ER Visit

I wasnt’ sure what was happening, but I thought death could be an option, so I prayed for my soul in the ER last night.

A routine day – some time at work and then off to clean up after some tenants at a rental.  I thought maybe some dehydration so i stopped at the gas station for a Gatorade.  My wonderful MIL was watching the kids for the afternoon and offered to watch them longer so I could take my wife out for dinner for her birthday.  I thought Flannigans sounded great, but she picked Outback.  My 20 oz Prime Rib arrived at room temp on a sizzling plate.  After sending it back to the kitchen, my dinner was comped.  On our way home I felt wiped out.  Food poisoning?  Nah.

I was in bed at 10 and sleeping by 11.  I went to sleep with a heavy feeling in my gut (lower than my stomach), so when I woke up at 12 feeling like a baseball had been implanted behind my bellybutton, I knew something was wrong.  My temp was 101 and I called the 24/7 nurseline who told me to go to the ER.  Before I left I woke Angie to let her know I was leaving.  That’s when I had the best puke of my life ever.  I know it’s gross, but I got rid of *almost* everything in my stomach with a great projectile vomit including the splashing of toilet water on the walls and in my face – but I didn’t care because it felt good!  I puked so hard and so fast I was spitting blood for the next few minutes, but I could smile.  (In the meantime Angie begins spraying Lysol everywhere from the bathroom to the driveway!)

So, feeling like I could puke again, I took the 24/7 lady’s advice and went to the ER.  I was feeling jovial when I left, but naucious with now a 102.  By the time I got there I didn’t have energy for jokes.  (It had taken me a few extra minutes to get out the door because I realized I was wearing navy sweatpants with black socks – oops, don’t want the nurses to lose focus of what’s important.) 

So they checked me in and the Dr. said he didn’t think I was going to lose my appendix (which I was worried about since Angie and HS BFF Chris Brzezinski both went to the ER much later than they should have with their appendix).  I was being treated for nausea, feaver and vomiting while they were running tests.  I thought it was going to be a slow death, and I was anxious that they couldn’t tell me what it was (the lady who checked me in said “Hernia.  We see it all the time.” but she wasnt’ a nurse.  So I prayed for my soul and made my nurse promise me two things:  (1) Get the number for my mom and dad out of my cell phone.  If I die, I want the hospital to call them – Angie shouldn’t have to do that.  But call Angie first.  (2) Since I’m dying before Angie I want to make sure that “Waiting on a Woman” plays at my funeral.  The viewing can be somber, but the funeral should be fun. 

After that I was out cold.  (Hospital beds suck – especially the ones in the ER.  You’d think with all the cash they get they could get a good Serta or Simmons to keep everyone cumfy.)  They woke me up every so often to see how I was doing and then said my test results were satisfactory and go home and rest for a couple days.  Dehydration and viral were their best guesses.  Whatever.

So I got home at 5, slept until 10.  Slept again from 12-4 and then 5-9.  Now It’s 1AM and I’m thinking about eating for the first time since Outback.  (I made Angie throw away the 16 oz of Prime Rib that I couldn’t eat just in case.)  So far today I’ve eaten a half row of Saltines and two 7ups.  Blah.  I’m sick of being sick, but glad to be alive.  That sucked.

~ by rekrapsirhc on July 23, 2008.