Archive for August 23rd, 2008

Not Again!

Saturday, 8/23  

Thursday, John & I, were planning a long day, so we wanted a early start. We got up early and headed out about 7:30. We planned on having breakfast before driving north to see a few of the sights up near Spearfish, Lead & Deadwood. (SD)

We stopped at the Colonial House, which is nice restaurant a few miles down the road from us on SR 16 here in Rapid City. We were feeling fine and looking forward to a nice breakfast. We ordered and was chatting, waiting for our food.

About this time, I noticed that I had started to sweat, and I mean it was pouring off of me, I started to get nauseous, my guts started churning and I was beginning to think about heading to the ladies room,  I was feeling really bad. I laid my head back on the back of the booth, it was all about me now. John was getting very concerned.

Now our waitress brought our food to the table, of which I instantly pushed to the center of the table. For some reason, probably because she was busy trying to flirt with John, she didn’t notice that I was sick.  I hate her!  She walked off after aiming cheerful comments toward John. 

She left,  meanwhile, I sat up and immediately dropped my head onto the table, I groaned. I was beginning to hyperventilate, or rather, I realized that I was breathing very rapidly. My hands and feet were starting to tingle and I was having trouble thinking. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me! I came up with the conclusion that I was dying of some sort of drug reactions. Since I suddenly couldn’t remember what I had taken in the last 24 hours. I had no clue which over-the-counter drugs I had taken that might be causing the problem. All I knew for sure was that I was probably dying.

Somewhere during this time, John had gotten up and left the table, he came back and told me that there was an emergency room just down the street.  I told him that he would have to help me up, as I was feeling very weak and didn’t know if I could stand up by myself. He helped me to my feet, at which time, I realized that I had to get to the ladies room and in a hurry. As I scurried away down the hall, I realized I didn’t need help walking, I was doing just fine, just don’t get in my way.  In the restroom, I was taking care of business,  every few minutes, John stuck his head in the door, asking if I was all right. Finally, two ladies came in and checked up on me. I was really embarrassed, the room smelt really bad. Even as sick as I was, I knew that.

Finally, we were on the way to the emergency room. When we pulled up to the emergency dock, two security guys came running over and brought a wheelchair, which I sort of fell into. John said they probably came over because of the look of panic and confusion on his face.

The hospital turned out to be a teaching hospital, questions and more questions, first from the nurses, then a student doctor, who was very close to getting her papers, or whatever they call it when they graduate to doctor. Well she said something like that.,  She had even more questions. Why wouldn’t they just let me die in peace!

God it was cold in there! I kept asking for more blankets, of which they were kind enough to bring and cover me with. Finally, I had so many on me that the radiologist ask if there was someone under that pile of blankets. Why wouldn’t they just let me die in peace!

Finally, the real thing appeared! A real doctor, he seemed to know everything that I had told the student doctor (that’s what her name badge called her). After starting a IV, (of which it took two nurses and three sticks), lots of blood drawn for tests for all kinds of things, X-rays, much prodding and pocking, the doctor came back and told me that my heart was fine. Hey, I hadn’t thought of that! 

His conclusion was that I had had a small bowel obstruction caused by a intestinal kink and that it had suddenly released, causing the above mentioned symptoms. He wrote orders, giving me IV fluids, some medication to calm my roaring insides. Finally, he released me to go home, with the instructions that if my symptoms came back I was to come back to the hospital immediately.

Needless to say, we didn’t get to complete our planned activities of the day. Oh well, life goes on. What is that saying about the plans of mice and men…….

Keeping count…….   So far since March 3, 08, I have had five trips to a ER. Count them…  two surgery’s,  two more hospital stays for Diveriticulitis and now this last event. I’m done, its your turn now to support the medical community!

For those of you who care deeply, I still do not need anyone to come and take care of me! If I did, it would be my beloved little sister, who so happens to be a very experienced RN. And I can beat her up!!!  (Yes, I planned it that way, so I would have a very knowledgeable person to take care of me in my very old age, probably sometime after I turn 110) and if I didn’t like what she was doing I could make her stop!!!

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