As I was getting sicker and sicker I was to the point where I couldn’t sleep because if I laid down I couldn’t breathe. Being an insomniac and in a very busy hospital unit, with an old lady who yelled everything she said, and was confused on top of it all helped contribute to me staying awake during most of my stay in the hospital. The next morning my primary doctor came in to see me (I love my primary doctors. LOVE THEM!) and told me I was retaining a lot of water, so much so that I had water on my left lung which needed to be drained. It was part of the reason I couldn’t breathe or speak much above a whisper. I knew, from watching medical dramas on television, that this was going to be painful, they’d have to slice me open on my side, feed a tube in me and wait for the fluid to come out. That freaked me out.
NEVER base any supposed medical knowledge on what you see on TV.
I was taken down to a relatively small procedure room for the fluid draining. They crammed my bed into the room, which already had a bed in it as well as a crap ton of ultrasound and x-ray equipment. Then three people crammed into the room with me. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, I had to sit up for the drainage, and they were able to get me situated and the extra bed back out in the hall. They described the procedure which involved a very long needle being shoved through my back, between my ribs, into the area around the lung that was full of fluid. Then came time to sign the release.
“Blah, blah, blah… dangerous… blah blah blah… lung could collapse… blah blah blah… death.”
“Yeah, but you’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen, right?” I asked the guy who was going to do the procedure. He just stared at me. “Right?” I asked again and he kept staring. I took the pen and signed the paper. Oh well, I guess I could die.
He took up his place behind me. Another gentleman stood in front of me and held his hands out for mine. “If it gets too painful, feel free to squeeze.” I took his hands. The third member of the team took her place at the controls for all the machinery.
Then there was pain. A lot of pain and it got worse and radiated from the center of my back to my waist. I yelled and never squeezed the hands that were there for that purpose. They talked me through it and the pain eased. As soon as I caught my breath the pain came again, I yelled more and then they were done.
I was brought back to my room, got back in my bed and pretty much stayed there for the weekend, where nothing happened. I watched the NFL Wildcard games, had constant blood draws and vitals taken. I had to call the nurse every time I peed (so crazy, right?).
There isn't much more to the tale of my hospital stay. So I'll be back soon with the excitement of the next procedure they put me through! I know your on the edge of your chair.