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Archive for the ‘The Finer Things of Life’ Category

Sometimes you can never get enough of a good thing.

Like being in the hospital.

What more could you ask for?

Room service, maid service, being shocked out of sleep multiple times a night by some guy with a needle in his hand….

Oh, and don’t forget the endless waiting on the doctor, the ambulance ride from one E.R. to the other hospital in a vehicle badly in need of shocks and alignment.

Ah, and how could I not mention the doc who couldn’t figure out what on earth to do with me since my ‘tests didn’t indicate anything conclusive’ and gave me three Dulcolax which gave the, uh, intended results? Too well. WAY too well.

Luckily, this was after the doc at the original E.R. misdiagnosed my writhing abdominal pain and vomiting and prescribed a treatment that I can only describe as giving birth to a baby seal through your nose and out your esophagus. Which resulted in copious amounts of blood and vomit streaming from me, the patient. Which resulted in one of the nurses skipping (seriously) out of the room to tend to another patient, waggling her fingers at me all the while. I don’t remember what happened next, because everything went black.

Fortunately, I am home now.

With a knot at my swollen I.V. site and bruises all over my arms.

We still never received a diagnosis.

Some of the docs said pending appendicitis.

Others said possible bowel obstruction.

Still others claimed it could be a ruptured ovarian cyst.

But not the flu.

Because the tests said it wasn’t.

I guess they haven’t figured out yet that I secretly just wanted a few days off.

I mean, who wouldn’t want to pay thousands of dollars to lay in bed all day long looking like this:

All I have to say is that before I ever let anyone drag me to that place again, rigor mortis will have already set in.

That’s a nice way of saying, “Over my cold, dead body.”

Or when a certain place freezes over.

Whichever comes first.

~J

::Quick Update::

I have since learned through, um, trial and error and cleansing that at least a good portion of what ailed and still ails me was gallstones. This has not been a fun adventure, but I’m so thankful to finally have some answers, since I couldn’t get any from the good docs at Meridian or Nampa St. Luke’s. Especially the one that thought he sounded sooo much smarter than the simpleton homemaker in the hospital bed when he said, “Well, I think we can rule out cholecystitis.” I rolled my eyes then and there at his fancy terminology for gallbladder pain.

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