This might hurt…just a little.
Less than 48 hours after rushing Mr. Husband to the clinic because of his run in with a Q-Tip we found ourselves right back at that same clinic. This time it was me. About 6:30 am the previous morning my body, for some inexplicable reason, decided to evacuate its entire contents through every available orifice in the most violent manner possible. I couldn’t even keep down sips of water. By that afternoon I developed an excruciating headache, fever, abdominal pain and was becoming delirious because of dehydration.
I was too dizzy and weak to walk on my own, but the Hubman managed to help me dress and stagger from house to car, and then from car to clinic. Not long after that I found myself lying on an exam table with a Doctor scrounging around in my nasal cavity with…a Q-Tip, of all things. She did it to test and verify that I had the flu. Turns out that she was wrong, I didn’t have “the flu”, I guess “the flu” is defined as one of the ones included in the annual flu shot hoe down, but she was concerned because I had a high fever and was dehydrated.
Turns out the clinic cannot administer IV fluids for some reason, so the doctor instructed Hubman to take me to a hospital emergency room. He left me at the entrance to park the car. I managed to stagger to the desk and was giving 587 forms to fill out. At around form 3 my eyes blurred and I couldn’t see even with glasses on and could no longer stand. I slid to the floor dragging the forms with me and my fevered brain began contemplating the patterns in the linoleum. At this point a nurse asked me if I would like a wheelchair. So nice of them to offer.
So began a 5 hour wait for my turn to see a doctor. My head hurt so bad that I couldn’t keep it down to just groans and began sobbing uncontrollably. At some point in there they tried to draw blood and had great difficulty doing so. I managed to remark that since I came there hours before because of severe dehydration and had not been offered so much as a sippy cup of water it might be a good idea to address that problem in order to squeeze some blood out of me. They didn’t see it that way. For the outrageous price of health care in the US one would think it would be a little better organized.
Finally they admitted me to the inner sanctum where I got to crawl into a bed. Eventually I got a blanket and was even examined by a doctor. They said I was dehydrated, duh. And hooked me up to 2 bags of some miracle solution and then hit me up with an anti-nausea medication and a powerful pain-killer.
Not long after I was told that I had a stomach virus and was discharged with 2 prescriptions for medication and instructions to rest and drink lots of fluid. You know hospitals used to have pharmacies where you could get prescriptions filled and go directly home to begin your recuperation from the ordeal of the emergency room. Not anymore. Now you have to go in a treasure hunt for a 24 pharmacy if you need medication immediately. Thankfully, Mr. Husband took me home before doing that.
My decision going forward is that the only way to enter this particular emergency room is via ambulance. At least you have a gurney to lie upon while waiting.
I’m reasonably sure that I’m going to live after all. I’m also going to make sure I have prescription strength anti-nausea medicine in my home arsenal for future emergencies. The doctor told me that there really isn’t anything like it available over the counter. Maybe even go all out and take a first aid course and learn how to give myself IV fluids. And I am never, ever, never going to the ER I went to last Friday. I think that decision alone will increase my chances of survival!