I'm sitting in my bed today instead of at the office due because I made a bad choice for dinner on Sunday night. How does barbeque ribs make you stay home two days later, you might ask? Nasty little bacteria, my friends.
Laurie and I were being lazy Sunday night and neither of us wanted to cook. I had cooked for several hours for my get together on Saturday and didn't feel like doing shit but sit around and chill. Saturday went really well. Laurie was top dog (again!) and won $25. The running joke of the night is that everyone who actually KNEW how to play poker were the first ones to be knocked out. My nephew, Nick, was the first out. My brother, Steve, went out next. I went all in with a JQ suited and was killed when my mother in law pulled out a straight on the turn. But, that allowed me the freedom to leave the house and go on a beer run, so it was OK.
Back to Sunday...since neither of us wanted to cook, I suggested Chinese. Laurie's not a fan of the chinese food, but the kids and I overruled her. Since I was being especially lazy, I didn't want to make the 15 minute drive to go to the GOOD chinese place down the road (Panda Express) and instead ordered from the restaurant by my house that delivers.
Big mistake.
While watching 24, my stomach started to hurt. Nothing major, just a mild discomfort. About 11pm, it started to hurt bad. By 12am, I was in the bathroom trying to puke (which I couldn't) and between then and 3am, I was writhing around in agony in the bed, trying to go to sleep. I kept shifting positions to try to find one that wasn't excruciating. It hurt so bad, I even sat up and rocked like an autistic kid, but it did nothing to alleviate the agony I was in. I was like I had rats in my gut gnawing their way out. By 3am, I was in my car heading to the emergency room.
I've been to the emergency room (for myself) twice in the past twenty years. I went last year when I slammed my head into the floor while roller skating and then Monday morning. Things have to be pretty shitty for me to actually go seek medical attention.
They (the nurse and PA I saw, since apparantly trying to see a doctor at the emergency room is as rare as seeing Mariah Carey acting coherent) diagnosed it as gastritis, which I don't agree with. Regardless of the incorrect diagnosis, the medicine they gave me was a fucking miracle drug. They gave me Donnatal, which is made from belladonna and phenobarbital. Basically, it paralyzes the muscles in your digestive tract and keeps them from cramping up.
Why do I disagree with the diagnosis, you might ask? Because I know it all!!! (just kidding) Because they saw me for two minutes. Gastritis is basically an upset stomach. I know what that feels like. This was NOT an upset stomach. Plus, my dog got sick too. I gave him my rib bones when I was done. About the same time I started feeling bad, he was puking on the floor. Luckily, he was OK and didn't seem to have any other problems, because I'm sure a late night visit to the emergency vet would have been twice as expensive as my visit to the ER.
- 1/17/2006 10:52:31 AM
On my long and very detailed SHIT list is definitely any Emergency Room. I think ER docs and nurses have the shittiest attitude sometimes. I know I worked in the ER once and saw first handthat they all are a bunch of bastards. They'd roll their eyes at a mom bringing in a baby with a fever. They'd treat her like shit and make her feel like she's wasting their time - next thing you know the kid has RSV and is in the hospital near death. jerks. Not that I am bitter. Do I sound bitter??? Anyhow I like your space and hope you don't mind if I add it to my list of daily reads..... Aynde