So, for those of you who haven't heard yet, I spent the majority of Wednesday in the ER, and the majority of yesterday trying to recover. Today is a new day, and I plan on making the most of it; the most of what my pain will let me.
The ER visit was a 'new' one. We were headed to the Milwaukee V.A. for an appointment anyway, so I just spent an hour, passing out here and there, in the car to get to the ER versus twenty minutes. The doctor was great, taking detailed notes and switching me from morphine to dalauted and valium. I was there for six hours, and they kept coming in every hour or so to shoot me up with more pain killers. I wish I was closer to the Milwaukee clinic so I could go there for all my ER visits. They really have a remarkable staff and facility there, and I would highly recommend anyone to go there vise anywhere else.
Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My heart rate in the ER was in excess of 170 beats per minute when I arrived. My leg still feels like I'd been breaking boards with my thigh, foot, and calf. The prescribed muscle relaxers aren't helping much either. My muscles are still very knotted up and firing at odd times. I'm surprised nothing broke mid trip.
Today is a new day, and I plan to take full advantage of what my body will let me.
Showing posts with label Emergency. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emergency. Show all posts
Friday, January 14, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Good News, Bad News
Monday afternoon, and the reporter and photographer came through my front door. Questions where asked over the camera's clicks; answered, at times, through clenched teeth. In all the story was told, and I spent the night in pain. When they left they wanted to get some video, so they scheduled to come back on Tuesday.
Tuesday morning, bad pain, and the photographer walked through the door. She set up, filmed, asked questions. Pain consumed, and it was time to go to the ER. That poor photographer, she looked so worried, but she was getting the real story. She was capturing, on film, what real pain looks like. RSD is the worst pain in the world, worse than cancer or natural child birth, and she was right in the middle of it.
One of the few things I remember is the look of terror on her face.
I called my mother, begged her to hurry, to take me to the hospital.
Time passed. The reporter took photographs, filmed. I gasped for breath and struggled to keep my body from tightening against the pain; fought to stay conscious and present while my mind was trying to shut down from overload. Then I was in the car and rushing for the ER.
Vomited in my mouth, swallowed, and blacked out twice on the way. Prayers to God to give me strength; get me through one more time. Arrival, and a wait for someone to come with a gurney or wheelchair to get me inside.
They're rough getting me out of the car. Big burly police man. He embraces me, keeps me from falling to the ground, and it hurts more than he knows; could understand. Vitals where checked, and then I was rushed into a large scary room. 'Oh God, why this room,' I thought. Crash cart, machines that ping, all things medical surrounded me. My vitals must have been extreme to have put me in that room. I.V. run, drugs promised, and then I laid in wait, in pain, in prayer. Minutes ticked by like hours.
The doctor arrives, asks what is usually done for me. The nurse arrives and pumps the drugs into my system; first a needle for nausea, then a needle for pain, and lastly a needle to calm. Minutes pass, and the pain is still pretty severe, so she hits me again with another dose of pain killers.
In all they dosed me with enough dalauted and Valium to knock over a rhino, and I got off the gurney and into the wheelchair on my own. Then I wheeled myself to the exit.
The reporters where there for a lot of the time. They asked questions, and took photos. In all, the two women working on my story had been some of the most compassionate and endearing individuals I've met. Today I will send them a letter or email with all of the gratitude I can muster.
Tuesday morning, bad pain, and the photographer walked through the door. She set up, filmed, asked questions. Pain consumed, and it was time to go to the ER. That poor photographer, she looked so worried, but she was getting the real story. She was capturing, on film, what real pain looks like. RSD is the worst pain in the world, worse than cancer or natural child birth, and she was right in the middle of it.
One of the few things I remember is the look of terror on her face.
I called my mother, begged her to hurry, to take me to the hospital.
Time passed. The reporter took photographs, filmed. I gasped for breath and struggled to keep my body from tightening against the pain; fought to stay conscious and present while my mind was trying to shut down from overload. Then I was in the car and rushing for the ER.
Vomited in my mouth, swallowed, and blacked out twice on the way. Prayers to God to give me strength; get me through one more time. Arrival, and a wait for someone to come with a gurney or wheelchair to get me inside.
They're rough getting me out of the car. Big burly police man. He embraces me, keeps me from falling to the ground, and it hurts more than he knows; could understand. Vitals where checked, and then I was rushed into a large scary room. 'Oh God, why this room,' I thought. Crash cart, machines that ping, all things medical surrounded me. My vitals must have been extreme to have put me in that room. I.V. run, drugs promised, and then I laid in wait, in pain, in prayer. Minutes ticked by like hours.
The doctor arrives, asks what is usually done for me. The nurse arrives and pumps the drugs into my system; first a needle for nausea, then a needle for pain, and lastly a needle to calm. Minutes pass, and the pain is still pretty severe, so she hits me again with another dose of pain killers.
In all they dosed me with enough dalauted and Valium to knock over a rhino, and I got off the gurney and into the wheelchair on my own. Then I wheeled myself to the exit.
The reporters where there for a lot of the time. They asked questions, and took photos. In all, the two women working on my story had been some of the most compassionate and endearing individuals I've met. Today I will send them a letter or email with all of the gratitude I can muster.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Another Trip to the Hospital
Sorry for the delay in today's post. Started out a little rough and rapidly went down hill.
I had to make another trip to the hospital. Had a bout of vomit as the pain increased, and then eventually started to black out.
They shot me up with Valium and dalauted (spelling?). Didn't help the nausea much, but brought my pain down to a livable level.
The worst part of having to go to the ER is trying to get the bills sorted out. You'd think that the VA would simply pay the bill, but it's a process in and of itself that tends to take several months. Eh, several months of phone calls and work to not be in tears works for me.
I've been 'inspired' to start working on writing again, and sometime over the next couple days I'm going to start a second blog page with my work. I've also been very motivated to work on my music, though my leg isn't as motivated. I'm hoping to get some good work done this weekend.
I've been told that November is the 'Novel' month. Even if it isn't, I think I'll still use that as a motivational tool to push through getting my words on page.
I'll keep you all posted on how things progress and post links to my music and the new Blog as I progress!
Hope everyone has a great evening, and I'll post to you tomorrow.
I had to make another trip to the hospital. Had a bout of vomit as the pain increased, and then eventually started to black out.
They shot me up with Valium and dalauted (spelling?). Didn't help the nausea much, but brought my pain down to a livable level.
The worst part of having to go to the ER is trying to get the bills sorted out. You'd think that the VA would simply pay the bill, but it's a process in and of itself that tends to take several months. Eh, several months of phone calls and work to not be in tears works for me.
I've been 'inspired' to start working on writing again, and sometime over the next couple days I'm going to start a second blog page with my work. I've also been very motivated to work on my music, though my leg isn't as motivated. I'm hoping to get some good work done this weekend.
I've been told that November is the 'Novel' month. Even if it isn't, I think I'll still use that as a motivational tool to push through getting my words on page.
I'll keep you all posted on how things progress and post links to my music and the new Blog as I progress!
Hope everyone has a great evening, and I'll post to you tomorrow.
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