One morning I woke up in extreme pain that wouldn’t go away. After much debating, I thought it could be my appendix so my husband convinced me that I needed to go to the ER. Unfortunately, it was 4:45am and we have two young children who were sleeping. Also unfortunately we don’t have family in the area who could either come stay with the sleeping children or pick me up. The one friend I did call doesn’t get up till 5am sooooo… I drove myself. I was not about to call 911 and pay a crazy bill for a 3 minute ride to the hospital. It wasn’t even thunder storming that badly and we weren’t in any tornado warnings at the time. Don’t worry I have already been scolded by my mother AND mother-in-law.
Immediately upon checking in I was offered pain relief that I also immediately turned down because pain meds make me do crazy things… and usually make me puke as well. However, after being rather vocal (aka screaming) I was persuaded to accept a morphine shot.
Well, I did warn them…
Minutes later I was rather chatty, I remember talking A LOT and telling everyone how funny it was that I couldn’t see well. The whole time I kept looking for Chris and asking where my husband was (I didn’t have my ring on so I’m pretty sure they thought this was an imaginary husband). Unfortunately, the fun only last about an hour and then the pain was back with a vengeance.
As I was being wheeled down the hall for an ultrasound I was rather loudly crying about the pain again (plus the morphine makes me more dramatic and LOUDER) when a nurse said she had “something stronger.” I pleaded with her to make the pain go away without the stronger drugs, but alas I gave in once more. This time I. was. wasted. No pain. No filter. No ability to stop the thoughts in my head from coming out of my mouth. No common sense. And no one to take my phone away from me and tell me if you can’t see your screen to text you shouldn’t take that as a sign to make videos instead.
My poor husband trying his best not to egg me on. I’ll have to remember that if the tables are ever turned.
Then I sang Shelby a song.
At some point I sung myself to sleep (I remember singing a lot about the number 3. Maybe I liked it so much because I could think of a lot of words that rhyme with “three.”) and was abruptly awoken by a nurse who was probably just trying to check my vitals but he “snuck in like a cat” and scared the “snot” out of me. Let’s pretend I said “snot.”
Apparently somewhere deep in my memory I have every word to random Iggy Azalea songs from 5 years ago stored so when I’m doped up on pain meds I can “bust out rhymes” for the whole floor to hear.
Most of this story I had to piece together by reading through my texts to Chris and Shelby and then memories would come flooding back. Finally, a week after this ordeal, I had the courage to watch the videos that I made. It’s rare, but this is one of those times in life that I was embarrassed for myself as I sat alone in my bedroom watching in horror. And also crying from laughing so hard
Last week I went back to my old stomping grounds to take Lyla in for asthma problems. And who did we happen to get assigned to that day? That darn nurse who scared the “snot” out of me. First thing out of his mouth, “Hey, you look familiar have you been my patient before?” I tried to avoid his puzzled gaze as he searched his memory.
Then, the light bulb came on and he just grinned.
Happy Nurses Week (a little late)