Or 2020: Part Deux if you're a Leslie Nielsen fan.
If you've seen my posts on social media, then you know. I was taken by ambulance to the ER, where I was diverted to the regular waiting room, where I screamed, threw up, and peed myself for many hours. Kidney stones, kidney infection, and pain-induced Gastroparesis brought a trifecta of pure hell. I truly believed I was dying right there in front of everybody. I nearly lost consciousness from the pain. And this went on all evening long because there were no available beds.
If you've been irresponsible about COVID, just know how much you've contributed to my new emergency room trauma...as if I hadn't had enough of that already.
When I finally was seen, it was my favorite ER physician, Dr. Jah. He's the sweetest, and was sympathetic of my misery. It took a long time to get it all under control so I could stop wailing, but it finally happened. I was released as quickly as they could throw me out of there. My uncle is a saint, and got out of bed in the middle of the night to drive to the city to retrieve me. He drove us to the 24 hour pharmacy, bought the meds, and took me back to his home on the bayou. I spent a week with my aunt and uncle being observed. The stone(s) didn't seem to pass, but I was functional enough to go home so they could resume their family plans out of state. I am extremely thankful they were in town and willing to be there for me in this unbelievably challenging setback.
I'm still in severe pain. Some days are more manageable than others. I've ordered supplements galore to try to help dissolve the stones. My urinary tract is on fire...it still hurts so very much. I am going to have to call my doctor again on Monday to try to get some help if it doesn't resolve. I will for sure not go back to the ER unless I believe I'm dying again. I really did think I was, and it is going to take a while to heal from that level of horror.
I'll go back to therapy when I can. COVID is still too present, but I'm hoping to have access to a vaccine soon.
I wish I had access to a Nephrologist, but all of mine are gone. Even if I did have the funds to go back to Jackson, they aren't there any longer. I regret the money I spent to travel there over the last several years, because nothing was accomplished from 2016 on. Nothing was done at Neurology clinic, either. It seems that when my original doctors left, I should have, too. I do appreciate Dr. C for wanting to help me. There was just no follow through on any ideas before the hospital's financial aid cut me off, and he moved on to another facility. It grieves me still, and probably always will.
So I don't know what to do anymore. My Internist, Dr. B, is overwhelmed. I love him, but his office never fails to be a frustrating disaster. Every time I have to ask for something to be fixed, I feel like I'm being labeled a problem patient. I need to be connected to a facility that can manage my conditions correctly and in a timely manner. I shouldn't have to melt down every 2-3 months to get my kidney and muscular dystrophy medications. It's inhumane to neglect me until I can barely function, then gaslight me as a troublemaker when I'm upset about it. I'm trying to f*&^%$#@ survive. Sue me.
I exist on the couch until further notice. Just like my mother did when she was dying a horrible death.
