A Very Long Summary of the Week's Events
Well, for those of you who don't know, I guess it may be important to mention my recent run-in with the medical community. Having only gone to the ER maybe once before in my life (being bitten by a dog when I was a kid), it seems odd that I've gone in twice in the past two weeks. One of the instances was far more serious than the other, I'll admit. If you're short on time, I believe the last paragraph will sum things nicely for you.
First trip was for the worst case of vertigo I've had yet. They determined it was peripheral vertigo, prescribed me medication, and sent me on my way, after hours of wait, naturally. Nothing too serious, just extremely disorienting. And that medication made me TIRED.
Second trip was on Monday. Friday night before that, I felt absolutely ill (vomitting, stabbing stomach pains, back pains, pain breathing etc.). I was convinced it was a horrible case of food poisoning but couldn't really place what it could have come from. When I seemed to be returning to health on Saturday and ultimately Sunday, I assumed I was correct and felt reassured for it. Well, apparently I was wrong. Monday morning, wake up, feel like utter shit. The abdominal pains had returned as had the back pains. But I had a test in my German class that day, so I tried to suck it up, pop an advil, take a shower, and hop on the bus. I get to campus, and the walk from the bus stop to my German class honest-to-god winded me so much I could barely open the door. One of the two students already there took one look at me and started freaking out, offering me water and such, and the other tried to convince me to leave. When my professor arrived, he noted how ridiculously pale I was and said he would let me take the test later. He walked me back to the bus stop with a great look of concern.
Once home, I tried to get up to bed as soon as I could, but walking up the stairs left me extremely lightheaded. For the next couple of hours I would continue to call my mom in decreasing levels of health. After a while I could only speak in short grunts, because every breath was shooting pain down my back. My mom kept on trying to call, to get me a sameday appointment or something, but it became increasingly obvious to me that this was more serious. By the time my mother came to pick me up I a) was grunting and moaning while speaking and breathing, b) was more pale than humanly possible (even for me), c) had a relentless stabbing pain in my shoulder that would radiate down towards my ribs at any wrong move or breath, d) could not take more than a few steps without becoming lightheaded and losing my ability to hear.
Long drive and then arrive at the ER in Vallejo, grunting in the waiting room while watching Oprah (could life be worse?), finally called in to sit in a wheelchair and wait while looking half-dead, I imagine. Taken to a bed after a while, to change into a gown and lay in a bed for hours. Many things happened in those hours in the ER. Tests and ultrasounds, doctors and nurses, lying down and . . . more lying down. My dad came to visit and actually pissed me off a lot (he was convinced I was just faking it). The final verdict: some fluid was collecting in my abdomen and the density was either that of blood or puss. I was praying for blood, because if it was puss, they said it was likely that I'd lose a very important feminine organ. So after that I just had to wait as people came in telling me all the worst things that could happen in surgery. Seeing that I've never actually had surgery before, never really had a tube breathing for me, or an IV for that matter, all this was rather scary. But the doctor said I was a rather composed and pleasant patient. I have so many anecdotes about my stay, but that would make this entry even longer. Though my favorite may be the schizophrenic patient who was talking all to loudly about Andre the Giant, suicide and math in the next bed over.
Anyway, surgery over, Aziza goes home. I officially had a ruptured ovarian cyst that caused about three days worth of blood to spill into my abdominal cavity and now I have someone elses blood in me. I spent about 17 hours total in that hospital. My mom was with me the whole time. I'm feeling better now, though I don't know when my tummy will stop feeling sore. I just know I'll have a lot of German work when I get back.
First trip was for the worst case of vertigo I've had yet. They determined it was peripheral vertigo, prescribed me medication, and sent me on my way, after hours of wait, naturally. Nothing too serious, just extremely disorienting. And that medication made me TIRED.
Second trip was on Monday. Friday night before that, I felt absolutely ill (vomitting, stabbing stomach pains, back pains, pain breathing etc.). I was convinced it was a horrible case of food poisoning but couldn't really place what it could have come from. When I seemed to be returning to health on Saturday and ultimately Sunday, I assumed I was correct and felt reassured for it. Well, apparently I was wrong. Monday morning, wake up, feel like utter shit. The abdominal pains had returned as had the back pains. But I had a test in my German class that day, so I tried to suck it up, pop an advil, take a shower, and hop on the bus. I get to campus, and the walk from the bus stop to my German class honest-to-god winded me so much I could barely open the door. One of the two students already there took one look at me and started freaking out, offering me water and such, and the other tried to convince me to leave. When my professor arrived, he noted how ridiculously pale I was and said he would let me take the test later. He walked me back to the bus stop with a great look of concern.
Once home, I tried to get up to bed as soon as I could, but walking up the stairs left me extremely lightheaded. For the next couple of hours I would continue to call my mom in decreasing levels of health. After a while I could only speak in short grunts, because every breath was shooting pain down my back. My mom kept on trying to call, to get me a sameday appointment or something, but it became increasingly obvious to me that this was more serious. By the time my mother came to pick me up I a) was grunting and moaning while speaking and breathing, b) was more pale than humanly possible (even for me), c) had a relentless stabbing pain in my shoulder that would radiate down towards my ribs at any wrong move or breath, d) could not take more than a few steps without becoming lightheaded and losing my ability to hear.
Long drive and then arrive at the ER in Vallejo, grunting in the waiting room while watching Oprah (could life be worse?), finally called in to sit in a wheelchair and wait while looking half-dead, I imagine. Taken to a bed after a while, to change into a gown and lay in a bed for hours. Many things happened in those hours in the ER. Tests and ultrasounds, doctors and nurses, lying down and . . . more lying down. My dad came to visit and actually pissed me off a lot (he was convinced I was just faking it). The final verdict: some fluid was collecting in my abdomen and the density was either that of blood or puss. I was praying for blood, because if it was puss, they said it was likely that I'd lose a very important feminine organ. So after that I just had to wait as people came in telling me all the worst things that could happen in surgery. Seeing that I've never actually had surgery before, never really had a tube breathing for me, or an IV for that matter, all this was rather scary. But the doctor said I was a rather composed and pleasant patient. I have so many anecdotes about my stay, but that would make this entry even longer. Though my favorite may be the schizophrenic patient who was talking all to loudly about Andre the Giant, suicide and math in the next bed over.
Anyway, surgery over, Aziza goes home. I officially had a ruptured ovarian cyst that caused about three days worth of blood to spill into my abdominal cavity and now I have someone elses blood in me. I spent about 17 hours total in that hospital. My mom was with me the whole time. I'm feeling better now, though I don't know when my tummy will stop feeling sore. I just know I'll have a lot of German work when I get back.