As many of you know, my Sister and I forced our Mom to go to emergency room on Sunday. When we were seen, Mom had blood taken, was given an ultrasound (that was unsuccessful), and she was given Cyklokapron, which is used to help slow or stop severe bleeding… though it’s not working.
She was supposed to have an ultrasound on Monday, but two people called in sick.
Yesterday, I took my Mom to the hospital. They had booked an ultrasound for 2:30. Well, the nurses got annoyed because it was supposedly on Monday, but the doctor had called to tell us that no, it was on Tuesday, so it was a disaster. Fortunately, they got her in right away and away she went with ultrasounds.
I’ve looked at ultrasounds my whole life, I’m no professional, but I enjoy looking at them. It was kind of cool to see the scarring from her c-sections. …yes, I know, terrible child, mother is in pain and I’m enjoying her innards.
We got sent back to the emergency room.
In the ER, we met two people: Kevin and Melissa. They had been in the ER the night before and were actually at the ultrasound place. That took a weight off my shoulder because everyone was getting sent back for results, not just us. They were nice people, I talked to Melissa about Children’s Hospital and how they thought her son had spina bifida!
We only started talking to Kevin because this man walked in…
There was this man, his name was Doug. He was either mentally unstable or extremely drunk/drugged. First, he came and sat next to me and leaned on me, which was extremely uncomfortable. But there was a woman lying down on the chairs in front of us, and he kept going on about the Lord, asking if he could hug her so he could heal her, then eventually said “do you want to live? No? Fine! I’ll let you die!” This man acted like he was God…
He kept talking to me and to this poor woman who you could tell was sick, and before he left, he said “I can’t take it, I have to do it!” then went over to her, waved his arms all over her and mumbled “hallelujah” and other random words that didn’t make sense.
Thing is, the woman doesn’t believe in his God. We got to talking about that, she’s Muslim, not Christian! It’s not just that, but how uncomfortable would that be?
So throughout the night, we all talked. We were like this little family, wishing each other luck and whatnot.
A couple hours into our wait in the emergency room and Mom got called back to triage. That’s where they ask your typical questions, take your blood-pressure, temperature, etc. But Mom got dragged back. She had low blood-pressure (and can you blame her, losing so much blood?) so they did an EKG, as well as more blood-work, which didn’t work because the person couldn’t hit her veins. Again.
After that, Mom ran out of there back to me. I don’t think she was supposed to, but she didn’t want to wait while they found another person to take the blood.
There we sat. 3… maybe 4 hours, until we were called to go in.
Here comes another waiting area! This is the RAZ waiting area (Rapid Assessment Zone, I believe is what it stands for). There’s beds, people being looked after… that’s one thing about our hospital, there aren’t enough doctors or nurses, or rooms, so everyone is everywhere – in hallways, it wouldn’t even surprise me if they were using closets.
A nurse came to take her blood. I really liked her, AND she got it on the first hit! I’m thankful for that, but you should see my Mom’s arm now. It’s super bruised!
Eventually, we were called in for her results. They told us that not much was found, something that looks to be a fibroid, but it’s unlikely it’s causing her what she’s going through. They gave her a different medication (that we’re apparently not filling) and sent us on our way.
We spent 6 hours in the hospital.
Most of it was waiting.
I’m not complaining, 6 hours is a pretty good emergency experience, and I know it’s extremely busy. I was talking to a nurse and there was a looot of sick people, a lot of children, broken legs, and for some reason, there were multiple people with pneumonia! It’s just… oy. Hospitals are so hectic. I’ve spent a lot of time in the hospital and I just absolutely despise the air, the way it smells… ugh. But I went with my Mom! She always went with me…
When we got home, Dad just kept going on and on saying “don’t die, you’re not allowed to die on me!” He was asleep though.
* * *
I woke up this morning with a sore throat. Thanks, hospital.
Mom did as she was told today – she called the gynecologist in the morning and got in for an appointment. They had to do a biopsy, obviously, to check for endometrial cancer.
If I wasn’t scared before, good lord, I’d rather die than have an exam…
It was painful, poor Mum. They told us that we’d have the results in about 2 weeks.
POOR MUM! Waiting 2 weeks in agony!
They said to use Advil… Advil is useless. I don’t know why doctors are always like, “use Tylenol, use Advil”… even worse is Naproxen… “here! Have some Naproxen!” Yeah? Here, have some confetti! I guess it works for some people, but for me, my Mom, my Dad, and quite a few of my friends, it is absolutely useless. Yes, I know it’s supposed to help with inflammation, but using it as a painkiller? Are you kidding me?
Anyway… now we wait.
Friends of ours are freaking out at the fact that it could be cancer, but the thing is… yes, all the signs point to that, but that doesn’t mean that it IS.