My Life Is Random Wherever I Go

I don't just have drama behind the bar; oh, no!  No, I've got to have a dramatic life no matter the setting.

So, I started feeling a little queasy at work Sunday night, and Monday morning at about 4 am while I was desperately searching for my cell phone charger so I could charge my phone before I hopped on the Boltbus at 7:30 am to go to NY to search for an apartment with my girls, it happened.

Out of nowhere, I suffered a severe, sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach, radiating up my spine, around my ribs and up to my shoulders.  I dropped to the floor, hissing, face screwed up like I would burst into anguished tears any second (except I never see the point of crying because of physical pain, so I always stop myself before the first tear rolls with some deep breathing and streams of curse words best left unsaid).  Thinking I could just rest it away, I curled up on the couch in my family room, knowing I had to wake up in 2 hours to be on the subway in 3 hours to be on that bus at 7:30.  I woke up 3 hours later... still in pain.

However, I'm a determined (delusional) sort, and I'm made of tougher stuff than to just call the doctor at the first sign of trouble!  So, I got online and bought myself an Amtrak ticket for 10:30 so I could meet my friends, as planned, and commence the hunt for the GREATEST APARTMENT EVER (Not to exceed rent payments of $2250 in total)!!!

I've got to give myself credit; I walked around New York on an empty stomach with tightness in my belly and the sensation of a 10-pound weight dragging on each of my shoulders for five hours before I finally said, "Guys.  I can't walk anymore.  I can't make it."

Tuesday hits.  I feel a little better, but not really... I do some reading on the internet.  (All praise be to the internet.).  I come to the conclusion that I might just have really bad gas (ew!) and referred pain in my shoulders.  (Referred pain is when something is wrong in one area of your body, but it hurts in a completely different area.).  Took some Gas-X pills.  

Wednesday: the pills did nothing.  I call my doctor (finally; I'm SO stubborn!).  The good doctor cannot see me until the 18th.  I will probably be dead by then if it's something serious, and if it's not serious, I'll be on a plane to Vegas.  No dice.  I go to work, because even though I'm in pain... I need that money.  Once at work, it becomes clear that I cannot stay there.  I call the nurse hotline on my insurance to ask for advice.  She tells me to take two Aleeve and call my doctor in the morning.  Again: no dice.  ER it is!!

I go to the ER; it is now midnight, Thursday morning.  My community ER is closed until 8 am.  I go home.  8 am arrives and it's off to my community's ER again!  

(Shout out to the great nurses and doctors there... however... Dr. You-Sound-Just-Like-My-Finance-Professor wasn't listening well...).

I told this man all of my symptoms/ailments multiple times and made sure to tell him that although the pain was all in my shoulders, it hurt really badly if I leaned forward more than 45 degrees and if I were to lie down and move positions, I would hear and feel something sloshing around near my stomach, where it definitely shouldn't be.  He then proceeded to order a chest x-ray, CT scan and blood tests.

So... I was shot full of iodine (which puts a metallic taste in your mouth, makes you nauseous, and makes your body feel like it's on fire and you've just peed yourself) and strapped (okay, not strapped... I was there of my own free will) to a table where a laser got to know me pretty well.

At this point, my precious, tiny little veins had been stabbed 3+ times (I say 3+ because one of the nurses couldn't find a good vein in my arm, so she took one from the back of my hand, but still managed to insert the needle crooked and had to wiggle it around.  Pain!).

The chest CT scan shows that everything is normal around my lungs (I could've told you that, Doc!), but I've got a huge bubble of air outside of my stomach, just chillin' under my diaphragm. Gettin jiggy with my liver.  That usually happens when you've ruptured an organ.  Great.

So... I'm off to another hospital where Dr. Uncle (not biological, but he's family all the same) is a member of the system (although his office is offsite).  

When I am first admitted, there is a man in the room with me gushing blood.  His girlfriend has hit him over the head with a glass bowl.

"How that broad gonna do me like this?  Shit.  Ah!  Fuck, my head!  My head!  Man, but let it be me who hit her with a damn glass bowl and had her bleedin all over the place!  Wouldn't be no questions.  I'da been arrested on site, cops woulda beat me up some more.  That broad... they wait for her parents to get there to take the baby and THEN they take me to the hospital.  You see how they do men?  Ah!  Fuck!  My head..."

I get blood drawn... again.  Get more x-rays.  I have to drink like a liter (okay, a pint 1/2) of this nasty ass "Berry Smoothie"...it is NOT a smoothie; it's used to highlight where holes might be when you get a CT scan.  I get an abdominal CT scan and go back to my room where I wait... and wait...

Watch the news.  Watch Celtics v. Magic.  Wonder how much blood I've lost.  Fantasize about bustin outta the joint, finding the cafeteria and stealing some food.  Wait.  Ignore the guy who keeps winking at me from around my curtain.  (I'm in the ER with a catheter stuck in my arm!  I'm ill!  Why are you trying to come on to me!?)

Finally, word comes.  "You've got a perforation in your belly."

I kept trying to clarify whether she meant stomach or intestines, but she kept saying belly.  I AM NOT A FIVE YEAR OLD!

By the time I'm ready to leave, I've been shot up with antibiotics, told I've got a perforation in my intestine, and that I can't work for five days or go to Vegas =(

Peachy.

I called my manager to tell her that I wouldn't be able to work for five days because I've got a freaking HOLE in my intestine and you know what she said, "you're kidding me."  She then gave a sigh and said, "okay, I'll text HNIC."  She's just blown because I was supposed to take her shift on Saturday.  Well EXCUSE ME!  I didn't poke a hole through my own intestine!  I want to go to Vegas!  I've already paid $483 in non-refundable money towards the damn trip!  I'm sorry my health problems are ruining YOUR life!  Bitch.

Grr.