Sometimes The Burden Is Too Heavy
In the early morning hours of Thursday (4-4) it started. The chest pain and feeling of dread. I didn't want to wake my husband. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I was frightened. I laid in the dark, afraid to wake him or bother him. After all, he's been going through enough, and I didn't want to bother him even though I was very much afraid.
About an hour after the pain started, he woke up. I knew he would wake up eventually, because he rarely goes than 2 hours at night without needing to pee. The prostate cancer has had that effect on him. When he got up and turned on the light, he knew there was something wrong with me, and he asked. I told him, then I said I didn't want to call 911. We simply can't afford the extra expense now, so he drove me to a hospital a few blocks away.
Okay, I admit it, I looked horrible, between my purple hair that somehow looked greasy, added by the fact that I had mismatched socks, and I wasn't brought in by an ambulance, I was treated like I was a drug addict or alcoholic. My denials fell on deaf ears, and I was pissed, but the chest pain was getting worse, and I was afraid. I was sent to give urine in a bathroom with a "broken sink." My request to have my blood taken by a butterfly was ignored as well. It started out bad.
Once they got my history (diabetes, high blood pressure, etc.) I was treated less like an addict, and more like someone with a legitimate complaint. I was told to remove my necklace and wedding rings. They did an EKG and chest x-ray, and took more blood plus an IV, and I was sent up to the ICU 3 hours after going into the ER.
Once I was in the ICU, I sent my husband home. Every 2 hours they took more blood, and I was injected with a blood thinner. The diet was restricted fat, sodium and sugar in spite of the fact that my diabetes is under control. I met with the dietician later in the day who agreed that my blood sugar (115) and A1C (6.5) meant that I could have regular sugar, but no caffeine. I had an echocardiogram, and there was a stress test scheduled for Friday.
About 4:30PM, I was told that I was being transferred, and my nurse asked if I requested it. Why would I do that? I was close to home, and it was convenient for my Husband. At 5:30, I was told that I was being transferred by the case manager, who apparently knew about it around 2PM, but waited until then to tell me. I was not happy.
The new hospital wasn't bad, but I was put in a room with an elderly lady who had at least 10 visitors at the time, and they were LOUD. I'm quiet, I live with my Husband and ex-husband and they are quiet. I'm a private person. This was unacceptable, and I requested a room change, which fell on deaf ears (laughs) Fortunately, most of them cleared out by 10PM, and I was told that I had to be NPO after midnight. I asked for a snack (not unreasonable, because I barely touched my dinner) and I was told the doctor hadn't approved anything. Finally at 11:45, I was given a sandwich, some juice, and some chocolate pudding. A heart monitor was attached.
When they came in to draw my blood at 6:15 in the morning, the noise started. Loud Spanish programming that even the earplugs couldn't hide. Loud anything bothers me. Apparently my roommate's daughter spent the night, and didn't even consider that maybe I needed to rest. It took some meditation, but I finally fell back asleep.
The stress test was bad. Chemical injection that made me want to puke, tears rolling down my face, and a general feeling of unease. Then another test, but I fell asleep, so I can't say much. I was returned to my room at 10:30, and given grapes, rice krispies (no milk at my request) and juice. I was told they arranged for me to get an early lunch, but I said it wasn't necessary. At 11:30, my blood sugar was tested and it was 220, completely understandable, but they wanted to give me insulin. All I could think about was my girlfriend and what happened to her, and that it was utterly stupid to give me insulin, so I yelled at the nurse, and yelled "There's no fucking way you're going to give me insulin!" She backed away, apologized, and let me be.
The attending doctor came and told me I could go home, because it looked like I was having muscle pain, and it wasn't my heart. I got home about 3PM and I've been doing my best to relax. I did attend a dinner with friends Friday, and did some light grocery shopping, and stopped at the pharmacy on Saturday.
In the meantime, I've been thinking about other things and people who have been adding to my stress level, and while I haven't unfriended anyone, I have "muted" a few on Facebook and other social media. My health is more important than watching the activities of others.
Plans for the week include calling my GP for a followup on Monday, taking my Husband for the full body CT scan and brain MRI on Tuesday, Donna getting groomed Wednesday, Weekly Dinner with Friends on Friday, and a Memorial on Saturday.
::Takes deep slow breaths::
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=36uSJlBmYVo
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