So after I had about four bottles of Propel Sport and half a cup of Five Spice soup, I realized that things were really just getting progressively worse. At least I’ve got a new alarm system for dehydration which is stomach cramps then body-wide muscle spasms. It took me about two hours to decide if I really needed to get an IV tonight instead of trying to wait it out till morning (When I guess I could have gone to a walk-in clinic and gotten an IV there.) But the body cramps were pretty killer, pretty mind-blowing, so eventually I just bit the bullet and we headed to the ER.
I was glad I did, because by the time I got there (and with the stress, I’m sure, of an impending ER visit adding to my whole body-cramping) I almost couldn’t speak because of the pain. I was doing those deep breathing techniques all the way up to the counter and filled out my forms before they brought R.J and I back to triage to go over the same exact fucking information we go over, that they type into the system every single time we’ve been there for the last several years.
Where is this information going? If it’s not saved into the system? I’ve had forty people ask me for my allergies and reactions and what medications I’m on, forty times I’ve watched them enter that information. Why are you wasting precious time I could be hydrating asking me what happens when I take Bioxinn?
And then this was my favorite, “When was your last period?”
“I don’t get them.”
“You’ve never had a period?”
“No, I’m on the shot–I just don’t get them anymore. For years.”
“But when was your last one?”
“I don’t know. Several years ago.”
“Like last year? Like April?”
“LIKE I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T GET THEM. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO LIE TO YOU ABOUT THIS? Write down “she doesn’t get it” WHO CARES?”
The deep-breathing was not working so great at this point.
They finally brought me back into the room and I went through the motions of explaining POTS to my new and clueless doctor–and honestly, at this point the pain was so bad I wanted the IV–but I also wanted to knock myself out with a pain killer while I was getting it. But I always feel like if I come into the ER with hysterical pain, nebulous symptoms for a disease a doctors never heard of and say: “Yes, I need a saline IV and a vicoden.” They’re going to haul my stretcher out to the street with the other drug addicts, laughing all the way.
So I guess my plan was, “Okay–if I get the IV with maybe some magnesium or potassium–maybe that will take the edge off the cramping pain long enough for me to get home without completely melting down, where I can take pain medication where I won’t be judged.
Great plan right? Except that my IV was taking it’s sweet god damn time flowing. Like several hours.
Eventually the nurse did come in with my test results and some potassium supplements because my levels were low. I don’t think it really did anything for the cramping though, because that continued until the bag was almost done at which point I could care less what the nurse or the doctor thought so I asked if he could give me something for the pain. And the nurse gave me that look but said she’d ask the doctor and came back five minutes later with a shot of torridol. For some reason even IV torridol didn’t stop the cramping immediately, but after another 45 minutes the pain did start to subside.
I finished what was left of the IV and we checked out. I was really glad we did decide to end up going that night, because the pain had been really intense and to have tried to deal with in the morning when I would be even more dehydrated and fatigued would have been a really bad situation.
So, in conclusion, our date night was spent in the ER with me near-delirious in pain. In other news, water is wet.
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