Three Trips to the Emergency Room

I'm that woman you hear about who spends so much time getting ready to go to the emergency room that I'll probably die before I get there. I have to take a shower, make sure there are no holes in my underwear, pack a large bag of everything on earth that I might possibly need (since I'll be in the ER minimum of 5 hours) make sure I've got an up-to-date list of doctor's names, phone numbers and prescriptions, a book to read, a magazine to read in case I don't like the book, my big red Franklin which holds all the information of my entire life, eye glass cleaners, notebook, pens, 1 DEPENDS diaper because you just never know, bottle of water, bottle of ice tea. You get the idea here. Going to the ER is terrifying enough so the more familiar things I can bring with me the less likely I am to jump up and begin screaming at random - something which really upsets the nurses by the way.

Why did I go? I couldn't stop screaming. I don't mean screaming inside your head. Mean flat out, my car is stuck om the railroad tracks, someone I love with all my life is dead, my best friend just said never call me again, you get the general picture here, flat out screaming at the top of my lungs. Every time i moved my left side even just a little the pain caused me to involuntarily scream. Now I knew the COPD thing was getting worse and worse because I was making noises like a cheap accordion. A friend also said this sound is like the wind blowing through a cheap pane of glass. Either way it signals I'm in deep doodoo on the health front. This was something new and you don't want new when you're in my condition. My daughter, who called about something else, heard gasping and demanded I go to the ER. The problem with growing older is how much your children feel it gives them permission to talk to you like you are now the child. I'm wrestling with this one but generally allow it because I know deep down it means they love and worry about me. My husband and I went to the ER at the best possible time - 5:30AM on a Monday morning. You learn these things unless you're looking to spend a minimum of 12 hours in the ER fighting with strangers over what will be watched on the one TV in the waiting room. My suggestion to make your ER visit go better. Be as polite and friendly as possible given that you're most likely in excruciating pain. However, suggestion to help you maintain your pride - require everyone to tell you who they are. I reach out my hand to have it shaken and say "And you are?" if they don't introduce themself Stops them cold every time. I suspect the ER folks meet so many people they literally forget who they are so they don't introduce themselves.

There is only one statement guaranteed to make me jump off the gurney and try to commit murder. My husband always stops me so I have yet to succeed. Someone while needing to put in an IV, do a spinal tap or worse yet draw an arterial blood gas ABG (a blood draw from the tiny artery in my hand). An ABG is so painful that I have no problem with screaming out loud at the top of my lungs while weeping. When completed, occasionally some idiot says "Oh come on. It wasn't that bad was it?" If by chance there's someone from the medical profession reading this take this message back to your colleagues. Do not insult a patient by telling them they have no right to their pain. It hurts as much as it hurts and unless you live in their skin you have no idea of how bad a procedure can be. Whew...I feel so much better now.

Anyway, after 5 hours, a big dose of sodium medrol and a 1 hour nebulizer treatment I wasn't breathing any better and they wanted to admit me. I begged to be allowed to go home and take it easy. OK I admit the taking it easy part is really hard for me but I'm trying. The thing about hospitals is that, when I was much younger I thought of it as a great place to get attention. At almost 56 I'm afraid they won't let me leave. So I hate going there. It's not very mature and drives my daughter nuts but I'm just flat out terrified to go the ER. I'm open to any ideas that can change my thinking. This is getting to be the equivalent of a fear of airplanes. I've had a stroke so again I'm aware of the importance of time when it comes to dealing with illness by going to the ER. I'm trying to act like a grownup but some days I frankly lose the fight.

A digression: I was watching the evening news and they showed an invention of a very small camper type thing wrapped around a shopping cart. The idea is to provide the homeless with a place they can sleep up off the ground. When they interviewed one guy who uses it he said, and I'm not making this up, "I'm on my way to the American dream now. I've got my first home." I watched his face closely to see if he was being facetious but he clearly wasn't. In this time when we seem to talk of nothing but the thousands going through foreclosure this man gave me pause as well as humbled me. He was so delighted to have his shopping cart home. A little home made out of a shopping cart and it brought him such joy! Think about it.

I'm tired from my digression. Dying is exhausting.