I haven’t spent a lot of time in emergency rooms. I’ve been rather lucky and healthy thus far in my lifetime. So, when yesterday’s 12 hours of nausea and blinding abdominal pain became too much for me, Allen and I headed to the ER. Eight hours later, I have some important lessons to share about *my emergency room visit:

1. Modern medicine isn’t really all about finding a diagnosis that explains your symptoms. It’s mostly about fitting a prescription to alleviate your symptoms. The cause of the illness can remain a mystery, and the doctors seem pretty OK with this philosophy.
2. ER doctors who don’t have time to really listen to your list of symptoms and try to figure out why you are so sick would rather just get you to shut up by drugging you with heavy narcotics.
3. This time, it’s not my gall bladder. Blood tests, ultrasound, urine tests all confirm that it’s not the gall bladder or kidney or liver. This is actually good information. And I’m thrilled to know that the gall bladder that the last doctor said needed to be removed LOOKED just fine. Yay me, for wanting to keep my organs intact!
4. Friday nights that coincide with big college reunions are NOT good nights to be in the emergency room.
5. Painkillers work for a very short time on me. Or they don’t work at all. Or they make me throw up. I’m told this isn’t the normal reaction. When asked if I wanted more morphine, I shrugged and said, “Why bother?” I guess there’s no fear of my becoming an addict?
6. When getting an IV, I should ask that they use the non-dominant arm. Peeing into a tiny cup while on morphine and using my left hand is … messy.
7. Bring your own pillow. The ER wants you to be as uncomfortable as possible, so pillows have become extinct. As have beverages. And soon, they’ll probably take out all the beds and give you a plastic sheet.
8. When the doctor says he’ll bring the anti-nausea medicine right away, that actually translates to 15 minutes. This is damn fast, so don’t complain. When he says he’ll order an ultrasound, this process apparently takes 3 hours.
9. The cute nurses don’t linger for long. A quick flirt, a drawing of blood, and they leave you for more interesting patients.

And the most important lesson I learned last night…

10. There’s no person in the world I would rather spend 8 hours of absolute misery with than Allen. Of course, I’d rather spend 8 hours doing something much more fun with him, but you get the picture.

By the way, THIS is not the post where I rave about my husband, in honor of our 9th Anniversary. We are re-scheduling the celebration for next week. So, prepare for the schmoop!

*please note: I have a wealth of respect for anyone in the medical profession. Please don’t kill me.

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