| I seem to start trouble wherever I go |
[May. 29th, 2008|12:09 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cynical | ] |
Another trip to the hospital. I've just gotten back, in fact. It started Monday with that dry, rough hacking. I was sure it was the summer cold coming on. Then Tuesday morning I had a temp of 104, and dry rough hack. I was up a couple hours in the morning and went back to bed. I got up early evening, was up for a couple more hours, took some nyquil, and went back to bed again. I woke up about 11pm. My breathing was really heavy, and since I used the last of my steroid inhaler 2 or 3 weeks ago, I burned through my last albuteral inhaler in 8 days, instead of 25. I was down to an old emergency inhaler, and it just wasn't doing it's job. Normally, I would have tried to ride it out and see if it gets better instead of worse. However, since I didn't have my wife here to call 911 for me, and help me get dressed and unlock the gate to let the paramedics in and hold the dogs back, I figure if it got worse instead of better I would be in deep shit. So, while I was still able to drive, I got dressed and headed out to Hurley Hospital.
When I walked into the emergency entrance I was barely able to walk, and obviously desperately gasping for air. For those of you who've never experienced the wonderful adventures of asthma, imagine sucking air through two of those coffee-stirring straws, on your back, while somebody is standing on your chest. Make sure you do this for a good hour to get the full effect. Anyway... I was actually stopped by the security guard. More than stopped. I was made to walk through the metal detector. Not just once. I was made to empty every single item in all my pockets. My jacket too. I took off my belt. My shoes have metal rings around where the laces go through. My jacket has a metal zipper. All this while desperately gasping for air in primal survival mode. I actually fell down, twice. Once, I knocked over the basket with all my things in it. I was on my hands and knees trying to gather everything up, not sure if I was going to pass out or be able to stand up again, and she was screaming at me at the top of her lungs to stand up. I was truly expecting her to kick me in the ribs. She finally settled on confiscating my 1998 Leatherman original (which they don't make any more) and opens up into a pair of pliers. I actually had to check when I got home to see if there is indeed a knife blade in there. And then, I had to fill out a form for my leatherman tool. I spent a good 10 minutes, maybe more, before I was let into the hospital area.
I then spent another 10 minutes talking to two nurses who gathered information between gasps of air. When I coughed, one stood up and backed away as if I carried the plague. Pretty unprofessional for a hospital, but anyway... Then I was put in a wheelchair and sat in a hallway for another good 15 minutes or so. Finally, I got a room, then another 10 minutes or so before I got a doctor and actual treatment began. Jesusfuckingchrist next time I will just call 911 and they can begin treatment before I get to the hospital!
Eventually, they brought in an x-ray machine, and drew enough blood that I had to make sure they saved some for me. I got a few other injections, one or two bags of saline, and a bag of pale fluorescent-green anti-biotic. I was promised a regular room, but it took almost 12 hours for that to happen. I did see actual doctors a couple times, always with a good handful of students tagging along. One doctor only seemed interested in the odd fact that I do have psoriasis, but _not_ on my elbows or knees.
I tried to get proper permission to leave. I was feeling much better, and my pulse-ox was reading 96%. Yes, they still heard wheezing in my lungs, but it was from the gunk I haven't coughed up, not inflammation, and that isn't going away before tomorrow anyway. They don't have meds to give out, today or tomorrow, so that won't change either. My temp was down to it's normal icy 97. And I have animals that need attention in the house. So, I left, AMA, against medical advice. My primary reason is that I could live with having to go right back to the ER a lot easier than I could live with spending too long and having the animals suffer for it. Total time: 22 hours.
And believe me, I made a serious complaint about the security guard. Now, I do understand the necessity of having security guards and even metal detectors. I'm sure they've had to treat rival gang members right next to each other. But this is completely overboard. When I made the complaint, I made sure to use the legal phrase "denied medical services". I also made sure to remind them that even the army considers the restriction of breathing to be a form of torture, and that my condition was willfully prolonged by a member in Hurley's employee. Before I left, the patient-advocate was kind enough to inform me that they had started a full investigation. Good. On a somewhat amusing note, as I was leaving and while I picked up my property from security, at least 5 or 6 healthy looking people entered through the metal detector, every one setting it off, and not even one given a second look. My influence? Doubtful. Occam's razor would say it's more likely I got one security guard with an ego trip.
So tomorrow, I have to burn more gas and take a trip to my county health plan approved doctor and catch up on the results from Hurley that won't be in until tomorrow anyway. Then my doctor gets to charge for a visit, and he can write me some scripts that I probably can't fill. But for now, I'm fine.
LM |
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