it right before leaving work yesterday.
posted by Chloe | Saturday 06 August 2005 2:43 PM
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