PAIINNNNN

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index_pain

 

Apparently I’m not very tolerant to pain.  At least on myself.  Others, yeah no issue.  Bring the big needles and let me at them!   Thursday night a few weeks ago (we were on the houseboat pulling it in, and I started cramping.  Now I may have mentioned this before in all my openness, but I don’t really cramp when I’m having my period.  I have nice (really?  nice?) light, small periods, pain free.  Now this cramping was like the pain I had in labor with Zachary, just strong cramps (yes, before my epidural).  Ok, no biggy, I swam too much, or pulled a kid in right? 

Yeah right!  On the way home I thought I was going to die!  I almost had to pull the car over to catch my breath!  I got the boys in bed (they fell asleep on the way home), all three, heavy boys, ugh.  I undressed and sat at the computer (yes, I sometimes sit here nekkid, blogging, thinking of you), and was hurting so much I pretty much crawled to my bed.  I thought, hmmm, I’ll wait this out til the morning and go see the Doc or visit the quick care clinic.  Sent a text to the Ex, asking him if he was off in the am, he said yeah, told him I’d need him to watch the boys for me.  No prob. 

Yeah Right!  Then the real pain kicked in.  Imagine me (yes, nekkid), in a fetal position, in my bed (btw, I love my bed, go invest in some good sheets), crying.  No, not crying, whalingggg.  Bawlinggg.  Screamminggg.  I called Heather, no answer.  I call Ex, no answer.  Repeat that squence  1,203,984,732,978 times.  I finally left a message for Heather, “Heather! I hurt!  AAHHHH!! WAHHH! BAWWLLL! AAAHHHH!  ER!  CALL!  ME!!  UUGHHHHAALLALAHAHHHHAAAAAHHH!”  I then called Ex, and he answered and offered to come over.

Now, the problem with being a single Mom and needing to go to the ER is that you need two people to come to the rescue.  I considered 911 and an ambulance, but I’m pretty certain that they don’t have room for car-seats and booster seats in those things.  If Ex hadn’t answered, and Heather was passed smooth out, then I was going to go down my phone list for someone with two people to come help.  Amber in Malvern, you would’ve been first.  Allen, sorry, you really would’ve been first, but you are just one person!

So the Ex, Fos, and Princess (Ex’s girly friend, yes they call her that, I’m not being mean), show up.  Fos and Ex (DRUNK Ex) want to carry me, but I refuse (I’m really heavy).  They get me to the ER, yes the one I work at, ugh.  My grand co-workers got me to a bed stat (Thanks Mike and Tom!), and Chris the RN put an IV in and use an entire roll of tape to secure it (there goes our bonus).  I also gave a urine sample, which while trying to get into the bathroom, I threw the pee cup on the floor, behind the freaking toilet.  Yeah there was no way for me to get it.  So the Ex came in to assist.  Then of course I couldn’t pee.  Brilliant Ex turned on the water, and VOILA! I peed.  Yeah, it works.  As I crawled back into bed, in my pretty open back hospital gown, I assumed my “comfy” fetal position.  With my ass hanging out to the door, to Ex, and to Chris RN.  I really did not care, and was so freaking hot (yeah, you know I was feeling bad if I was HOT in the ER), I refused blankets, but finally agreed to letting them cover my rump.

Funny thing, being in a small town, you see your coworkers around and about, and that includes the Docs.  Once, long ago, I had an embarrassing moment with a particular Doc (won’t say who it was embarrassing for), and this certain Doc was my Doc in the ER.  Nice.  Despite all, he was nice and professional and helpful.  After a nice dose of Dilaudid, Zofran and Toradol I felt better and could uncurl myself from that fetal position.  OMG!  WOW.  Dilaudid.  When Chris RN gave it to me, I was still in the fetal position with my arm above my head.  All the sudden my arm got hot, and I lifted my head to look at it, then the heat went to my head, and my poor head when THUMP! on the bed.  Chris RN said, “you may feel a bit flush,” yeah too late.  He told me to breath, so I started my best heavy and fast Lamaze breathing.  Chris RN whacked me on the head (ok, not really) and said to breath slloooowwww, and close your eyes until it passes.  I have no idea how people come into the hospital and get Dilaudid continually, or even on a PCA.  I was very doped up!

Doc’s plan was to do an ultrasound (U/S) and maybe a pelvic exam.  If you remember my chocolate gravy and biscuits post (search them, good stuff there), I am not a fan of pelvic exams!  The lovely and sweet U/S chick (with the kick ass puma shoes) rolled her machine in and started to click away, taking tons of pics.  Remember, I’m doped up.  She now informs me that she needs to do a trans-vaginal U/S.  For you layman, it’s a big vibrator resembling wand, they stick IN your vaginal and take pics.  Fancy shit.  She tells me that she will only stick about this much (holding her fingers about 3 inches apart) of the wand in me, and that it makes people go pee, so I need to get up. 

Yeah Right.  I can’t freaking walk, I’m drugged up baby!  So what do I say?  Well . . . . . ” I’ve had things MUCH MUCH MUCH larger than that in me, and I’ve never pee’d on them.”  Oh no you didn’t!  Oh yes, I did.  (sorry, need to break here, and really just laugh at myself).  ok.  Better.  I think this is why she really didn’t assist me to the bathroom, and thus me stumbling and running into the walls (more so than normal).   When I come back, she has a pile of blankets piled, folded nicely, in the middle of the bed.  She wants me to put my hips on there, so I’m tilted up.  Seriously?  What part of DRUGS, NARCOTICS do you not understand Woman!  Yeah, so I awkwardly get up there (note:  this is a good position for other times you may be nekkid, hint hint).   One last stupid comment from me; as she was putting on the “condom” on the wand, I asked, “Is that a real condom?”  Gosh, I’m dense.

After all that fun (NOT), I ended up having a 3.9 cm cyst on my left ovary.  Nice.  Nothing to do for it, just wait for it to go away.  Thankfully it didn’t rupture (omg, I can’t imagine THAT pain)  or twist the ovary.  Ex and Fos left way before the U/S, and so I found myself at 6:15 am stumbling down the long, long, long wooden ER hallway to go to the pediatrics floor to catch a ride from Lisa RN.

OMG I’m a freak!  LMAO!  I really crack myself up! 

Thank you to St Joe ER and all that helped me feel much much better!  Here is a 93 pound cyst, not mine of course.

 

93_Pound_Ovarian_Cyst

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