It's time for another edition of the Insecure Writer's Support Group. Be sure to visit Alex J. Cavanaugh and the rest of the talented bloggers who are always willing to lend a helping hand.
A Frightful Visit To The ER
It all began just days after my husband's successful knee replacement surgery. While he was racing around on his walker, I felt like I had just gotten off of a horse.
Though I hated to bother my out-of-state kidney transplant team on Labor Day weekend, I feared without a medication adjustment, I wouldn't be able to continue to care for my strong and selfless hubby.
After describing my symptoms, the transplant nurse urged me to head over to the emergency room.
I told her that I couldn't possibly leave my husband unattended shortly after his surgery, and there was no way of knowing how long the wait would be in the ER. But the nurse apologetically explained that she couldn't prescribe anything without examining me, and didn't want to take any chances since my immune system had already been compromised from a serious intestinal infection last June.
Fortunately, both my considerate brother and devoted son graciously offered to hubby-sit while I drove myself to the ER. Thank goodness for cell phones, as I texted with friends to help pass the time.
I knew it would be a long wait, but the staff would not let me leave the building to walk around outside. So I did laps inside the hospital until I got reprimanded for walking a short distance from the crowded ER to the empty lobby.
Three hours later, I was placed into an examining room. It took longer for me to change into my hospital gown than it did for the doctor to provide a humiliating diagnosis.
He tried to ease my embarrassment by explaining that this painful condition resulted from having a compromised immune system along with being a complete nervous wreck. Well, he was two for two, but I couldn't help thinking he was being a bit rash.
Though I attempted to assure the doctor that I like Princess Di was a "woman with a history, but not a past," he quickly left to call my transplant doctor to discuss treatment.
While I was awaiting the doctor's return, I called Hubby to fill him in, but no one answered. Surely, the poor boy was worried sick about me, so I called my brother to find out what was going on.
My brother said my husband didn't bring his phone with him on their walk. This was the farthest he had walked since his surgery.
Apparently while I was on the verge of being branded with the Scarlet Letter, my husband was holding court on a bench outside our apartment building, as some of the neighbors stopped to admire his new knee along with his sheer bravery. I could hear him laughing in the background; clearly having the time of his life.
After waiting almost another hour, the ER doctor returned to announce there was nothing they could do for now, but the pain would subside on its own in a few days. While I was doing the walk of shame out of the ER, I could've sworn one of the technicians winked at me.
During the drive home, a dear friend called to see how I was doing. I told her that it was all a terribly humiliating waste of time, but she didn't seem to believe me. I finally mustered the courage to say my disgraceful diagnosis out loud, as a train thunderously whistled down the tracks.
Then she blurted out, "What do you mean you have burps? And why would you have to change into a hospital gown for that?"
Later when I jokingly asked my husband for a list of partners he's had throughout our 33 year marriage, he replied, "Got a pen?"
Wishing everyone in blogland, a safe and happy Halloween! In the meantime, please wear your masks in public, and don't forget to get a flu shot!
Oh dear. Hope things are better now.ReplyDelete
Sorry that they couldn't do anything to help you. Glad you got help taking care of your husband while you took care of your own health.ReplyDelete
I am so sorry that you had to go through that, Julie. As a person who suffers anxiety, I understand. You certainly did the right thing in going to the ER (Yikes, three hours), and, thankfully, you are OK. I hope you and your husband are both doing better now.ReplyDelete
To make you feel better, I will tell you my moment of shame at a hospital. My due date for my fourth child was December 28th. My husband, who has OCD, spent the day staring at me . I got some cramps and he insisted that we call the babysitter and get in the car and leave right away. He sped to the hospital on that snowy night and after an examination they told me, no baby, but lots of gas. I had to go home to face a friend and three kids who expected me to bring home their baby sister but all I had in my hands was a box of Tums. My daughter arrived on an icy night three weeks later and she came very quickly.
Sorry about the crappy ER visit but hey, at least it wasn't anything serious.ReplyDelete
Liza - After I got over the initial embarrassment, I started feeling better within a few days. The good news, is that it reminded me of how susceptible I am to similar diseases like chicken pox and shingles, so I just had a flu shot, and will have a shingles vaccine in a couple of weeks. I know that you and your family will be extremely careful this flu season after all you've been through. Hope you're holding up okay, Liza. I truly admire your strength and courage. Thank you!ReplyDelete
Natalie - I just tried to make light of a very awkward situation. All is well, and Hubby's bionic knee is getting stronger every day! Thanks Natalie!
Arleen - What a great story! I love that you also find the humor in every situation, though it must've been pretty aggravating at the time. Speaking of being sent home with Tums, I should be thankful that they didn't pile me up with pamphlets for confused teenagers! Thanks Arleen!
Alex - You are absolutely right. Prior to my ER visit, I made the mistake of checking my symptoms on the Internet and was expecting the worst case scenario. So I'll take a little or a lot of embarrassment anytime! Thanks Alex!
Well, at least it wasn't "the farts!"ReplyDelete
Debra - Though I’m too much of a lady to ever discuss these matters, I can’t even imagine if I went to the ER every time THAT happened! I’m so glad you get me, Debra! We have to laugh about this silly stuff. Thanks funny lady!Delete
Oh, dear. I've heard of the "walk of shame" in yesterday's clothes, but out of the ER? So glad you found the humor in it to share with us. Hang in there.ReplyDelete
Diane - This wasn’t my first visit to the ER, but it was definitely the strangest. With all the terrible things going on in the world, I know how lucky I’ve been. Yes, there’s usually room for laughter in most situations. Thank you and take care, Diane!ReplyDelete
Hi Julie - well thank goodness for that ... so glad all ended on a burpey or burpy note! Great your husband seems to be doing ok too - perhaps your brother and son will come more often to take him further. Just take care ... I went to ER for a sore toe, that seemed to get worse, I waited til the Saturday morning and then waited - but when the young lady doctor told me I had a touch of arthritis - I felt huge embarrassment ... I guess I could have been burping too - but don't remember that!! Take care and all the very best to you both - HilaryReplyDelete
Hi Hilary - You obviously were in a lot of pain, so there’s no need to be embarrassed about gong to the ER. I’m sorry you have arthritis, and hope your toe ‘s feeling better. Nope, you are far too cultured and dignified to burp in public. Thank you, Hilary!Delete
GEM JULIE ~ReplyDelete
Am I fashionably late or just... damned late, and in need of a note from my mother or my doctor?
Well, I finally got a little free time to visit my friends in the Blogosphere. Funny that I should find myself with a bit more free time than usual, now that the manager where I work is gone on vacation and I am the acting manager. Shouldn't I actually be BUSIER now?!
Oh, well, Life is... unexplainable.
Ha!-Ha! Life is like a full circle kinda thing, ain't it?
>>... After describing my symptoms, the transplant nurse urged me to head over to the emergency room.
Well, you shouldn't have felt too much embarrassment over the matter, seeing as how even the transplant nurse thought the symptoms added up to sumpin' serious.
I remember when I was young, TV commercials about allergies and nerve pain (Sciatica) just sounded like foreign languages to me. I didn't even know what that stuffs was. Now, at 61... I know what that stuffs is.
I wish I could locate a Mr. Peabody 'Waybac Machine' and travel back in time, where I would find myself at the age of 20 and tell myself, "Look, Butthead! Don't take these next twenty years for granted! Enjoy them to the fullest. And remember them... you'll need 'em later!"
I'll shall endeavor to persevere and be mo' better punctual for your next post, m'dear.
Hi Stephen - No need to apologize, as I’m late for everything even dinner at home! Your entertaining visits are always welcome anytime. Thanks for the encouraging words, Stephen!ReplyDelete
Oh dear. Sorry they couldn't help you.ReplyDelete
Love it! Your subtle choice of words did a fantastic job capturing the absurdity of the situation. I'm glad the issue only turned out to be gas. Now you can devote your undivided attention to your strong and selfless hubby. :) (Assuming you can keep up with him and his amazing high-speed walker...)ReplyDelete
Kelly - Thank you, but just knowing that it wasn’t anything life-threatening brought me some peace of mind. We actually had a pretty good laugh about it afterward.ReplyDelete
Susan - Haha! You are funny, Susan! Unfortunately, this story wasn’t, as something got lost in translation. Oh, and Hubby hasn’t used a walker or a cane for several weeks. He’s quite a show-off! Thanks, my friend!