Sleepless in Saint E''s

After applying ice and heat to my back all weekend, by Monday we had decided that maybe it was something more. I had spoken to my sister a few times and she expressed concern. I have a history of high blood pressure, although not terribly high, and the word stroke was spoken more than a few times. I eventually called my older brother who has run the gamut when it comes to back pain and asked his opinion. By the end of our conversation he had convinced me that I should go to the hospital.

I gathered things to take to the hospital in the event I should have to stay, and I would like to think I was applying the scout motto, Always be prepared, but in reality I would be horrified if someone else had to go through my "stuff" to try and find what I needed. So I hobbled around, gathering what I felt I would need all the while realizing that my left leg weakness seemed to be increasing.

I spent nine hours in the emergency room. I had an EKG, a CAT scan and a blood letting before they decided I should be admitted for a neurological work up. Before sending me upstairs to a room, my young and nervous ER doctor took the time to beat around the bush about what they suspected from the CAT scan and horrified us in the process. It was very apparent that he wasn't telling everything. As soon as he left the room I commented to Joe that he had scared me to death.

I eventually was moved to a room, but the new $16,000 bed was broken so I had to sit in a chair while they located another bed, wheeled the old one out and brought a new one in. Whoever thought these crazy beds were a good idea needs to be fired! They have a life of their own. Just when you think you are comfortable, the bed decides you aren't and growls and rumbles and rearranges itself, waking you from each and every possibility of sleep. Lets face it, this baby's got "BACK" and in order to accommodate my fluffy butt the bed kept deflating under it until I was sitting on the bed frame. Are all sick people skinny?

I eventually ended up trying to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed since it seems the foot section wasn't quite as sensitive as the torso and head sections. Honestly, I was ready to sleep on the floor. I would rather have had the ER gurney than this living, breathing, vibrating bed!

I don't know what made me think I would sleep anyway. Are nurses nocturnal? Do they just not like to see patients sleep? Are there secret cameras? Does a person watch these monitors and announce when one of us looks like we might be falling asleep..."Attention all nurses...Bed 15A is dozing. Quick, go take her blood pressure or maybe just for jollies, why don't you make her get out of the bed so you can weigh her." During the day they might check my BP and take my temperature a few times but at night I swear they must have checked it every two hours. They also felt the need at four o'clock in the morning to wake me to flush out the IV needle they had in my hand that never, the entire time I was in the hospital, actually had an IV hooked up to it. They even went so far as to try and get my roommate up at 3:00 in the morning for an MRI. She pretty much told them where to stick their MRI. She was a trip. (Wherever you are Miss Rose, I hope you are well.)