Thanksgiving day I cooked in anticipation of seeing my boys the next day. My husband and I ate a little of what I cooked and then retired to the bedroom. I picked up the little project I started in Roberta Horton's workshop last summer; the one I attended with mother.
As I was sewing on the last yo-yo I started to feel nauseous and really, really ill.
I drove myself to the ER at 1 a.m. and gave them a most spectacular vomit show. Yes, you read that right. I cannot believe anyone can eject that much from their body twice in one night. The abdominal pain was horrific.
The gave me a shot while I was throwing up, and then hooked me up to IV fluids. Three and a half hours later I noticed the IV bag was still completely full. I had no call button, so I took the pulse monitor off my finger to trigger the alarm so they would check on me. They didn't though.
I finally managed to get someone's attention, and she was really mad about the IV not working.
At 6 a.m. the pain returned. I tried the pulse monitor trick again, but still no response to it, so I started hollering, and it took all I had in me to make enough noise to attract attention. The nurse came in and told me I shouldn't holler like that, since there were a lot of sick people there. Well, damn, I don't think anyone should have to holler for help in the ER. My blood pressure dropped to 80/54 and I broke into a sweat with a "pins and needles" feeling all over me and a burning across my chest; then I passed out.
They gave me more pain medication, and at 7:30 I noticed the IV bag was empty so I summoned them again. I asked about another bag of fluids and the nurse says to me "oh no, you're out of here. We need the room." I said what about what happened before? And she replied "that was just from pain. We're giving you a prescription."
I ran a high fever all day yesterday. I lost track of time. Missed seeing my boys.
Glad to be alive.
American health care is so much better than elsewhere? REALLY!?