con’t from Hell at the Hospital
Time was advancing like a snail on the pavement in front of me, leaving a sticky wobbly line of unshakable memories.
Seven more hours to go…
Seven more hours?
A nurse passing by spotted that my sheets were off of my stretcher. Through all of my pain I had created one large rumpled ball by my feet. I was still wearing the shoes I’d worn to the hospital. My feet had swollen from all of the fluids they had been pumping through the IV and were bursting out the sides of my shoes like water balloons.
I had been laying on the plastic of the stretcher in the same position for over 12 hours, damp and sticky with sweat. The hospital (obviously trying to save on costs) hadn’t put on their air conditioning and it was around 30 Celsius in the ER.
I was so grateful for her kindness when she asked if I wanted my sheets fixed and changed that I almost cried.
She rolled me into one of the triage rooms. I knew that I’d had my dressings on for far too long now. I could feel how wet my stomach was. My whole body was wet. I asked if she would mind changing those too.
She did.
She helped me to put on socks Robert bought me and take off my shoes so my feet wouldn’t be sore.
She told me that later, she would try to sneak me into the large triage room next door, where the lights were dimmed so I might try to sleep a bit.
She got me a new cold compress for my head.
I was so grateful.
In the grand scheme of things this little effort to make me more comfortable made me begin to believe I had a chance at making it through the rest of the night.
I wanted to give her a medal for taking the time to notice me and taking action on her own initiative.
My pain wasn’t getting worse.
Maybe I could sleep a bit.
About 20 minutes later someone pushed me into the dimly lit large triage room with three other women.
I exhaled.
A sigh of relief.
No overhead lights.
No people buzzing around me.
I had a chance.
Maybe sleep would come and rescue me.
I was physically and emotionally exhausted.
Almost five full days I’d been going through this pain nausea hell without sleep, food or respite.
I was empty.
Sleep had to come.
I closed my eyes…
Right beside me a stranger appeared at my bedside. Talking to me. Touching me.
I opened my eyes…
I was still in the room.
A soft pug snore coming from one of the women sleeping in the corner.
Freaking out. What was that? Who was that?
I tried again and closed my eyes…
Members of my family appeared. As if on a slide show, coming up close to my face and then receeding. Then more people I didn’t know. Discussing, pointing, talking to me, talking about me, standing right beside me.
It was real.
I could see it.
It was real.
I could hear it.
It was real.
I could feel it.
It was real.
I could smell it.
They were right beside me…whispering in my ears. I don’t know what they were saying. My head was spinning.
I was scared. Really scared.
I opened my eyes…
I was in the darkened room. I heard the annoying beep of the ER machines. I could see the yellow light from the hallway at the foot of my stretcher. A shadow of a nurse passed by. The other lady in the room had started snoring as well.
There would be no witnesses to the ghosts that were tormenting me.
In my brain I understood I was having hallucinations, or waking dreams, most likely brought on by the five days of narcotic use, but in that room they were real. And they wouldn’t leave me alone.
I couldn’t close my eyes anymore.
My body tightened.
I started sweating.
My heart raced.
I didn’t dare close my eyes.
This is the first time I started to fall apart.
Really fall apart.
I felt myself give in.
I relaxed into the pain and fear.
I let it swallow me whole.
The tears started to come.
Someone rustled a plastic bag on the other side of the room. Was it one of the ghosts that had been tormenting me?
No, it was the daughter of one of the women in the room. She had been sitting on a chair by her bed all night long.
Get a grip Suzanne!
I decided right then and there that my crying wouldn’t help. Breaking down wasn’t going to help. I had to keep it together. It was up to me. Take some control Suzanne.
I refused anymore pain meds other than extra strength Tylenol. The drugs were making me crazy. Literally making me crazy.
I kept my eyes open the whole time.
I promised myself to be positive and grateful for the smallest act of kindness.
A bag of ice one nurse brought me to help with the overheating and sweating. Turning on the air conditioning might have been an idea. I was grateful that she listened to and fulfilled my request.
My body urged me, begged me to close my eyes. All my muscles, stiff, hurting, exhausted, implored me to close my eyes.
I fought it.
I fought it with everything I had.
I didn’t give into the ghosts.
I didn’t give into the mounting depression.
I didn’t succumb to the crazies that clawed at the corners of my brain.
I looked at my watch but I couldn’t read it.
I laid on the stretcher like that until almost 9 am.
Continued here…” The Body Will Just Give Out”
