(no subject)
So I just got back from the hospital.
I woke up this morning repeating the morning before it. I had a horrible throbbing, crunching pain on my left back side. No matter which position I moved in the pain would not cease. I tried to go to the bathroom repeatedly, to relieve the pressure on my bladder but again - nothing. Judging from the previous day's outcome, I decided to induce vomiting. I did. Lo and behold, nothing there either. Dry heaving comes, scratchy and sickly. Then stomach acid - greenish and yellow and clear. I'm sobbing over this disgusting dorm toilet, holding myself and praying the pain will stop. Terri comes in. I ask her to take me to the emergency room.
Before we even get in the car, I'm vomiting again. I can't stop. My glands are salivating so much that I just leave my mouth open and let it pour out. Yellow and acidic, it burns holes in the back of my teeth. We get there and we wait and wait and wait. I'm writhing in pain, wading through paperwork. Finally they admit me.
The nurse wants a piss sample. I tell her that's not possible. She tells me it's that or the catheter. So I try. I sit for 20 minutes hoping somehow something will come. But it doesn't and I submit myself to this barbaric ritual. "Just relax your legs" she coos. Easier said than done. You're not the one getting a plastic tube up your urethra and into your bladder without any form of anesthesia, are you? Finally it's in and guess what? No fucking urine. Nothing. I'm completely dehydrated. So why do I have an overwhelming urge to piss constantly? My bladder is infected and inflamed and being pressed down on. Ok. Fine. No urine? We'll just hydrate you. So I get the IVs. And then they move me to CT and I pause the process to hurl all the liquid just pumped into my body into an wheat-yellow bedpan. They check out my kidneys.
They bring me back to the ER. It's been four hours at this point. The feeble medication they gave me earlier is already wearing thin and I start to feel the pain again. I ask for something else. As she injects the syringe I ask her what it is and barely hear her say "morphine" before I feel a huge heaviness sweep over my body and all sound is far away from me. I spend the next two and a half hours in between sleep and groggily analyzing the ceiling above me. I call my mother and father and tell them what's happened. They sound concerned. I fall back asleep.
The doctor comes in and hands me my prescription, announcing I have colitis, or an inflammation of the colon, and an infection growing in the jejunum of my intestine. This is characterized, he says, by diarrhea and bloody stools. I'm still pretty high when he tells me all this so I nod along, but he's completely full of shit - no pun intended. My problem was with my urine, not bowel movements. I had a fucking UTI that spread. The nurse even agreed with me. Regardless the antibiotics he prescribed will do the same thing, regardless of a misdiagnosis.
Vicodin prescription!
I woke up this morning repeating the morning before it. I had a horrible throbbing, crunching pain on my left back side. No matter which position I moved in the pain would not cease. I tried to go to the bathroom repeatedly, to relieve the pressure on my bladder but again - nothing. Judging from the previous day's outcome, I decided to induce vomiting. I did. Lo and behold, nothing there either. Dry heaving comes, scratchy and sickly. Then stomach acid - greenish and yellow and clear. I'm sobbing over this disgusting dorm toilet, holding myself and praying the pain will stop. Terri comes in. I ask her to take me to the emergency room.
Before we even get in the car, I'm vomiting again. I can't stop. My glands are salivating so much that I just leave my mouth open and let it pour out. Yellow and acidic, it burns holes in the back of my teeth. We get there and we wait and wait and wait. I'm writhing in pain, wading through paperwork. Finally they admit me.
The nurse wants a piss sample. I tell her that's not possible. She tells me it's that or the catheter. So I try. I sit for 20 minutes hoping somehow something will come. But it doesn't and I submit myself to this barbaric ritual. "Just relax your legs" she coos. Easier said than done. You're not the one getting a plastic tube up your urethra and into your bladder without any form of anesthesia, are you? Finally it's in and guess what? No fucking urine. Nothing. I'm completely dehydrated. So why do I have an overwhelming urge to piss constantly? My bladder is infected and inflamed and being pressed down on. Ok. Fine. No urine? We'll just hydrate you. So I get the IVs. And then they move me to CT and I pause the process to hurl all the liquid just pumped into my body into an wheat-yellow bedpan. They check out my kidneys.
They bring me back to the ER. It's been four hours at this point. The feeble medication they gave me earlier is already wearing thin and I start to feel the pain again. I ask for something else. As she injects the syringe I ask her what it is and barely hear her say "morphine" before I feel a huge heaviness sweep over my body and all sound is far away from me. I spend the next two and a half hours in between sleep and groggily analyzing the ceiling above me. I call my mother and father and tell them what's happened. They sound concerned. I fall back asleep.
The doctor comes in and hands me my prescription, announcing I have colitis, or an inflammation of the colon, and an infection growing in the jejunum of my intestine. This is characterized, he says, by diarrhea and bloody stools. I'm still pretty high when he tells me all this so I nod along, but he's completely full of shit - no pun intended. My problem was with my urine, not bowel movements. I had a fucking UTI that spread. The nurse even agreed with me. Regardless the antibiotics he prescribed will do the same thing, regardless of a misdiagnosis.
Vicodin prescription!