Sick of Being Sick!
Hello, Faithful Readers! Once again, I have let quite a bit of time pass between posts. Sorry about that, but this time I have a really good excuse. A legitimate, unarguable excuse.
I was sick. Really sick. We're talking "ride-to-the-emergency-room-in-an-ambulance" sick.
It started last week, when, all of a sudden, I was hit with a horrible pain in my abdomen. This pain was accompanied by, to put it politely, me puking my guts out. I was also sweating like a stevedore and shaking like a Mexican space shuttle. Now normally, I try to avoid going to the doctor, especially when I don't feel good, but these symptoms were too painful to ignore. So, off to the hospital I went.
I learned one thing from my stay at the hospital: If you are sick, the hospital is the last place you want to be. If you already feel crummy, the hospital and its staff will make you feel even crummier.
It starts when you arrive at the emergency room. Before any doctor examines you, someone from the finance office comes to examine your health coverage. If you somehow make it past this crucial exam you are wheeled in your gurney to an isolated spot in the hallway since, "all the examination rooms are full". Don't worry, though, "the doctor will see you shortly". I realize that "shortly" is a relative term to a hospital staff, since my wait was about an hour and a half. I'd hate to see what "a while" means to them.
After the doctor gave me a quick look-see, and (finally!) gave me something for the pain, I was wheeled into an exam room, and was forced to change into a rather revealing "johnny". These outfits are the great equalizer. Everyone, man or woman, young or old, feels like a complete fool in these things. They do ensure that you stay in you bed, though. If you try to walk around in them, everyone you pass will get a nice peek at your "naughty bits". Not pretty.
After waiting around a bit (bit=1+ hour), I was told they were going to run some tests on me. I was stuck with all kinds of sticky plastic things that connected to wires that were connected to monitors of some sort. I don't really know what these tests revealed, since the nurses said I would have to ask the doctor, and I never did see the doctor again in the ER after our first brief encounter. Something must have been wrong with me though, because I was told I would be spending the night. I would be given a room, "as soon as one became available". One finally became available at 4 a.m. While I was glad to finally have a bed to crash in, I was concerned that a room opened up for me at such a strange time. What had happened to the former occupant? Surely they didn't decide the patient was cured in the wee hours of the morning and checked them out. Did they pass away? Escape? I tried not to think about it.
So I finally had a place to sleep. If I could have slept, that is. Sure, my roommate (who was admitted for alcohol poisoning and was quite verbal about not wanting to go to rehab) was a tad noisy, but he was nothing compared to the nurses! All night long, blabbing in the hallways, banging carts and barging into your room at all hours and flipping on the lights. I have been in quieter kindergarten classes! I literally got no sleep.
Fortunately, they eventually discovered the source of my pain, and I was able to get the @#%* outta there and go home. Unfortunately, as of this writing, they are dragging their heels about what kind of treatment I should get.
Don't worry about me though, Dear Readers. I feel pretty good today. Rocco the Wonder Dog and Perfect Wife are better nurses than the ones I had at the hospital. Hopefully, my health will return 100%, and I can begin to suppress the memories of the past week.
Unless I need a follow up visit...