My night at the emergency room.

This is a book. Beware.

This has been a week for sure. I’ve been battling a migraine. It comes and goes like usual but something told me this one was the same one all week and it was just itching to blow up.

And it did.

It blew.

Big time.

Sean has been working crazy hours so I had to call him at work about 10 o’clock to come home and take me to the hospital.  He was on his way anyway so it worked out.

I changed into my “fancy” sweats.  Read: clean.  Fairly new.  No holes and they don’t sag.

MT wanted to come with us so we all piled in and off we drove.

Mr. Congeniality was at  the front desk and after checking me in he said, “Go ahead and take a seat ~but I should just tell you now, it’s a pretty long wait.”

Translation:  Really, you might want to just go home. It’s not worth it.

Um.  Thanks Mr. Congeniality guy.  But we are still having the emergency we came to the emergency room for so…we’ll just take our seat.

They called me back to get my vitals where I was greeted by his conspirator. This woman didn’t have a warm bone in her whole body.  She asked me 500 questions, to include every single drug I take (it’s an extensive list…I don’t take them all at once) and what they are for (she hadn’t heard of any of them!) and how do I spell them and how many milligrams.  Lady…right now I’m not sure I could tell you my name.

My favorite question was, “are you still getting your period?”

My answer, “good Lord, how old do I look?”  No smile. No grimace.  Deadpan.  She didn’t even look at me.  Just. waited.  Okay then.  Yes, and thanks for asking.  I suppose we should have drinks or something now.

Eventually they took me back and the Nurse Practitioner (I’m calling him Dr. Gotcha for convenience) came in and he was awesome and helpful.  He understood every answer (get it? He said, “Gotcha” a lot).  And he was nice.  Imagine that.  He told me the regimen they used to do is old.They don’t do that anymore.  Hm.

Nurse Mike came in.  He hooked me up with an IV and then proceeded to tell me how in the “old days” (presumably the way I used to have things done??) they just treated you with pain meds and sent you home. Now they have a special cocktail that works to actually treat the migraine rather than the pain.

He lost me at “old days”.

So after what seemed hours (no, really, I think it was hours), I got my pain meds and besides nearly throwing up on Nurse Mike (I’d been horribly nauseous for hours), I felt “better” immediately.  By better I mean, I was knocked virtually unconscious and completely stoned.  Somewhere in there I think the migraine was treated but it seems to me it was just shown the door.

Getting me out of the hospital was a trick.  There was no “Officer and a Gentleman” moment.  Nope.  I walked like I had jello legs and I hung onto Sean and MT. It was sexy as hell.  Hey…I was wearing the good sweats, remember?  The slurring.  Oh my gosh, the slurring.  I couldn’t talk straight to save my life.

Went to bed.  It was 3am.  We woke up super late at 7:30am. It’s Jeans day so I get to wear my comfy jeans and I grabbed a black tank and a black sweater I had hanging in the closet.  I dressed in the dark.  Then downstairs I grabbed a warm sweater to wear over the cute sweater because I’m always cold.  It’s a layering trick I learned that works wonders for me.

Everyone got everywhere late but me.  I went to work with my piece of paper from the doctor saying I’m not supposed to be at work and offered to sell it to anyone that wanted a copy for $10 a piece.  That sucker is gold. A little white out and you, too, can be excused from work by the doctor.

I stayed for an hour at which time my boss said, “go home”. She followed it up with a polite whisper in my ear…”your sweater is inside out”.  LOL.  That’s hilarious.  I told her I dressed in the dark and she seemed somewhat reassured I was not a completely stoned. I was pretty humiliated though, when I realized I was going to become the woman who wore her clothes inside out and had ten cats.

I’m tired and my ego has taken a real hit.  I mean, I haven’t felt this bad since the mole incident (we don’t really speak of it).  Tomorrow I’ll rally.  I have faith.




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