Okay so I went to the ER a couple of days ago since my back spasm, turned into a total body spasm and for whatever reason my skin decided it wasn't happy unless I was cuddled in absolute soft and plushness. It's GA the heat and humidity when dressed like a polar bear just isn't going to work. So it got to the point of I just couldn't wait to see my PCP, he didn't have anything available until the end of the week and this was just the start of it.

So off to the ER we go, my mom brought me down. The ER doc looked me over, got a chest x-ray because I was having difficulty breathing and they couldn't seem to understand that it was the muscles around the lungs making it difficult not the lungs themselves. But either way it was clear, no obvious problems blood work showed some inflammation but didn't really indicate what was inflamed or why. She consulted my neurologist who suggested it was likely the virus that's spreading around down here, take some advil and drink plenty of fluids, get plenty of rest.

Okay, until I tried to follow the doctor's orders. By the next evening I was in so much pain I couldn't even think straight. My entire left side was lit up like a Christmas tree with pain. I could only just barely manage to catch my breath in between chest spasms. I couldn't even say which part of the left side hurt the worse, I mean it felt like someone had just divided my body completely in half and proceeded to only run over, beat, stab, burn, scrap...etc... the left half of my body.

My mom came and brought me to the ER again, by the time we drove down there, what I had already thought couldn't get worse, did get worse from all the little bumps in the roads and other little minor vibrations and such that comes from car rides. So when they called me back for triage I couldn't even begin to articulate what was wrong. My mind was kind of soupy jello and only focused on, breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, wait for spasm to finish, breath again...

My mom was doing most of the talking. And explained to the triage nurse. Look my daughter has MS, she's prone to hypersensitivity, she has terrible spasms that are just barely controlled by her home medications but anything else happens to her and they don't work at all. On and on she goes trying to get some understanding from the triage nurse since she's the one who puts through the immediate symptoms and passes them along to the doctor.

The place is packed, we have a long wait ahead of us. We were there for about 2 hours when my left ear started ringing and the right side of my head split open with pain, pretty much taking away my ability to focus on breathing, so my lips started going blue. My mom manages to get me rushed to the back somehow for an EKG and some blood work drawn. The nurse drawing the blood doesn't care that I'm clearly dehydrated and already have been poked a few times from the day before. She puts a straight line in to draw her blood work and shots me back out to the waiting area.

By now my mother is ready to head to another hospital further south, or call an ambulance something, anything. My lips are blue, I'm barely maintaining consciousness and I stopped sweating about an hour ago. And since my hold on my consciousness is so frail, my body is now vibrating and jerking around like a marionette with a drunken master.

We finally get called back, for good this time. And now they have to put in an IV line which should have been put in when the nurse was drawing the blood earlier but wasn't. She took prime property on the veins and left the other nurses with little to deal with. Especially since I was even more dehydrated at that point and far more rigid in the limbs. Finally that had to call the manager of the nursing department over to use an ultrasound to find a useable vein, barely useable, but useable all the same.

I got fluids started right away, and couldn't help but think "Hurray this nightmare should be over now!!!" Well I had no idea it was just beginning.
My first doctor ah... such a sweet sweet doctor. I adored her, and it really had nothing to do with her prescribing narcotics for pain because honestly they didn't work for nothing on an empty stomach and a system getting flushed out by fluids. She was just very tender handed, calm, soothing and reassuring. Come to find out I had a terrible UTI as at least one of the things wrong with me. And she asked, did I notice anything... No, nothing, not until the pain started and it started as spasms not anything to do with a UTI, I was using the restroom fine, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not using it particularly more or less. I couldn't believe I had one, I've only ever had one a long long time ago and it was given to me by a gyno.

Anyways she offers to admit me there, or she could send me to a hospital further south that's part of my physicians group. Option 2, option 2... why didn't I pick option 2. But no, in my sudden mostly pain free state and not quite fully oxygenated brain, I say I'll stay there.

Enter day 2 at still down in the ER bay since the hospital is packed and dippy the wonder nurse and doctor 2. My DH came down to relieve my mom from watching me at the hospital, and gets handed a menu to bring into my room to order breakfast for me. We pick out a few things that seem like they might be appeitizing, and place our order, it should be dropped off in about 45 mins. Perfect, puts it before pill time, finally I'll have something in my system. Well our breakfast doesn't show up, nurse comes and gives me my pills anyways despite my best efforts to tell her that 2 of them can't be taken on an empty stomach, please, fruit juice even I don't care just something in the stomach before those hit.

Naturally she ignores me and says I have the IV fluids I'll be fine. So down the hatch they have to go, and 10 minutes later I'm ready to find her so I can puke on her shoes. Instead I'm left dry heaving for about 20 minutes. And as it turns out our tray was just outside the door when she was giving me the pills, because it wasn't picked up the cafeteria place thought it meant I ordered things not on my diet plan and took it back. So we had to have another tray sent up, all told it was 3 hours before I got breakfast. And after dry heaving through 20 minutes in the middle of that, I wasn't especially hungry when I did get it.

Well then the nurse has the audacity to tell an assisting nurse how we better do better when ordering out lunch, somehow it was "our fault" that our breakfast didn't get delivered for 3 hours. , but okay fine whatever. I figure I should be able to try and catch a little bit of sleep now. I wasn't able to sleep at all the night before, maybe, just maybe, now that I have my usual meds back in me, and a few bits of food, the morphine should work now and I can at least sleep for a little while. Just as I'm finally able to find a comfortable spot on a very uncomfortable ER bed, dippy the wonder nurse comes back in, she forgot to give me my skelaxin. And she has to go on this huge diatribe about how powerful it is and how nobody really uses it any more and on and on and on to absolutely no point other than making it impossible for me to quickly swallow the forgotten pill and go to sleep.

So exhausted still, and on an uncomfortable bed, fully awaken by the nurse, the morphine they gave me still wants to wear off that quickly. I never asked for morphine but as yet I haven't had a clear enough thinking moment to try and explain that narcotics don't really work well on me, they never have. So I ring the bell, literally crying and begging in pain. Pleading for someone anyone to help me. It's completely unbearable and frankly my brain at that point had become nothing but a bowl of hot jello, there was nobody home and no chance of thinking.

Back and forth we go on this. Somewhere in there I get sent for a CT scan. And another chest x-ray. And after again I call the nurse because I'm just really in too much pain, honestly it was my mom who hit the button since I couldn't even manage that much. Doctor number 2 comes in. She rolls me on to my back, I'm still crying begging for help with every breath I can get. She starts to "feel my stomach" or as it felt like to me "fluff my bed through my abdomen". I loose it, its the last breath that I have but I let out a scream I mean holy mother of god, still it was stupid because now I can't get the lungs to reinflate right away.

The doctor actually grabbed my arm, yelled at me to open my eyes and look at her, that she wasn't hurting me, I was just seeking drugs that's all. Typical drug seeking behavior. That's it. There was nothing wrong with me, so just knock it off right now. (Gone as my mind was I still couldn't help but think oh why did I waste my final breath on a scream, come on lung inflate... inflate so I can say something to her.) Well my mom and husband both were in the room at the time and my mom decided to say something. Telling the doctor that the only narcotics I have been on are the ones that this hospital has given me. There is no way I am suffering from withdrawl.

The doctor has the gall to tell my mom, "That you know of." Now my mom and husband both are like... "No, it's not just that we know of, we know she isn't on narcotics." My mom tells her, "Look she's half blind, she can't drive, she can barely walk, she's disable with MS." The doctor still refuses to listen to either of them and continues to lecture me about the severity of drug use. How I'm too young to be putting my family through this. And after a few karate chops to my back, that actually left a bruise or two. She leaves saying I can only have tordol or motrin for the pain.

I don't care, get rid of the pain, that's all I care about. The nurse comes back in to the room a little while later... Yippee tordol time right... no the doctor still hasn't put in the order for it. An hour later she finally has the orders put into the system. The woman came after the morphine had worn off, tormented and tortured me really, and then left me in fading in and out of conscouiness from pain for an hour. To prove what point is all I really want to know. What did that prove to the doctor?

Well finally, the order comes up for the tordol and I get a new nurse who comes to give it to me, she wasn't even supposed to be at work yet but came in since she knew it was busy. She basically told dippy the wonder nurse that I was now her patient. That nurse had seen me before and I was never so glad for a friendly and familiar face at that point. Once the tordol started to hit my vein it was like blissful relief. It took a bit longer for the worse of it. But it went into effect immediately and lasted me 6 hours easily. I didn't even have to hit the call button before my friendly nurse was back again with another injection of it.

Then they found me a nice comfy bed. And I got pampered and coddled by all the nurses while I was still in the ER bay. It was great, until the doctor came back by again. To feel my stomach again. If I'd had the breath to say it I would have told her thank you for fluffing my bed for me again. So now thanks to her hamfisting me and the hepherin shots I'm pretty much black and blue all over my abdomen and across my back.

But after she left again, the nurses came back by to pamper me some more so it was a little bit better than the first time.

I finally got my release. Woohoo, they only gave me an antibiotic though, so I asked, what about something for the pain. The nurse asked me if I didn't have anything for pain aside from my usual home meds. I was like no, no I don't. She rolled her eyes and said one minute we'll fix this right away. So the doctor finally conceded to a script for the tordol. Me and the nurses had already been joking around about how a disabled crippled person can get their hands on drugs when they can't really leave their house unless someone gives them a ride.

We came up with several ideas, like we do it freaky where I live, I just roll myself out to the corner and I'm like "hey.... psst hey... I'll let you push me around for 5 lo'tabs." I just have to watch that the bloods don't come over the crips territory. They need to put some bandaids on before the come into my hood. I have do have a cat who is great at catching moles, but what no one knows is really the moles have been stuffed with pills by the squirrels so they won't get eaten by the cat. He's a very smart cat, he knows what he needs to do to keep his momma happy. Watching my 2 yr old GB is really a premise I make her work in a secret sweatshop I got set up in the back room cleverly disguised as a "craft room". I force her to make a bunch of things which I then sell on the net and have the funds deposited into a secret bank acct.

We had some fun, and I found out that one of the reasons why the nurses came to pamper me was because they don't like that doctor much either. And for nothing being wrong with me, on the discharge paperwork. I had a UTI, kidney infection, renal insufficenties, apparently pneumonia (don't know if I do have or do not have pneumonia) and dehydration. So yeah, her hamfisting my stomach was going to hurt like a mother I don't care if you're dependent on drugs or not. You don't go around poking infected kidneys.

I just have to remember to call the hospital on Monday in case they don't call me before hand for their "Survey of care". Because that doctor was truly out of line. I mean I have never felt... I don't even have the words for it... I mean, I just... Yes I used to smoke, and I smoked for 15 years, do I miss it, eh a bit. Have a had a cigarette here or there when I'm around a bunch of smokers, yeah I might partake in one, do I have to run out and buy a pack of cigarettes afterwards or even feel the urge to... Nope. I just really don't have much of an addictive personality. I took narcotics for 6 years till I finally got my MS diagnosis, they switched out the narcotics with gabapentin and upped my relaxant to skelaxin. I was perfectly fine with that. No signs or anything of withdrawl from the lortabs. So I mean, to be talked to, and treated that way, to have my husband and mother witness it on top of it, for my husband to be brought to near tears to because of the pain I was in that he couldn't help or do anything for as she continued to just pretty much abuse me. There's just... there's no way to express how I feel.... And then adding insult to injury, not 5 minutes after she left I ended up crapping myself I was in so much pain I didn't even feel anything until there was just a mess. Which was another humiliation all on to itself again, since I was still in so much pain that I really had to call my husband back into the room to help me clean myself up. I figured that would be the lesser evil of asking a stranger to wipe me clean.

I should have gone with option 2 and gone to my health groups hospital. Oh why oh why didn't I go there. Trying to save on an ambulance bill... and not thinking it was too bad a hospital there... bad bad call on my part.