Ah, the things life throws at you.
Thursday afternoons, Youngest has guitar lessons. Handily, her lessons are at a nearby university's conservatory of music, and only about a 15 minute walk from home. Though her lessons are at 2:30 in the afternoon, she and I have been walking over to arrive a half hour early because of the rather severe cold we've been having lately. I have no idea if it's necessary, but the idea of going from -20C to being used at room temperature is something I don't think is very good for a guitar. So we leave early and try to remember to have something along to keep us occupied. For me, that means my crochet project bag.
As her teacher wasn't able to make her lesson the previous week, this past Thursday was to be an hour long instead of half an hour. I had a light lunch - just a couple of pieces of toast and half an avocado - then we left early enough to arrive at 2:00. By the time we got there, my insides were feeling decidedly uncomfortable. I figured a trip to the bathroom was in order, but it didn't seem to help much. We sat ourselves down in the waiting area and I broke out my crochet. Soon I was squirming around, trying to find some way to sit comfortably. Though the general pain was intestinal and included most of my left side, the source was very specific. I remember mentioning to Youngest that, had it been on my right instead of left, I would have thought it was my appendix - except I don't have one.
Her lesson started off as usual, and I kept trying to crochet. After a while, I found myself getting up and trying to walk off the discomfort a few times. Then I'd sit for a bit and try and crochet, but couldn't keep it up. By about 3, I was texting Dh about the possibility of a ride home. He was home from work because of his back and I knew heading out would be very painful for him, but by that point, I realized any attempt for me to walk home would be extremely painful.
I'm glad I asked for a ride.
By the time 3:30 rolled around and Youngest's lesson was done, I was having difficulties standing up straight. Usually, we take our time packing up, getting our coats on and heading out. Instead, I already had all our stuff packed, my own coat on, and barely have her time to put on her own coat before we headed for the elevators. I was decidedly hobbling by then.
Dh had some issues finding where we were in the van - he'd only ever gone there by bus from the other direction, and the road is one of those one way streets where the entrance is easy to miss. Youngest ended up holding on to my project bag for me, keeping a lookout for Dh, while I hobbled over to a window ledge so I could lean against it and breath my way through the pain. Getting into the van was a bit of a challenge, too.
Once home, I went straight into a hot bath, thinking the heat might give some relief.
It didn't.
Strangely, through all this pain, I was still able to feel hungry. Aside from the toast and avocado I'd had before we left for the lesson, I'd only had a cup of tea and a cookie all day. While still in the tub, Youngest brought me what was handy - a porkchop on a fork. *L* It didn't really take the edge off my hunger, but with the increasing pain, I didn't try to eat anything else.
After my attempt at a bath, I tried lying down, only to discover I couldn't. Lying on my back was out of the question, but whichever side I tried to lie on, it felt like something was pulling and tearing at my insides. I found myself writhing around from position to position - some of them getting decidedly pretzel-like! - and breathing away the pain. It reminded me of some of the stuff I did while in labour, except more painful. I did take some pain killers after my attempt at a bath; a double dose of extra strength Advil, to no avail.
We were at a loss as to what was wrong. Was it cramps? Gas? The world's worse case of constipation? We couldn't figure it out. Dh thought it might be kidney stones, except that primary source of the pain was in the front instead of the back. Finally, I threw in the towel and told Dh to drive me to the emergency. I mentioned to Dh along the way that, if it did turn out to be nothing more than massive constipation, I wouldn't be the least bit embarrassed to have gone in, for the amount of pain I was feeling! It was worse than 71 hours of labour. Worse than giving birth to a 9 pound baby. I've endured extreme pain a few times over the years, and this blew them all away.
When we got to the hospital, the entrance to the emergency was different from what we expected. Rather than a drop off area, there were automatic doors for vehicles to drive through - and there were three ambulances in there, with no way for him to go in one way and out the other. So I got out of the van and hobbled in while he went to find somewhere to leave the van.
Walking in was truly interesting. By this time, my entire left side was pulled into itself. I couldn't straighten my left leg, so I hobbled and lurched my way to the triage nurse. I made a point of having my health care card handy, since I wasn't sure how well I could talk. The nurse had her back to me at first. I must have been quite the sight when she turned around, leaning against the counter with one arm, the hand rail below it with the other, and making weird breathing noises through my teeth in between sudden spasms that had me crunching around my left side even more. My hand was shaking massively as I handed her my card and stammered out as best I could, what was happening to me. She was actually able to take my BP and hook a sensor up to a finger while I was at the counter while she plugged in my card number and started a file. I was in the middle of that when Dh walked in, so he was able to help me to a chair when she was done with me.
The waiting room was pretty full, though I have only a vague notion of lots of people around. I wasn't really seeing straight. I tried sitting, squirming around, twitching and spasming. Every now and then I had to stand up, turn around, and jam my left knee onto the chair seat while hanging onto the hand rests. While I was doing that, Dh was called to one side to finish up my paperwork for me. Handy, that. If it had been just me, who knows when it would finally have been done! *L* After a while, I started to feel nauseous and dizzy from the pain, while still feeling hungry! What a contradiction of sensations. It was like having menstrual cramps, constipation, diarrhea and muscle tears all at once, with nausea, dizziness and hunger to top it off.
I have no real idea how long we were in the waiting area, but it wasn't long. We had a different nurse let us know that I was next and they were preparing a stretcher for me. When another nurse came to get me, she asked if I wanted to walk or take a wheelchair. With my inability to sit properly, I chose to walk.
"Walk" being a very loose description of what I did.
At first, I was hanging on to both Dh's arm and the nurse's as I lurched along like something out of a horror movie. Things got a bit too narrow for the three of us and, since I had no clue where we were going, I let go of Dh so he could follow behind. A couple of times the nurse tried to comfort me by saying we weren't in any hurry and I could slow down. I was completely incapable of telling her that I wasn't actually rushing. It was just the spasms causing my left leg to yank up, and the rest of my body trying to compensate for it.
We got to the waiting stretcher soon enough. The nurse started to tell me to lie down, but quickly amended it to "however you feel comfortable." I was given a gown to change into and some privacy. I don't know how I could have changed without Dh to help me! I found myself on the left side of the stretcher, standing on my right leg with my left knee contorted onto the stretcher, left hand jammed into my left side while my right hand was braced on the stretcher. This came in handy when the nurse (or was it a different one?) came in and was able to use my right arm to take my BP and heart rate again. I did ask what the readings were, but I don't remember the BP numbers right now, other than they were higher than any reading I've ever had before. My heart rate was at 110.
We were left for a while again and I kept having to move and shift into different position. At one point I was on the right side of the stretcher, sitting with my left leg on the stretcher and twisted into some sort of pretzel shape, right leg braced on the ground. It was about then that a nurse came in to stick an needle in my right elbow, take 7 vials of blood for testing (she explained she was taking more than needed, in case more tests were needed later, so they wouldn't have to do it again). Then she put me on IV. I was pretty dehydrated by then, not to mention light headed from both the amount of blood taken and from hyperventilating through the waves of pain. How I managed to keep my arm still enough for her to insert the needle while twitching and squirming, I don't remember. I do know I went through that particular bag of fluids rather quickly, and Dh let me know that he could actually see in my face that it made a positive difference.
Somewhere through all this, my own responses to the pain changed. While still in the waiting room, the pain made my eyes water enough that I was pretty much crying and in need of nose blowing. It's rather difficult to blow one's nose while writhing and spasming. This changed some time after I got to my room in the emergency (each "room" in the wards consists of a stretcher, necessary equipment, a chair and one of those tables that can go over the bed, and a curtain for privacy). I found myself being rather angry, with more than a few choice words escaping my lips during the spasms. Dh commented on my looking ready to kill something and I joked about making angry faces at the pain. The nurse taking blood at the time asked me if that helped and I told her that yeah, it actually did! *L*
I can't quite remember the proper sequence of the next few things. I do know that, after the IV was placed, I got a visit from the doctor working the emergency room that night. I was back on the left side of the stretcher again, doing some weird contortions and making my angry faces. The doctor took my blood pressure and heart rate again and asked me a bunch of questions. He said that, based on my level of pain and how localized it was, their thought was that it might be kidney stones, and that they wanted to do Xrays. If it wasn't kidney stones, then they'd have to explore other options. I think it was just after he left that a nurse came in with some morphine.
Now this was a strange thing! I've never had morphine before. She warned me as she was prepping (and making sure I was actually lying on the bed - this was not a time for me to be even partially standing!) to inject it into the IV that I might feel a burning sensation and possible nausea. She did know I was already feeling nauseous. At this point, I guess it was a good thing I hadn't eaten much.
When the morphine was injected into the IV, the affect was instantaneous and incredibly weird! There was this strange wwwhhhoooossshhh feeling in a wave that radiated from my arm across my body. Then the nausea hit. Dh and the nurse quickly got one of those kidney shaped disposable bowls handy for me. Thankfully, I didn't need to use it. I don't imagine it would have been the same if I'd had a meal earlier!
The pain just melted away. With it went the nausea. All of it.
What an incredible relief! Slowly, I was able to straighten out my left leg, then at the waist. I could breath normally again!
That's some gooooodddd stuff!
This made waiting for the Xray much more pleasant! I even got to dose off a bit, under the watchful eyes of Dh. I remember lying there, drifting off, then opening my eyes to find him leaning against the side rail, staring at me intently. I'd start laughing at him and we'd crack jokes about the joys of morphine or some such, then I'd drift off again.
Then it was time to go for the Xray. Someone did ask if I wanted to walk or get wheeled over. With the morphine, I figured walking wasn't a good idea. Somehow, I assumed that by "wheeled over" they meant in a wheelchair, so I was getting all ready to get off the stretcher. Turned out they meant the stretcher itself. One of those "duh" moments, but hey... I was stoned!
Off I was taken to Xray. For that, I did get off the stretcher and stood up. It went by quickly - I just had to lean forward against the machine for one, turn around for the other, then it was back in the stretcher to wheel me back to my room in the emergency. Just getting in and out of the stretcher woke up some discomfort, though. My insides were definitely starting to talk to me.
Once back in my room, a nurse came by to tell me they needed a urine sample to test for kidney stones. My IV bag was hooked up to my dancing partner (my term for the IV pole) and I was able to walk to the bathroom around the corner. There, they had a basket full of sample bottles and another of wet wipes. I was to use a wipe on myself, then get a mid-stream sample.
Have you ever had to give a mid-stream urine sample? It's difficult enough for a female to provide a urine sample without pissing all over the place. For this, I had to let 'er rip for a couple of seconds, stop peeing, position the bottle, then continue taking a leak. Blech.
I had to use a few extra wet wipes. And wash thoroughly. And wipe the drips off the floor.
I hate giving urine samples.
Walking back to my stretcher, however, my insides started acting up even more. As I lay down, I mentioned it to Dh (who, by the way, was continually keeping the kids updated by texting them on his Blackberry). Within a minute, I was starting to squirm again. Within two, I was having to breath through the pain while writhing. Dh had already gone to tell someone the pain was coming back, so when a nurse came in, she already had another dose of morphine ready.
By this time, it was clear that the walking was a trigger of some kind. Things were moving around in me. Whatever they were, it was causing me a lot of pain. Enough pain that my first dose of morphine wasn't enough. She quickly gave me a second dose.
This time, I figured the wave of nausea would be worse, so the puke dish was already handy. It wasn't necessary. I still got that massive wwwwhhhoooossshhhh across my body, but it felt slightly different than the first dose, and had no accompanying nausea at all.
The second dose did the trick. Finally, the pain was gone.
After that, all we could do was wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment