So much for our Sunday. We were supposed to get a lot done and being that it's almost 4PM, it's not lookin' like it's gonna get done. Why, you ask? Well it's because I've spent most of my Sunday in the ER.
I got up this morning feeling like crap anyhow. My back was killing me after a night spent trying to avoid Griffy, who was UNUSUALLY snuggly. That was enough reason alone for a freak out. He is never that cuddly. He was literally sleeping on top of my head and on my hip. It got so bad that the hubby that to put him downstairs. Dunno what was up with him, but it was annoying. It could have had something to do with the fact that he's pretty much hairless. Either way, combined with my constant nightmares and not being able to get comfortable, I was a miserable mess when the sun came up.
So I woke up with horrible shooting pains down my leg and into my foot and my back just aching and made the mistake of taking 3 Ibuprofen on an empty stomach. So stupid. About a half hour later I ate a few shredded wheat and started to fold some laundry then it hit me.....INCREDIBLY AWFUL CHEST PAIN THAT RADIATED INTO MY JAW!
I was in so much pain that at any moment I expected to see a bright white light and Aunt Meta beckoning me forward. I thought for sure I was having the granddaddy of all heart attacks. I very calmly went into the kitchen, took a baby aspirin and told the hubby not to panic (which he didn't, outwardly anyhow) but I was pretty sure I was having a heart attack and perhaps we ought to get to the hospital....NOW! We wake Meg up and tell her I'm not well and heading to the ER and I look at her, with tears in my eyes and tell her I love her. I keep The Little Imp close, not sure I'm ever going to see her again. Of course, I have sad music playing in my head, not what I thought I'd have playing in my head during what I imagined were my last moments on earth...nope, it was the tune to The Young and the Restless.
As we're getting into the car, the pain abates somewhat and I'm thinking to myself; "OK, this is the calm before the storm, I'm probably going to have a massive cardiac on the road, scaring the hubby to death and leaving him permanently scarred for life...perhaps calling 911 might be advisable..." But we didn't call 911.
The drive to the hospital was morbid at best. I'm sitting there trying not to bawl all the while and telling the hubby where all the bills are, and that he needs to pay the mortgage payment and what all the various log-ins are, and to not let The Little Imp get anything pierced before she's 25, and not give her too much junk food, and to make sure she stays close to her brothers and sister and not let her date....EVER. And what do ya know...by the time he drops me off at the entrance to the ER, the pain is completely gone. Vanished. Nothing.
But, not knowing what just happened, I went ahead and went in. Got the full work-up....EKG, blood drawn, questions up the wazoo. And everything is fine. Heart looks good, cardiac enzymes look good...it all looks good.
I sat there, for three hours, all to be told nothing was wrong! It would not have been so bad had it not been for the lady in the bed next to me...we were only separated by a thin curtain, but dear Sweet 6lb 4oz baby Jesus, I would have paid ANYTHING to be ANYWHERE but there. Our ER has no walls separating rooms, just large bays with curtains. Lovely.
I could have been laying there next to anyone else, but no, I had to be next to THELADYWITHTHEINTESTINALBLOCKAGETHATCAMEUNBLOCKED! OMG the horrors...the smells...the sounds. About ninety minutes into my stay, I was really wishing I'd have a massive heart attack. I kept turning up the volume on the little TV speaker, but it didn't help. They brought her in a little portable toilet (which was really nothing more than a steel frame with a bucket strapped underneath it) and it was right next to the curtain, which was right next to my bed. I was sitting right there when, well for lack of a better phrase, her damn broke and burst forth. It's a good thing this happened when the hubby and The Little Imp went to get some lunch because I'm sure The Little Imp would have barfed when the spill over ran into my "room." I got my unfashionably dressed (you know those hospital gowns are just so trendy! NOT!) self up and sat in the chair against the far wall and put my feet in the extra chair. "Don't let it get me...don't let the poop get me!" was all I could think.
Mercifully I was discharged about twenty minutes later. Good thing too because the nurse treating the lady next to me told her that she would probably have a couple more "good size BM's" in the next hour or so. I signed all the papers they asked me to and then I practically RAN out of the ER!
So, what was wrong with me you ask? Most probably something called an Esophageal Spasm. I have had them before, and it's almost ALWAYS brought on by eating something with a lot of fiber, or something too hot, that I haven't let cool off enough. I guess a lot of people have these, thinking they are heart attacks and go to the ER, only to find out much like I did, that it's an ES.
I guess it could have been a whole lot worse...I could have had a bowel obstruction that decided to unobstruct itself.
