(no subject)
So I totally passed out at work yesterday. Not just passed out at work, actually, but in my boss's office, in front of my boss. *facepalm* No warning, no good reason, nothing. I'd just eaten some almonds, gone to the ladies room, walked down the hall. I had stopped in to pick up my shirt for the new product launch, and John was checking his spreadsheet for my shirt size, then turned around to get it out of the box - and he's like, Why did the lights go out? And turns around to find me out cold in a pile on the floor. I'd hit the light switch on the way down it seems.
So I come to (after the crazy-ass dreams you have while passed out) after something between one and five minutes. John's on the phone with site security calling an ambulance in a not-quite panicky voice and at least two of my engineers are in the room staring, while I can see all sorts of little heads trying to peek in around the door frame. At this point I would very much like to melt into the floor and vanish, but decide for their sakes that I won't.
There then proceeds some trying to sit up, which doesn't go so well. I didn't pass back out but did get very dizzy. Ice and damp paper towels were fetched. John gave me one of his bottled waters. We propped my legs up on a chair and somebody finds my glasses, which apparently also hit the wall as I went down as there's a big scuff and scratch on the right lens. Well, I needed new glasses anyway! (It turns out I was able to buff it out with my teeth. I was very bored later on).
So the site ERT shows up and they ask if I want to go to the hospital. Since it's now been a fair while and I still feel like crap, I agree that this is probably a good idea. I send Dave B after my wallet and mutter something about 'there goes my vacation fund!' which prompts Dave R. to share about the time he passed out while working at (unnamed Dallas-based semiconductor fab) and how they paid for his hospital visit AND gave him four paid days off. While he shares this story he's staring straight at John, which was hilarious. Then the ambulance guys show up and despite being technically part of the fire department they're ok folks. Ya'll know I have irrational fire department issues. So they help me out of John's floor and onto a stretcher, and the whole time I just want to die because this is THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING EVER. I thought I heard someone say something about getting a picture and I believe I said something about if you take a picture of this I will kill you.
I guess that wasn't taken too seriously as I still have a job.
So we then proceed to the ambulance. I mention that I've never been in an ambulance. There's a stuffed monkey hanging from the handrail over the stretcher bay, which was a cute touch, and they've adopted the local baseball team's logo as their mascot so Mr. Legend is painted on the back windows. Then they stick an IV port in my hand and I mention that I've never had an IV, and somebody else take my blood sugar. I wonder if I should mention that I had been handling a banana earlier that morning and decide the EMTs are probably not as current on their medical journal reading as I am, not to mention that I felt talking about handling a banana might just end up embarrassing me further. Somehow. They ask if I get carsick and I proceed to overshare about how resistant to carsickness I am. So we go to UK hospital. I notice about halfway there that the bloody siren is on and I consider telling them they really don't have to do that unless they just feel like going fast for some reason.
We get to the hospital. There are surprisingly long stretches of the trip I don't remember, though I apparently didn't pass out any while in the ambulance. I remember thanking the EMT after taking my glucose reading though. I don't think they often get thanks for sticking people, though I was more thanking them for warning me before doing so. At some point they decided I needed oxygen so I found a tube in my nose when we got there.
Onward to room 37 in the new UK ER, where I spend the next couple of hours, get blood taken, get an IV of saline solution. The nurse tried to help me to the bathroom to give a urine sample and I passed out in her arms, though only for a moment or two. She tells me she thinks this is definitely not pregnancy related, which reminds me that David B had been asking if I was pregnant back in John's office, as well as mentioning that he had a crucifix in his office if anyone felt that a quick exorcism was in order! *LOL* I love Dave, he's awesome. And no, I'm not pregnant. I got sort of annoyed with the doctor when she also asked if I could be pregnant. Oy.
So. Then I wait several hours for blood tests to be finished. I got moved to room 55, which had a functional blood pressure/heart rate/blood O2/EKG system. My IV ran out but no one offered to take the port out. I decide that IVs suck. Eventually someone gets in touch with N, and he shows up around 3 o'clock. We then sit around for a few more hours. Another bathroom trip, this one less eventful. The tech, Whitney, asks if I would like some food. I am starving at this point (it's 5 o'clock or so and I've been there since just before 10) and happily eat my turkey sandwich. N tells me I have to eat the apple sauce too, which prompts a very cranky rant about apple sauce and how my butt hurts from sitting in this bed all day and my hand hurts and I want to go home. We then joke about how much we'll be charged for his can of Coke. I said that I assumed it would be billed under my account and we'd get the insurance discount, so it was ok, it'd only be $5.
At one point a transport tech walks in and asks if I'm ready for my endoscopy, then gives a very concerned glance at my lunch tray and asks if I'd eaten. N and I are both looking horrified and sputter something about what endoscopy and I think you have the wrong patient. She did in fact have the wrong room.
Around 7 o'clock, after walking two laps of the ER with Whitney, I am finally discharged with a diagnosis of 'syncope, cause unknown' and referred to the Gill Heart Institute, which I had just visited in October due to an abnormal EKG that knocked me out of being a test subject in a plague vaccine trial. The only thing the ER found in all their testing was a little bit of ketone in my urine, which baffled my doc as I had eaten a normal breakfast, only biked three miles that morning, and had perfect glucose levels. I got told to avoid strenuous exercise for a couple of days, get myself a GP, and come back if my symptoms didn't improve. Whatever that meant, as my only symptom was randomly passing out in my boss's office and I had NO intention of that happening again. We walked home uneventfully and stopped at Ovid's for dinner along the way.
So yeah. That was my excitement. Fortunately people were NOT lined up outside my office this morning to ask what had happened and offer their sympathies, though the people I did encounter were very kind and no one teased me at all. Thank god, because I would have melted into the floor or perhaps gone and hid in the bathroom for an hour.
So I come to (after the crazy-ass dreams you have while passed out) after something between one and five minutes. John's on the phone with site security calling an ambulance in a not-quite panicky voice and at least two of my engineers are in the room staring, while I can see all sorts of little heads trying to peek in around the door frame. At this point I would very much like to melt into the floor and vanish, but decide for their sakes that I won't.
There then proceeds some trying to sit up, which doesn't go so well. I didn't pass back out but did get very dizzy. Ice and damp paper towels were fetched. John gave me one of his bottled waters. We propped my legs up on a chair and somebody finds my glasses, which apparently also hit the wall as I went down as there's a big scuff and scratch on the right lens. Well, I needed new glasses anyway! (It turns out I was able to buff it out with my teeth. I was very bored later on).
So the site ERT shows up and they ask if I want to go to the hospital. Since it's now been a fair while and I still feel like crap, I agree that this is probably a good idea. I send Dave B after my wallet and mutter something about 'there goes my vacation fund!' which prompts Dave R. to share about the time he passed out while working at (unnamed Dallas-based semiconductor fab) and how they paid for his hospital visit AND gave him four paid days off. While he shares this story he's staring straight at John, which was hilarious. Then the ambulance guys show up and despite being technically part of the fire department they're ok folks. Ya'll know I have irrational fire department issues. So they help me out of John's floor and onto a stretcher, and the whole time I just want to die because this is THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING EVER. I thought I heard someone say something about getting a picture and I believe I said something about if you take a picture of this I will kill you.
I guess that wasn't taken too seriously as I still have a job.
So we then proceed to the ambulance. I mention that I've never been in an ambulance. There's a stuffed monkey hanging from the handrail over the stretcher bay, which was a cute touch, and they've adopted the local baseball team's logo as their mascot so Mr. Legend is painted on the back windows. Then they stick an IV port in my hand and I mention that I've never had an IV, and somebody else take my blood sugar. I wonder if I should mention that I had been handling a banana earlier that morning and decide the EMTs are probably not as current on their medical journal reading as I am, not to mention that I felt talking about handling a banana might just end up embarrassing me further. Somehow. They ask if I get carsick and I proceed to overshare about how resistant to carsickness I am. So we go to UK hospital. I notice about halfway there that the bloody siren is on and I consider telling them they really don't have to do that unless they just feel like going fast for some reason.
We get to the hospital. There are surprisingly long stretches of the trip I don't remember, though I apparently didn't pass out any while in the ambulance. I remember thanking the EMT after taking my glucose reading though. I don't think they often get thanks for sticking people, though I was more thanking them for warning me before doing so. At some point they decided I needed oxygen so I found a tube in my nose when we got there.
Onward to room 37 in the new UK ER, where I spend the next couple of hours, get blood taken, get an IV of saline solution. The nurse tried to help me to the bathroom to give a urine sample and I passed out in her arms, though only for a moment or two. She tells me she thinks this is definitely not pregnancy related, which reminds me that David B had been asking if I was pregnant back in John's office, as well as mentioning that he had a crucifix in his office if anyone felt that a quick exorcism was in order! *LOL* I love Dave, he's awesome. And no, I'm not pregnant. I got sort of annoyed with the doctor when she also asked if I could be pregnant. Oy.
So. Then I wait several hours for blood tests to be finished. I got moved to room 55, which had a functional blood pressure/heart rate/blood O2/EKG system. My IV ran out but no one offered to take the port out. I decide that IVs suck. Eventually someone gets in touch with N, and he shows up around 3 o'clock. We then sit around for a few more hours. Another bathroom trip, this one less eventful. The tech, Whitney, asks if I would like some food. I am starving at this point (it's 5 o'clock or so and I've been there since just before 10) and happily eat my turkey sandwich. N tells me I have to eat the apple sauce too, which prompts a very cranky rant about apple sauce and how my butt hurts from sitting in this bed all day and my hand hurts and I want to go home. We then joke about how much we'll be charged for his can of Coke. I said that I assumed it would be billed under my account and we'd get the insurance discount, so it was ok, it'd only be $5.
At one point a transport tech walks in and asks if I'm ready for my endoscopy, then gives a very concerned glance at my lunch tray and asks if I'd eaten. N and I are both looking horrified and sputter something about what endoscopy and I think you have the wrong patient. She did in fact have the wrong room.
Around 7 o'clock, after walking two laps of the ER with Whitney, I am finally discharged with a diagnosis of 'syncope, cause unknown' and referred to the Gill Heart Institute, which I had just visited in October due to an abnormal EKG that knocked me out of being a test subject in a plague vaccine trial. The only thing the ER found in all their testing was a little bit of ketone in my urine, which baffled my doc as I had eaten a normal breakfast, only biked three miles that morning, and had perfect glucose levels. I got told to avoid strenuous exercise for a couple of days, get myself a GP, and come back if my symptoms didn't improve. Whatever that meant, as my only symptom was randomly passing out in my boss's office and I had NO intention of that happening again. We walked home uneventfully and stopped at Ovid's for dinner along the way.
So yeah. That was my excitement. Fortunately people were NOT lined up outside my office this morning to ask what had happened and offer their sympathies, though the people I did encounter were very kind and no one teased me at all. Thank god, because I would have melted into the floor or perhaps gone and hid in the bathroom for an hour.