So, when we last left off, I was checked into my room. I was told I wasn't allowed to eat anything after midnight. Of course, by then it was 11:30 or maybe 11:40 and my stomach was growling. There's nothing quite like having people listen to your lungs and chest whilst your stomach is yelling, "FEED ME, SEYMOUR!!" And what's worse is that then I look like the fat girl who wants to eat all the time...Which I don't, but it looks bad...But I didn't care. Phoenix left, came home (which is like a 30 second drive), and made me a sandwich. She returned with the sandwich, and as I lay in my hospital bed, chowing down on the best ham sandwich (I don't like ham very much.) I'd ever had in my life, I suddenly thought, "Oh, for the love of God...I'm the fat girl, in the hospital with chest pains, eating a ham sandwich...Who am I? Mama Cass in the making???" (She died of cardiac arrest, not from choking on a ham sandwich, you jerks!) On the plus side, I don't have an awesome singing voice, so I pushed aside my worries and finished my sandwich.
After eating and brushing my teeth, Phoenix decided to head home. I flipped on the television and laid back to sleep. My nurse, Elvis (a Mexican looking lad), came in to check on me. I told him I was tired and would be going to sleep. He made sure I wasn't in any pain and then said he'd be back to check on me. What he failed to mention was that he'd be back in like forty minutes to check on me! I was watching The Best Thing I Ever Ate on Food Network as I was dozing off and I had rolled on my left side and dozed off. Suddenly, there's Elvis, leaning in close to me and I was startled, "What?" I asked, sitting up. He asked, "Are you having chest pains? Shortness of breath?" I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest because the fool had just scared the crap out of me. Most people don't get up in my face when they wake me up...I replied, "No. I was sleeping. I don't feel anything." He said, "Your heart monitor was going off. I'm ordering an EKG. They'll be here in a few minutes." I nodded and sat up since they'd be arriving shortly, whoever they were...
A couple minutes later, a woman comes in, pushing a large EKG machine. She applies more stickers to my chest and abdomen, as though the other fifteen weren't enough, and does her test...Yup, no heart attack. Elvis returns and says, "It wasn't a heart attack...I wonder if one of your stickies is loose..." Yup, the one on my left side had come loose. We could've avoided the 2am EKG!! WTF!? I could've avoided getting groped by yet another hospital staff. Seriously. It's bad enough to be in there, but to have people reaching in and around my gown is a bit disturbing...At least buy me dinner first. So, Elvis gets me all settled in again and leaves.
I no sooner closed my eyes and dozed off then someone comes into my room. I half-open my eyes and see this woman who looked a great deal like Helena Bonham Carter (Yes, the girl who plays Bellatrix Lestrange in Harry Potter and Jonny Depp's love interest in Swedney Todd.) only this nurse was not quite as waif-life as HBC. So, I sit up a bit and ask, "What're you here for?" She smiles and says, "To draw your blood." She had my door slightly open and then proceeded to draw my blood in the light that spilled in from the open door and the dim light from the television set behind her. She chatted with me as she attempted to locate a vein in my arm. After poking me and completely missing the vein, she said, "Sorry about that. I'm going to have to repoke you because I hate digging around in people's arms...It makes me sick to my stomach. Plus, I'm sure they don't like it either." Really? I can't imagine why someone wouldn't like to have another person dig in their arm with a NEEDLE! WTF!? I smiled and said, "Yeah...Please, poke away." She drew my blood from a vein near my index finger on my left hand...Weird. I couldn't believe she did all this in the mostly dark room. She then bid me good night and left. Even as she left, I couldn't stop thinking how much she looked like Helena Bonham Carter...And then I wondered if she was as creepy as the characters HBC always plays...Of course, I fell back to sleep right after that.
Just as I dozed off, a nurse in training came in to take my vitals. She apologized for disturbing me, but she had to make sure everything was okay. I quietly let her take my vitals. It was like 2:45am by then. After she left, I yanked the sheet up and tried to go back to sleep. I was so beyond exhausted. Out of nowhere, (at like 3:30am) this other nurse comes in, flips on the light, sees I had been sleeping and turns it back off. "Hi, I'm here to give you a breathing treatment." I don't do breathing treatments. I have minor asthma that acts up when I'm sick...Or when I smoke too much...Or perhaps after running. I had been sleeping. I didn't need a treatment. I was all, "Okay...Who ordered this?" She said, "Everyone gets them." She hooked it all up and then handed me the pipe-looking thing and had me breathe deeply. This went on for like 5 minutes. I felt high by the time we were done. I felt light-headed and out of it. As I did the treatment, she had been leaning against my sink texting wildly. After she finally left, I laid back only to have Elvis come back in, "You okay?" I said, "I'm fine. Just exhausted." He smiled and said, "Okay. Did you ask for the breathing treatment?" I said, "No. She said everyone gets them." He shook his head and said, "Oh, okay." Apparently, not everyone gets them.
I finally went back to sleep and I have no idea who else came in my room or what they did to me as I slept. I was so fucking tired that the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade could've walked by and I wouldn't have noticed. At 5:30, Elvis came in to give me my thyroid medication. I thanked him and passed back out. At 6, a nurse came in to check my vitals. At 6:30 a man came in who looked like my World History teacher from high school (Yes, folks, I am speaking of Mr. Samuels with his crazy curly hair.). He said, "I need to draw your blood. Your last sample wasn't very good. The red cells were bursting, so we couldn't accurately test it." He then stabs me in my arm with a needle, takes the blood, and is gone. I wasn't impressed with him because he did it with the lights on. I fell back to sleep for a couple of minutes before the new nurse came on shift. He came in my room and put his name on my board and said, "Oh, good morning" when I looked over at him. Really??? I need sleep, you fuckers! Well, that's what I wanted to say, but only thought it. I laid there, staring at the ceiling until another nurse in training came in to check my vitals. She said, "I'll be quick." As she hooked me up, she said, "I hate these machines...There are so many wires. Sometimes I get them mixed up." REALLY!? The machine has a blood pressure cuff, the thing for your finger, and a thermometer! I said, "So, I take it you don't run the EKG machine?" She smiled at me and said, "No." I pointed out that that machine had a buttload of wires. After she left, I gave up on sleep.
Phoenix came back at like 8:15am. She was all freshly showered and in clean clothes, while I felt like something the cat had dragged in. I made her go home and get me shorts to put under my gown since they were going to make me do a stress test. I just couldn't bring myself to be on the treadmill with my undies showing. I got my blood drawn yet again. This time by some old lady who had no trouble finding a vein in my arm. She didn't even leave a bruise, unlike the Mr. Samuels look alike who left me a bruise on my arm, which made me look like I was in an abusive relationship. Not long after she came back with them, they took me down to the treadmill. The doctor started asking me questions about where I worked and stuff and as soon as I told him where I worked, he was like, "Oh! That's the only credit card I use!" Then him and the tech wouldn't stop asking me questions about how the cards work and are they worth it. Really, bastards? I'm trying to jog on this treadmill in non-slip socks, in a gown, with shorts, and no bra. This isn't a shining moment in my life. Stop talking and let me get through this! Instead of going off on the ignorant bastards, I answered their questions. The tech tried telling me that they had solicited him for the "Black Card"...Okay, to get the black card, you have to spend like $250,000 with us, annually...And have great credit and like a billion dollars in your wallet at all times. Seriously. You have to be super rich. Think like Jay Z rich. I said, "Really? That card is like $2500 a year, plus a $5000 start up fee." He said, "No, they offered it to me for less." I said, "So they offered you a platinum card." He insisted it was the black card....*rolls eyes* He wishes. It's funny to see little men with big dreams...The black card. HA!
So, after jogging, and giving myself a couple of black eyes because we all know big girls shouldn't do anything bra-less, especially jog, I was told I passed the test. The doc said, "I don't think you had a heart attack. Everything is fine. I'm going to suggest they release you." Oh, okay, that's awesome, but what was causing the pain!? I was taken back to my room by the tech and a friend of his, and together, they were like Dumb and Dumber. Really. I worry about ever going back to the hospital after seeing the people who work there. I mean, I know my friends and we can be a goofy bunch, but I think we'd do better there than these goons.
Finally, it was decided that I was to be discharged. As I waited, Phoenix began to worry because she missed work that day, but there was training she didn't want to miss, which was at 1pm. At noon, she was convinced she wouldn't make it. I suggested she go and I would just walk home, but she said, "You can't walk home!" *rolls eyes* My heart works just fine! The doctor came in and talked to me. He said, "Well, your heart is all right. You may want to follow up with your own doctor." I explained that the heart doctor had said it could be my pancreas. He agreed and then started going on and on about something before asking, "Do you smoke?" I said, "Nope." Then I added that I had quit almost two years ago. He said, "Oh, well, we do see this in ex-smokers. They get chest pains for no reason." Seriously? It's the mystery of the ex-smoker? Ex-smoker's disease, which causes random chest pains like a heart attack? Okay, moron. Where the hell is Dr. House??? I'd settle for Dr. Grey or Dr. Bailey. Actors could do a better job at diagnosing me with something!
I was finally able to put on my real clothes and my beloved bra again to go home. They told me I had to wait for someone to come get me. The person they sent was this old lady who weighed like 90 pounds soaking wet. Really? Grandma is going to push me all the way downstairs to my car? Are you kidding me? Oh yeah, grandma did it too, took me all the way to my car! She told me at my car, "I'm not going to be able to help you out of the chair." I said, "That's okay. I'm fine, really. I could've walked out." She said, "Oh no. You're not allowed to walk out." *rolls eyes* I should've pushed her out in the wheelchair...
At long last, I got home and was able to take a shower. I felt disgusting! Hospitals are so gross! I mean, there's so many germs and God only knows what else there. I refrained from scrubbing up with some steal wool and Comet and settled for a hard scrubbing with my body wash...Still, I felt gross. It was great to be home though. I was able to sleep without people poking me or doing EKGs. And after all that, we still have no idea what caused the pains...Next time, I'm not going to the hospital unless I'm convinced I'm dying...*rolls eyes* Those guys are morons, I'm telling you!! And the best part is that my arm had a bruise from the Mr. Samuels wanna-be who drew my blood, a bruise from the blood pressure cuff they used, and marks from the stickers, which I'm apparently allergic to. The sticker marks are still there after a week...Nice, huh?
No comments:
Post a Comment