Home ... Again ...

As per my usual 'back-from-a-trip-home-survival-remedy' - I immediately put myself to bed last Monday after we got home from New York to try and not ... what I call 'crash'. Very unpleasant - a visual: getting in a rickety, albeit FAST, go-cart (sans helmet) on a street in San Fransisco and steering straight towards a brick building oh, say right at the bottom of the steepest hill you can find - then HITTING IT - that's pretty much what crashing feels like ...



Hmmmm ....



Didn't work:


The room is DEFINITELY not as nice as the Marriott room we stayed in in New Jersey ... but what are you going to do?

After getting absolutely no fluids or food that didn't immediately come right back up (and with SUCH A GUSTO ...) from Wednesday to Sunday - my only output being the water retention that seems to have started building up in my feet and legs these days (*sigh* - yes, another doctor, another mystery to solve, probably another problem ... but for another day ...). As my feet and legs slimmed down ever so nicely, I realized that I was getting worse and not better and Gary said that it was time - that he should have hauled my barfing self into the ER days ago (true) so off for that fun, filled night full of needles, tests, and waiting -

Oh! the waiting!

Don't I remember that from all of Jessie and my own hospital stays - always, always, always waiting for the doctor to come in - in that fast way they have - give you a quick run down - ask if you have any questions and before you can say "Hell YES!" they are saying "Well, then, we're off" and out the door they breeze!


The IV ... Witch? Vampire? The phlebotomist I was ever so lucky to catch was a very quick, abrupt, unfeeling, non-verbal scary thing of a woman.

I ABHOR, HATE, LOATHE, DESPISE getting IV's.

Why? My veins suck and it is a very delicate, painful thing - which Gary - to this day, bless his soul - has to leave the room for until it is over ....

We got a clue this was the case back when they tried oh, soooo many times to insert a PIC (peripherally inserted catheter) in me when I had Lyme's Disease so that I could administer my antibiotics myself. After blowing vein after vein in my arms - a few days later - after about 5 visits from home care nurses - it was scheduled that a central line be inserted into my chest and I would administer the drugs via that catheter. Oh, so much better! AND I WAS UNCONSCIOUS THE ENTIRE TIME IT WAS INSERTED - HUGE PLUS! Unfortunately that turned out to be a bust also - but it was not the catheters fault! Just my body deciding that it was time to rebel and go into anaphylactic shock and decide not to play with the drugs any more. Big bummer and the reason I have that huge red 'Allergic to' tag hanging round my wrist down there ...

She decided to drill deep in the most tender spot of your inner forearm.

Me: "Ummmm, I'm a hard stick - are you sure there is even a vein there - I DON'T SEE ONE!"

Her:

Me: "Uh - could you wait just a sec and let me take a deep breath, center my... AAAAAGGGGGHHH! OH SHIT THAT HURT! AAAHHHGGGG - WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Her:

Me: Heavy breathing with intermittent sounds of retching ...

Her: "All done, now I need to draw some blood"

Me: "What? Why didn't you pull it out of the IV port before you started the fluid AAAAGGGGHHHH! Seriously WHAT SIZE NEEDLE ARE YOU USING? Is this TOTALLY NECESSARY?"

(More heavy breathing and retching on my part - more humming on her part - Dudes - seriously? I really, really, really think she was having the time of her life ... some people are scarier than I can even conjure up in my wildest imaginations ...)

Her: "All done" Walks out the door

Me: "Thanks .... for nothing you ..." Gary walks in and I SHUT MY MOUTH ...

(Note: Gotta admit - when my electrolytes are wonky, I am in a strange place that smells SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE A HOSPITAL and I am dry heaving into a tiny plastic tub that the phlebotomist keeps tossing her garbage in ... I my tend to get a wee bit ... hmmmm - foul mouthed? OK, to be honest there is a plethora of scenarios where I tend to get a wee bit foul mouthed, this just happens to be high on the list ...)

And - the night fun was just beginning!!! Poor Gary! Having put off letting him take me to the ER until 9:00pm on a Sunday night - thus very late with him having something to do with a grundle of Norwegians and some review that had been set up for months starting the next day up at his office in Greenspoint (far, far away ...) - he went out to try to catch some sleep in the truck - poor, poor guy - I told him I would take a taxi home.

EXACTLY WHAT I HAD DONE THE LAST TIME AN AMBULANCE HAD BROUGHT ME TO THIS VERY ER!!! Gary was living in Australia at the time, I had the unfortunate timing to pass out in a Kroger shopping store getting dog food for my dog to give to my most wonderful friend who was watching her while I flew to Austraila THE VERY NEXT DAY. By the time I woke up with a bevy of concerned faces surrounding me and a very managerial looking guy saying that 'An ambulance has been called, ma'am, just stay calm' and me most likely mumbling ... semi-audibly "Oh, shit ...", I was coherent enough to BEG, PLEAD, BRIBE AND CAJOLE to get out of the ride to the hospital - I WAS FREAKING FINE - just in my own 'special' way ..... No go - and off we went for me to tell them at the hospital in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS THAT I WAS FREAKING FINE! And that I was going home, and could somebody give me the number for a taxi service?

I am not without means! I have ways! I have friends! I am WOMAN hear me roar! OH, sorry that was while they were shoving needles in me. I digress. So - no convincing him to go home and get some real sleep.

While they were out the Fake Doctor? Nurse Practitioner? Got my blood results back and discovered that my white blood cell count was in their terms: "astronomically high" (looked it up - normal - 5000 - 10,000 - me: 21,000 - go me!). So even without any T-Cells to call my own or any sort of DECENT immune system - I CAN MAKE WHITE BLOOD CELLS - BY THE THRASHERS! WHO KNEW? Actually I did - I seem to remember my regular doc mentioning that my white blood cell count was really high last time I had my 3 month blood check with her - (*sigh* - another mystery, another doctor, another bunch of tests and yes, again - another day ... getting older ... and sicker .... sucks ....). So they decided that they needed:

a) More blood - OF COURSE! - so Vampyria the Phlebotomist comes back in with just a wee hint of a smile ...

b) A few more tests -

c) Oh, by the way - one is a test for gastroenteritis - a CT with contrast and you have to drink the crap in these two cups. See two stacked cups the arrow is pointing to? (OK - Waaaay down in the next photo - I tend to get a wee .... verbose ... on too little sleep and in the middle of a FULL ON RANT ...)

And WHO SAYS I CAN'T DO HARD THINGS?

I had taken in - in liquid form in the LAST FIVE DAYS - MAYBE - MAYBE - a half cup of water / gatoraide / slush - which all promptly came back up - and they want me to chug down TWO FREAKING FULL GLASSES OF RADIOACTIVE CRAP and keep it down for TWO FREAKING HOURS until it goes through me and they can take their photos? Seriously?

Took me 45 whole minutes, and a TON of anti-nausea medication - but I got those puppies down - and then waited the TWO HOURS I was supposed to wait before we could do the CT scan every minute working to make sure none of it came back up. A plus? It was so, so crappy going down? I was TERRIFIED of what it would be like coming back up - so VERY MOTIVATED to keep it down!

Success!!! By this point I have sent Gary home and hopefully he was getting some sleep. All he had done for days was listen to me wretch and go buy liquid this and liquid that to see if we could keep any medicine in me (the answer was a spectacular resounding: no).

Got down there and realized that it was a CT scan and not an MRI and that I was going to get that FUNKY contrast shoved in my veins. Eeeek! Dudes - if you've ever had it you know what I'm talking about - if you haven't - RUN FOR YOUR LIVES IF YOUR DOC EVER SUGGESTS IT! When it started spraying all over me - I sighed and had visions of Vampyria starting another IV in some other tender spot on me ... maybe deep in my ankle? My neck? When the sweetie with me told me that no - he had not 'blown the line' as we both had suspected - my IVs top port thingy was not fitting tightly and the (now I know) lovely smelling, sticky crap they pretty much have to shove in your veins at a very high pressure since it is so thick and syrupy was the first time I had that much pressure put on the port to see what would happen. I think I ALMOST have all that sticky crap off me now ....

I do make going to the ER sound fun, now don't I? It's why EVERYBODY is lined up at the doors just DYING to get in !!!!

OK, give me some credit - I have had 3 - count em - three solid hours of sleep since last Wednesday ....

And as a twoofer - this photo not only shows my cups of empty glug - it is my 'Traditional Foot Shot' (angels singing, music playing ...):

After having all the test results come back that were coming back today - the blood cultures take days - I was told that I was a mystery - go to my REAL doctor - tell her you have something seriously wrong with your white blood cells (have them call us if they would like to have us verify your freakishness in person ...) and go figure it out your own damn selves - now your are discharged .... go away.

OK.


Blink.



Blink.



I yank the IV - DANG!!!! She had hit a GUSHER!!! Right as her wee smiling self walked in to the room to do just what I did meeself ... Apparently she was not pleased with my performance, grunted a bit then grabbed some gauze and proceeded to hold it against the OH SO VERY SORE SPOT where she had shoved her oh, I don't know - 22 gauge needle? about 1/2 inch into that tender spot on my forearm and held it hard - glaring at me the whole time. I subserviently avoided eye contact all the while my lower extremity was getting number and bluer - but was I going to bring this up when I was THIS CLOSE to being out the door? Dudes - not that stupid ... I'll admit I'm pretty stupid - but somewhere in this idiot called 'me' is some sort of self preservation button that pops up when needed and takes control.

A few minutes later she takes off the gauze to show a bloody, bruised mass of tender forearm flesh declares "Good as new." turns and exits the room. I am now rather unsure what the prerequisites are actually to BECOME a phlebotomist .... And it's Halloween! Who knows what she is up to at this very minute!?! But - I don't care! NOT MY PROBLEM ANY MORE!

As the door swung shut behind her, I sighed, tenderly picked up my discharge papers (I am assuming that is what they were - have yet to look at them - she tossed them on the bed when she saw the gusher of blood spurting out of my forearm ...), my Grumpy sweatshirt (What? WHO WOULDN'T WEAR THEIR GRUMPY SWEATS FOR AN EXTENSIVE ER VISIT?), my purse and tip toed down the hallway.

Halfway out the VERY LAST door I hear a very stern - MISS! Assuming I had been nailed escaping the asylum, I turned.

Her: "Last Name?"

Me: "Hurst"

Her: "You are good to go - have a nice day ..."

Nine little words have NEVER sounded better in a very, very long time!


Walked outside into the brisk, dark early morning to sit on a bench while waiting for my most wonderful friend who I most likely got out of bed to come get me so that Gary would make his meeting on time (that AND she had threatened me with something painful if I EVER called a taxi to come get me and she was in town ... EVER again ...).

It was a FABULOUSLY, COOL, BEAUTIFUL morning and I took it all in - it is amazing what a cool morning, a cold hard bench and just a titch of a sense of freedom and control over your own life can do to your soul ....

~~~~~

And since coming home to a seriously ecstatic dog - I have downed 3 of these babies (OK, I'm counting this one and the first one was only half full - so I am lying ...) and ate a boiled egg!

WHOOO HOOOO!

Baby - I'm back! (as I fall into bed breathing heavily from carrying an EMPTY laundry basket to the laundry room!)

I just might live until my doctors appointment on Thursday ...