Skip to main content

Emergency Rooms and Burning Shots From Hell


From the second I woke up it was evident that I wasn't going to make it. Evident that I had to get medicine into my system immediately. Evident that I'd be late for school waiting for medicine to kick to the point where I could see to drive.

Mistake Number 1. Getting up.

The medicine was helping some, it took my 8 pain down to a 7. I was able to attend most of my first class and my professor was very understanding when I explained why had been late.

My second class was short, but miserable. I rushed to eat a granola bar in hopes of calming the nausea. That didn't do anything, so I resorted to some handy dandy nausea medicine. Still really didn't do anything. I had a meeting for a group project that felt much less productive than it could have been.

Mistake Number 2. Not listening to my bladder.

I kept having to excuse myself to pee. And I had to pee a lot. This is a tell tale sign that something is wrong and my medicine is just flushing through my system taking all my fluids with it.

I'm in awe the way my partner didn't get impatient with me when I struggled to find words. I'm glad I wore makeup today, as I'm sure it hid how ghostly white I was turning as I kept getting worse.

As the meeting ended I went down to the Interior Design Lounge and tried to rest my head in the dark conference room.

Mistake Number 3. I didn't eat my whole lunch.

Well, I tried really hard. But in between the growing nausea and the deepening pain, my peanut butter sandwich wasn't going to be any sort of salvation. Thank god I had eaten the granola bar earlier.

And then it hit me. There was going to be no way I could get up in front of a class with my group and give a 20 minute long presentation that involved looking at a PowerPoint and notecards I knew would be blurry to me and bright lights over head and a group activity that was create noise.

And then it hit me even harder. If I didn't get myself to the closest hospital I would most likely end up collapsing someplace.

In choosing to leave, I chose to forfeit 20% of my final grade for one of my business courses. 20%. That would leave me sitting at a 79 for the semester,

Mistake Number 4. Thinking my grade in a class meant absolutely anything.

This is the biggest mistake I made. I have accommodations for a reason. I work hard all semester to develop a level of understanding with professors for this exact reason. I never should have gotten up this morning, but an obligation to a group project sent me to an Emergency Room.

My group members were happy to cover my part. And my professor was even happier to allow us to push our presentation back to Monday, so I could participate. (Not that I want to have 2 group presentations back to back like I do now, but oh well)

And, so my sister-in-law dropped everything to get me to the ER and waited the entire lengthy visit to make sure I could get home okay.

But the ER is not a friendly place to be. The lights are blinding. The staff isn't understanding. My condition is invisible and it is known that chronic pain patients are perceived as drug seekers. Which isn't the case. The wait room was long. People's cell phones kept going off and they were all extremely high pitched.

My nurse and doctor were both friendly and supportive. The nurse looked at me when I said my pain was at a 9.5. She said I had to pick either a 9 or a 10, so I said 9. I don't think I'll ever use my 10. My 10 will be saved for if I ever need to be admitted. She looked at me again and said that it was okay if my pain was at a 10. She's probably not wrong.

And then the shots fired. One into my arm and one into my butt. Oh how I hate getting shots in the butt. But I am thankful for my now very stiff arm and the small bruise forming on my butt. I received a combination of Benadryl and steroids, meant to ease the sharp pain and pretty much put me to sleep. Oh it put me to sleep, but the fiery concoction burned the entire time entering my system.

It put me to sleep alright. After my 15 minute waiting period, I was quite drugged up and extremely thankful I hadn't tried to drive on my own.

I slept the rest of the afternoon. The migraine hasn't completely disappeared, but I definitely feel 110% better.

I didn't make it through today. But then again, I should never have even started the day.

As much as I try to put myself first and listen to my body, some days I'm just too stubborn for my own good.

So now I'm recovering and hoping the magical concoction isn't met with a rebound headache come tomorrow.

-A

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Defining "Normal"

I'd be crazy to think that "normal" in terms of life as a disabled migraine patient should look anything like your "normal"... When I say this, I want you to think about your week. For the most part, you work your scheduled days, enjoy your weekends, and absolutely dread waking up on a Monday morning. That's your routine. Even as a student, Monday's are dreadful and suddenly you're halfway through the semester wondering how on Earth you've gone this many weeks and how this new semester's routine became so normal so fast. Each day brings a new attitude, because each day is closer to the weekend or a fun event. I have to admit, with football season pretty much being over, I don't know what day it is 99% of the time. That's crazy right? I think it is. My "days" exist in a bubble of I took medicine two days ago, so even though I need some today, I have to wait until tomorrow. I leave my medication on my counte...

Tips and Tricks: Migraines Without Meds

We've all got that one thing that we know will make us be more comfortable, more ourselves. That little something we feel gives us an edge in whatever we're doing. It's that red pair of shoes that'll make us stand out from the crowd because there really isn't a wrong time to wear them, but they certainly aren't expected. It's that lucky pair of socks. It's the green scarf. It's our lucky pen. We want to be comfortable. But, when we've got outside forces controlling a pulsing sensation in our heads, comfort is about as far away as the sun we're desperately trying to avoid. And if you're in my position, reaching for the bottle of pain killers isn't always the right choice. To be completely honest, my pain meds scare me. Every time I get into some trance while I'm on them. Every time I feel myself coming down. Every time the pain sneaks back in. Some days I convince myself that the medication simply wore off and the br...

The Time We Take

Life's made up of moments. Or at least that's the idea. When everything is all said and done those moments will float back through our mind. Certainly makes you stop and think for a second about what kind of moments we hope make it to our highlight reel. Maybe it stops us in our tracks because we open up Instagram only to see everyone else's highlight reel. We forget that their reels are full of moments we'll never understand, and we get stuck in this place where we're convinced that we aren't doing enough, or aren't doing the right things with our lives. Maybe you can pick out those moments that you wish could live on forever, even though there isn't a photo to have captured it and locked it in time. Maybe you've still got some old photo albums laying around full of memories and long lost friends. One of the things I'm striving for this year is to capture those moments. To live in them. So often, I'm so buried in pain or end...