this is why i hate everything
Yesterday, while I was at work, I started feeling sick. I puked a couple of times and felt okay enough to keep working until around 2, 2:30, when I couldn't stop dryheaving, so I went home.
When I got home, my dad tried to give me about a tablespoon of warm, flat ginger-ale and it made me feel a million times worse. After an hour of agony in which everything hurt, I finally vomited everything ever in my stomach and some things that couldn't possibly have been there. I mean, honestly, I must have just been bringing up bits of my digestive system by that point because I had only eaten half a scone all day.
I passed out, afterwards, and woke up about an hour later and had a sip of water. A SIP OF WATER. Like, not even a mouthful. AND MY STOMACH STARTED CRAMPING UP AGAIN. It was awful. I tried to sleep a bit, but eventually, my parents took me to the emergency room.
I foolishly thought that everything would be over quickly. We weren't even waiting a half hour before they put me in a room and then the nurse and resident visited me almost immediately and told me that pretty much the plan was to load me up with fluids (by this point I had a splitting headache from the dehydration) and stick me with some anti-nausea medications and I'd be home shortly.
HA. HAHAHAHA.
I should have known I was in for a long night when the nurse couldn't find a vein. I have bad veins as it is, and the dehydration was only making it worse. She tried my left arm and then my right and couldn't get a vein in either place, so she called in another nurse who finally managed to get an IV started in my right arm. She took blood and then, whatever, they did something else, only to find that the vein had blown.
They tried a couple of times to get another vein, but it was useless. I hate needles, guys, and I was exhausted and sick and sore and incredibly unhappy. They told me they had two options, I could see if I could drink some water to rehydrate so it would be easier to find a vein, or they could bring in an ultrasound machine and try and find a vein that way.
At this point, it's ten-thirty-ish and we've been there for two hours and I haven't vomited AND they've stuck me with the anti-nausea stuff, so I'm like, "Okay, I'll try some water." Over the course of an hour, I managed to get about 2/3 of the cup of water down before I started to feel sick again, so I stopped. My mom told the nurse and she was like, "Okay, we'll have the doctor come back with the ultrasound machine in a little bit."
"A little bit" was literally hours. Everything hurt. I kept crying. I was uncomfortable and sick and my head hurt and people kept coming in to wake me up to take my blood pressure. When the doctor finally came back with the ultrasound machine at like, two am, he stuck me four times and still couldn't get a vein. I was crying uncontrollably at this point, and eventually they gave up and the doctor said they had a couple of options--send me home and have me try and rehydrate there, with the option of coming back if it got worse, trying to get an IV in my leg, or... something else, I can't remember. I really just wanted to go home.
So, three-thirty, I finally left the fucking hospital and got back home, after SIX HOURS in which they did PRETTY MUCH NOTHING AT ALL. It was horrible.
I called out of work today and I'm feeling slightly better, but still pretty miserable. UGH. GUYS. I CAN'T KEEP CALLING OUT OF WORK. I NEED THE MONEY. ALSO, I HAVE SHIT TO DO.
When I got home, my dad tried to give me about a tablespoon of warm, flat ginger-ale and it made me feel a million times worse. After an hour of agony in which everything hurt, I finally vomited everything ever in my stomach and some things that couldn't possibly have been there. I mean, honestly, I must have just been bringing up bits of my digestive system by that point because I had only eaten half a scone all day.
I passed out, afterwards, and woke up about an hour later and had a sip of water. A SIP OF WATER. Like, not even a mouthful. AND MY STOMACH STARTED CRAMPING UP AGAIN. It was awful. I tried to sleep a bit, but eventually, my parents took me to the emergency room.
I foolishly thought that everything would be over quickly. We weren't even waiting a half hour before they put me in a room and then the nurse and resident visited me almost immediately and told me that pretty much the plan was to load me up with fluids (by this point I had a splitting headache from the dehydration) and stick me with some anti-nausea medications and I'd be home shortly.
HA. HAHAHAHA.
I should have known I was in for a long night when the nurse couldn't find a vein. I have bad veins as it is, and the dehydration was only making it worse. She tried my left arm and then my right and couldn't get a vein in either place, so she called in another nurse who finally managed to get an IV started in my right arm. She took blood and then, whatever, they did something else, only to find that the vein had blown.
They tried a couple of times to get another vein, but it was useless. I hate needles, guys, and I was exhausted and sick and sore and incredibly unhappy. They told me they had two options, I could see if I could drink some water to rehydrate so it would be easier to find a vein, or they could bring in an ultrasound machine and try and find a vein that way.
At this point, it's ten-thirty-ish and we've been there for two hours and I haven't vomited AND they've stuck me with the anti-nausea stuff, so I'm like, "Okay, I'll try some water." Over the course of an hour, I managed to get about 2/3 of the cup of water down before I started to feel sick again, so I stopped. My mom told the nurse and she was like, "Okay, we'll have the doctor come back with the ultrasound machine in a little bit."
"A little bit" was literally hours. Everything hurt. I kept crying. I was uncomfortable and sick and my head hurt and people kept coming in to wake me up to take my blood pressure. When the doctor finally came back with the ultrasound machine at like, two am, he stuck me four times and still couldn't get a vein. I was crying uncontrollably at this point, and eventually they gave up and the doctor said they had a couple of options--send me home and have me try and rehydrate there, with the option of coming back if it got worse, trying to get an IV in my leg, or... something else, I can't remember. I really just wanted to go home.
So, three-thirty, I finally left the fucking hospital and got back home, after SIX HOURS in which they did PRETTY MUCH NOTHING AT ALL. It was horrible.
I called out of work today and I'm feeling slightly better, but still pretty miserable. UGH. GUYS. I CAN'T KEEP CALLING OUT OF WORK. I NEED THE MONEY. ALSO, I HAVE SHIT TO DO.