Hot Damn Hospitals
I had been having bouts of chest, back, neck, shoulder and jaw pain. A fullness, pressure like irritation more than actual pain but the doctor said that essentially it was pain. I know it WAS a pain, but it wasn't really painful to the point of saying 'ouch'.
It had been happening for three days and on Tuesday, the morning of the 4th day, it happened again. That time it was the ouch kind of pain. Normally Tuesday is my day off. But out of the kindness of my heart I accepted a two hour overtime assignment for that morning.
On my way up the road after acquiring my bus it started as a small, uncomfortable pressure behind my sternum. It slowly spread thru to my back and up into my neck and jaw. And as it progressed it began to hurt like hell. By the time I was done with my route it had begun to subside and sort of settled into my right upper quadrant as a dull achy pain.
I went home, told the hubby it was time to head to the ER. I was worried and getting annoyed by what I was calling the attacks. So he showered, ate a quick bite and off we went to the ER. Of course, when you go into an ER and complain of any kind of chest pain they instantly start treating you for a heart attack. I was getting blood taken every 90 minutes, blood pressure ever 15, and was being monitored with wires and tacky squares stuck onto my torso.
In 6 hours I was told I was being admitted for observation and to be ready for an early morning nuclear stress test. Joy.
The overnight stay was annoying, mostly because the room I was in was not comfortable. It was a three bed suite and I was in the bed which was the furthest from the vents. So my side of the room was hot and uncomfortable. Plus the ER nurse who had put in my IV line hadn't quite gotten it right. She placed it in the BEND of my right (and dominant) arm and apparently used too big of a shunt because I couldn't move my arm AT ALL without experiencing pain.
So sleep was nearly impossible between waking myself up when I moved around trying to get comfortable and getting shocked with the pain in my arm and the nurses coming in every hour to run vitals or check on me. Of course there was one of my two roomies that was a nuisance with her loud cell phone conversations and constant moaning.
But I digress.
So after the observation overnight I was set up for the stress test. I was wheeled downstairs and placed in a waiting room. Shortly after I arrived a nurse came to get me injected with the nuclear dye which needed to pump through my system for a half an hour before the tests could start. This was when disaster struck.
The nurse cleaned the surface of the IV line to prep it for pushing in the meds. Of course as per protocol she needed to test the line with saline first. As she began to push the saline through the line she realized it wasn't happening the way it should. I dunno, but I think the BLOOD spurting out around it might have been the obvious indicator that the line wasn't useful.
I was distressed and annoyed over this. I'd already been jabbed with needles taking blood over 6 times since I arrived in the ER the morning before. And had already had one badly installed IV job. Now the nurse was going to have to start a new IV line.
And of course I've got horrible veins that give even the most confident nurses a run for their money. So after the lovely lady had chosen her opponent she was quickly defeated when she stuck me and filled me, not my vein, up with saline (from which I have a super swell bruise now).
"No pressure but if you can't get a line in on the second try, we're calling this off." I said.
"Oh no pressure.... I'll get it started right here." she said as she thumped on the next spot she was going to try.
"No, seriously. If you can't get it in this time I'm not doing this anymore. I'll sign a waiver if I have to." I cried, yes... cried as in tears.
"A girl like you with that big ol' tattoo and those piercings and you can't handle a little IV stick?"
"Well honestly (sniffle) tattoo pain is a whole lot different that being pricked with a hollow needle repeatedly. I've been stuck now over half a dozen times in less than 24 hours. I think this will be the last one if I have any say over it, which I do because I know my patient rights."
"Well honey, here we go, big stick.... and we're in. See that wasn't so bad."
"Not for you, you're the Nurse Ratchet who gets to inflict pain not feel it."
At that she laughed and patted me on the shoulder and ordered me to sit tight while she taped it in place, injected the radio-isotope and got me ready for the scan.
The scan was annoying at best. You lay on a table while an L shaped x-ray like device moves around you. And since the technician wasn't very thorough in checking things before starting the scan, I ended up getting the flab of my upper left arm pinched as the machine made its rotation from right to left.
The scan took around 20 minutes and then it was back to a waiting area to wait for the treadmill portion of the stress test. And we all know the waiting is the hardest part. A room full of cardiac unit patients moaning and groaning and complaining. When I was finally called again for my quick walk on the treadmill I was relieved.
I was taken into a room and hooked up to more tacky squares and wires then placed on the treadmill. It started off with a lazy pace but within no time it was as if I were running uphill. I passed the test and even heavily winded managed a smile at the end just as they began to prep my IV line for another injection of radioactive dye.
I got to finish cooling off in the waiting area, with the whiners, once more. It was about an hour before they took me back into the scan room for round two. This time my arm fat managed to stay out of the way, but an unfortunate pillow didn't. The machine kept jamming up and the nurse just couldn't figure it out. She called in a doctor for help and it only took him two seconds to check the pillows.
Once cleared I was returned to the waiting area to wait for a ride back up to my room. I'd say that I was in the nuclear medicine wing for about 3.5 hours. Most of which was spent waiting. With whiners.
A few hours after I'd been returned to my room I was getting the IV out, the heart monitor removed and was just waiting for the doctor to sign off on my discharge papers. It had been determined that my problem was not cardiac related and there was nothing more that the cardiac unit could or would do with me.
The doctor did say he felt strongly that I should have my gallbladder checked, as it presents many of the same symptoms as I was exhibiting. I had already considered this and had made an appointment with my gastro doc for next Tuesday.
So when I see him I'm asking for additional testing, of which the primary one is unfortunately nuclear as well. But since I am still having the attacks and need to know why I'm asking to have it done.
I can't live this way and prefer to get it fixed as quickly as possible. I may be covered in tattoo's and have several holes in my body but I don't actually LIKE pain.
It had been happening for three days and on Tuesday, the morning of the 4th day, it happened again. That time it was the ouch kind of pain. Normally Tuesday is my day off. But out of the kindness of my heart I accepted a two hour overtime assignment for that morning.
On my way up the road after acquiring my bus it started as a small, uncomfortable pressure behind my sternum. It slowly spread thru to my back and up into my neck and jaw. And as it progressed it began to hurt like hell. By the time I was done with my route it had begun to subside and sort of settled into my right upper quadrant as a dull achy pain.
I went home, told the hubby it was time to head to the ER. I was worried and getting annoyed by what I was calling the attacks. So he showered, ate a quick bite and off we went to the ER. Of course, when you go into an ER and complain of any kind of chest pain they instantly start treating you for a heart attack. I was getting blood taken every 90 minutes, blood pressure ever 15, and was being monitored with wires and tacky squares stuck onto my torso.
In 6 hours I was told I was being admitted for observation and to be ready for an early morning nuclear stress test. Joy.
The overnight stay was annoying, mostly because the room I was in was not comfortable. It was a three bed suite and I was in the bed which was the furthest from the vents. So my side of the room was hot and uncomfortable. Plus the ER nurse who had put in my IV line hadn't quite gotten it right. She placed it in the BEND of my right (and dominant) arm and apparently used too big of a shunt because I couldn't move my arm AT ALL without experiencing pain.
So sleep was nearly impossible between waking myself up when I moved around trying to get comfortable and getting shocked with the pain in my arm and the nurses coming in every hour to run vitals or check on me. Of course there was one of my two roomies that was a nuisance with her loud cell phone conversations and constant moaning.
But I digress.
So after the observation overnight I was set up for the stress test. I was wheeled downstairs and placed in a waiting room. Shortly after I arrived a nurse came to get me injected with the nuclear dye which needed to pump through my system for a half an hour before the tests could start. This was when disaster struck.
The nurse cleaned the surface of the IV line to prep it for pushing in the meds. Of course as per protocol she needed to test the line with saline first. As she began to push the saline through the line she realized it wasn't happening the way it should. I dunno, but I think the BLOOD spurting out around it might have been the obvious indicator that the line wasn't useful.
I was distressed and annoyed over this. I'd already been jabbed with needles taking blood over 6 times since I arrived in the ER the morning before. And had already had one badly installed IV job. Now the nurse was going to have to start a new IV line.
And of course I've got horrible veins that give even the most confident nurses a run for their money. So after the lovely lady had chosen her opponent she was quickly defeated when she stuck me and filled me, not my vein, up with saline (from which I have a super swell bruise now).
"No pressure but if you can't get a line in on the second try, we're calling this off." I said.
"Oh no pressure.... I'll get it started right here." she said as she thumped on the next spot she was going to try.
"No, seriously. If you can't get it in this time I'm not doing this anymore. I'll sign a waiver if I have to." I cried, yes... cried as in tears.
"A girl like you with that big ol' tattoo and those piercings and you can't handle a little IV stick?"
"Well honestly (sniffle) tattoo pain is a whole lot different that being pricked with a hollow needle repeatedly. I've been stuck now over half a dozen times in less than 24 hours. I think this will be the last one if I have any say over it, which I do because I know my patient rights."
"Well honey, here we go, big stick.... and we're in. See that wasn't so bad."
"Not for you, you're the Nurse Ratchet who gets to inflict pain not feel it."
At that she laughed and patted me on the shoulder and ordered me to sit tight while she taped it in place, injected the radio-isotope and got me ready for the scan.
The scan was annoying at best. You lay on a table while an L shaped x-ray like device moves around you. And since the technician wasn't very thorough in checking things before starting the scan, I ended up getting the flab of my upper left arm pinched as the machine made its rotation from right to left.
The scan took around 20 minutes and then it was back to a waiting area to wait for the treadmill portion of the stress test. And we all know the waiting is the hardest part. A room full of cardiac unit patients moaning and groaning and complaining. When I was finally called again for my quick walk on the treadmill I was relieved.
I was taken into a room and hooked up to more tacky squares and wires then placed on the treadmill. It started off with a lazy pace but within no time it was as if I were running uphill. I passed the test and even heavily winded managed a smile at the end just as they began to prep my IV line for another injection of radioactive dye.
I got to finish cooling off in the waiting area, with the whiners, once more. It was about an hour before they took me back into the scan room for round two. This time my arm fat managed to stay out of the way, but an unfortunate pillow didn't. The machine kept jamming up and the nurse just couldn't figure it out. She called in a doctor for help and it only took him two seconds to check the pillows.
Once cleared I was returned to the waiting area to wait for a ride back up to my room. I'd say that I was in the nuclear medicine wing for about 3.5 hours. Most of which was spent waiting. With whiners.
A few hours after I'd been returned to my room I was getting the IV out, the heart monitor removed and was just waiting for the doctor to sign off on my discharge papers. It had been determined that my problem was not cardiac related and there was nothing more that the cardiac unit could or would do with me.
The doctor did say he felt strongly that I should have my gallbladder checked, as it presents many of the same symptoms as I was exhibiting. I had already considered this and had made an appointment with my gastro doc for next Tuesday.
So when I see him I'm asking for additional testing, of which the primary one is unfortunately nuclear as well. But since I am still having the attacks and need to know why I'm asking to have it done.
I can't live this way and prefer to get it fixed as quickly as possible. I may be covered in tattoo's and have several holes in my body but I don't actually LIKE pain.
Comments