Each Day Already is a Challenge

Hospitals are so different today...

At 56, I've spent some time in hospital emergency rooms, both for myself and for my son. But I can count on one hand the number of times I've been admitted to the hospital.

Let's see...

In about 1981 or 1982, I spent three days in the hospital after driving myself to the emergency room for unknown abdominal pains. I told the emergency room doctors that the pain was like having the worst menstral cramps, the worst constipation cramps, the worst flu cramps, and the gall bladder problems I had experienced about ten years prior, all rolled into one pain. I could not tell exactly where the pain originated because everything hurt. I was admitted and kept drugged for three days. They did tests on me, including a colonoscopy, which at that time was a horrible test (now it's much easier). And they woke me at 6 a.m. on the morning of the fourth day and said I could go home. The doctors were stymied about my pain source. They gave me psyllium to regulate my bowel movements. What?!?!?

I had a C-section when I had my only son. But I was only in the hospital for 24 hours, back when most women stayed in the hospital for a week to ten days with that kind of delivery. We didn't have insurance and my mother was coming to help with the baby. So the doctor let me leave.

Twice, I've been hospitalized overnight with chest pains - once in Texas and once in Michigan. Now I know that both incidences were actually related to my fibromyalgia, but I didn't know it then. The first time - in Texas - I had not yet been diagnosed with fibro. The emergency room doc and my own family doctor fought about whether my chest pains were caused by heart problems or gall bladder problems. I had tests for both, and it turned out it was neither. My family doc tried to tell me it was heartburn, but I knew that wasn't right. I had had heartburn before, and this was different. It felt like someone was holding my heart in his/her hand and squeezing it.

The second time I had chest pains - in Michigan - I had been diagnosed with fibro, but I didn't know all that fibromyalgia brings with it. Obviously, neither did the cardiologist to whom I was assigned (by the county medical services). I had a heart catheterization and was scheduled for angioplasty, but when I woke up, the cardiologist informed me that I didn't have any blockage. Instead, I had annoying arteries and veins...that jumped out of the way whenever they darned well pleased. And closed up if poked. The doc said it was as if my veins and arteries had minds of their own. I later learned that this was not that uncommon with fibromyalgia sufferers.

Know what else I learned? Not only to fibro folks have spasms in their skelatal muscles, but also in their organ muscles. Of course, that means that I do. I've had test after test - upper and lower GI series, endoscopy, colonoscopy, you name it. And the results are always that the doctors are scratching their heads, not really understanding, that I have inflammation and spasming - in my stomach, in my intestines, in my gall bladder, in my heart. Sigh.

I also have stomach problems because of all the medications I take - pain relievers, muscle relaxers (skeletal and organ), for inflammation (although I can't tolerate those very often), for depression.

I have irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). The definition I found said, "mild to severe abdominal pain, discomfort, bloating and alteration of bowel habits." Let's just leave it at that. If you want more information on IBS, you can look it up.

Perhaps while I'm listing my maladies and symptoms, I should add that I had a back injury in 1997 and a knee injury in 2002. They both still cause me pain.

In 2000, I had two car accidents - rear end collisions - that were not my fault. In one, I ended up with whiplash.

Also in 2000, during my pain management for my back, the skin - especially on my hands and arms - was permanently thinned. Now they bruise or bleed at the slightest bump.

On Monday, I had horrible abdominal pains. That's not all that unusual, as noted above. But this time was different. Not only did I have the symptoms of IBS, the pain that often accompanies my taking medications, and the "normal" (for me) spasming, I also was vomiting. And, did I mention that I was in horrible pain. I guess I did.

The pain was great enough that I called my hubby at work and asked that he come home after lunch to take me to the hospital emergency room. I knew I couldn't even drive myself.

We arrived at the emergency room about 1:45 p.m., I think. We waited and waited and waited. And we discovered that in our little part of the world, Mondays are the worst times for the emergency room. Who knew? The second worst time is Sundays. I found that rather odd. In most other places I've lived, Fridays and Saturdays (and some Sundays) have been the busiest at emergency rooms. But not here.

I don't remember what tests were performed through the emergency room. Mostly x-rays, I think. But somewhere along the line, they informed hubby and me that I was being admitted. Still, that didn't happen very quickly either. I think I was finally in a room about 9 p.m. or thereabout.

And I soon discovered that hospitals are much different than they were back in 1984 when my son was born.

First, there was a plaque on the wall that asked me to be sure to recommend the hospital to my friends and family. Huh?

Even though I was on a clear liquid diet on Monday and Tuesday, there were choices. And the menu was beautiful. It looked like it belonged in a fancy hotel (for room service) or restaurant.

On Wednesday, I got to choose real foods, and boy where there choices. And it was delivered between 20 and 45 minutes from the time you ordered. None of this having cold foods delivered all at once on a food cart. Nope. Each meal was delivered specially. Wow.

For breakfast on Wednesday, I tried having an English muffin with bacon, scrambled egg, and cheese, plus a banana, orange juice and coffee.

For lunch, I had a huge mound of cottage cheese and fresh fruits. I could have had dozens of other things, but having had such a time with my tummy and having been on liquids for so long, I didn't want to be tempted to eat the wrong things.

I have never seen so many employees in one hospital before. It's like someone pulled all the sales clerks off the sales floors (you know...you can never find one!) and trained them to work in hospitals. And they walk all over each other.

Seriously. It's no wonder the costs of medical care are so high. There were three housekeeping employees who checked in each day. One emptied trash. One brought towels and changed linens. The third "cleaned up." Even fancy hotels don't bother you that much with that many employees.

The nurse's aides (I forget what their new title is) were all over too. I think each one only had about 4-5 patients and mine was always coming in and asking what she could do for me or get for me. I was afraid to mention anything I wanted or needed...for fear that it would cost a fortune.

They keep hospitals pretty cold now. The staff said it was to help keep germs away. But they were great about asking if you wanted another blanket (to add to the three already on the bed) or wanted to have a blanket warmed. That felt great. But who knows? It might also cost extra.

I had a private room, and I hate to think what that might cost us.

I was pretty miserable while I was there. Even though they were pumping me full of strong pain killers (which turned out to be too strong...and another reason why I kept vomiting), I would wake up every two hours in pain and not able to have more meds for another two hours. Grrr.

And when I didn't wake up on my own every two hours, the staff helped that along. They gladly woke me up at midnight, 3:30 a.m. and 5:45 a.m. to check my vital signs. Grrr.

I wondered why my own doctor didn't come to check on me. Instead, I had a different staff doctor at every shift change. It turned out that the doctor group to which my doc belongs does not have privileges anymore. I do wish the emergency room staff or admitting people had mentioned that before I was admitted. It's nice to know that your care is in the hands of someone who knows your quirks. Grrr.

At 6 a.m. on Wednesday, I went for my last test - an ultrasound of my abdomin. I was told that the results of that test would determine if I went home for Thanksgiving. The doctor made his rounds about 10 a.m. (why do they do that earlier in the movies and TV shows?) and there were still no test results. About 2 p.m. some preliminary results came in, showing that I did have some inflammation around my pancreas, but nothing more serious.

Around 4 p.m., I knew for sure I could go home, so I called my hubby to come and get me out!

Okay. Hospitals are much nicer than they were 20+ years ago. I admit that. But they're still hospitals.

I'm out and hubby and I had a nice Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant - The National Exemplar. (You can check their website to see how nice...)

Still...I'm having pains. I'm not vomiting anymore, but the pains are still there. I finally figured out that one prescription they gave me to help get rid of the inflammation is making me ill. Figures. They were also pumping this into my system through an IV. Could be why I never felt I was getting better. Guess I'll be calling my own doctor this week.