On Sunday morning, I experienced the worst pain I've felt in my life. I hadn't eaten yet, and had a mild hangover. The night before I had pigged out at a Lebanese Baptism and then went to my cousin's bonfire and drank 5 Stellas. I think all the fatty food I ate contributed to my first attack.
I've felt shades of this pain before, so I waited about 20 minutes before heading to the hospital. But instead of subsiding, it kept getting worse. By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was sweating (or diaphoretic as they said) profusely, and was hyperventilating. I skipped past the triage lady (nurse?) and the nurses took me in immediately as they thought I was having a heart attack. I was hooked up to an I.V. and EKG, and they took blood right away. My attack was still getting worse and we were now just waiting for the doctor to arrive. I was making whiny, painful whimpers, and trying not to be a baby, but as I said, it was the worst pain I felt in my life, so I found myself saying, "Please, please, can't you just give me SOMETHING!" They kept saying "Not until the doctor gets here."
When the doctor arrived, she asked me all the same things the nurses had already, and I finally got some morphine.
Gotta go, I'll continue this story later.
No comments:
Post a Comment