me, January 1st: new year, new me #health
me, 2am, January 3rd: wakes up in the emergency room
Just to start out on a positive note, January 2nd was an awesome day. It was a total bro day, if anyone remembers How I Met Your Mother back when it was lighthearted and full of laser-tag. I was taken out for a great breakfast, brought to a go-kart track where I did NOT come in last place, wandered around my favorite library, had a lovely & cozy dinner, and then saw my NHL team win 7-2. All with somewhat enjoyable company, to boot. You’d think I was someone’s beloved elderly pet about to be put down, the way this day was arranged.
The evening took a minor turn when I fell sick and had to be carried (I think? or dragged?) to the hospital. Two hospitals, actually, because apparently the first one was closed.
I don’t remember what happened, which is hard to admit and a little bit scary. I remember leaving the game, but not running into a bar restroom and getting sick, and definitely not anyone climbing into the stall to get me. I don’t know how I got to the hospital…and to me, the strangest part is that I don’t remember any progression, of neither pain nor drunkenness. I also don’t remember any point where I thought I was anything other than completely fine.
Full disclosure: I was drinking during dinner and the hockey game, which paints this whole situation in a different light. When I show up to a hospital hobbling around like a drunk, wounded animal and I’m sober, that’s major cause for concern. When I’m brought to a hospital in that same state and I’ve been drinking, there’s not much interest in investigating what’s going on. And I get it! I get how it must have looked. I’ve had those college experiences, guys. I’ve absolutely drank beyond my limits before. I’ve even thrown up after drinking. However, I have never had any drinking experience that felt like this, or transpired the way that this went down. The closest incident would be my first ever ER visit for this same pain, when I had two beers and then we discovered my misshapen, hydronephrosis-ing kidney. And I was told that I had massive kidney stones but then the doctor took it back.
I’m grateful that I wasn’t alone and that Sean took action by getting me to the hospital, which was clearly no easy feat. Still, I can’t help feeling disappointed in the outcome of the night because I try to be strategic about my hospital visits. I feel like I’ll only make progress on getting some answers if the doctors catch my kidney (or whatever godforsaken organ it is now) behaving badly, but I’ve had those experiences where I’ve gone to an emergency room and they don’t have the right equipment for imaging, or it was so busy there that by the time I was seen, my body had calmed down on its own. I had this dream that if I went back to the emergency room, it would be the last time – they’d finally find it. I truly believe that if they had done an ultrasound on my kidney this past visit, they would’ve seen some interesting and potentially informative things. Anyway. Maybe next time!
The pain was still very present throughout the course of the next two days, although Sean went hardcore nurse mode on me and definitely helped bring me back to life. For whatever reason, as the kidney pain chilled out, I quickly came down with a bad cold in its place. The really nice thing about colds, though, is that I know what they are when they happen AND they go away.
I still believe I might know what’s going on with this sudden spike in painful episodes. I’m away from the city now on operation clean the old house, as well as to get some doctors appointments taken care of. In a shocking twist, I actually pulled myself together enough to go out for my engaged friend’s bachelorette party last night, which I’m so grateful I was able to do while I’m here. I slugged straight seltzer all night but I dance so poorly naturally that I don’t think anyone questioned what was in my champagne glass. I woke up to the ol’ pain around 4am but was able to fall back asleep (thanks to my badass aromatherapy sloth) and the rest of today went pretty smoothly.
Time for my uplifting moral of the story, friends:
There’s a lot of shame in this game.
No matter if it’s alcohol, caffeine, gluten, whatever – there will always be people who think I should just do less of this or more of that, and that I’m still suffering because I’m not disciplined or invested enough to make those changes permanent. Listen, if cutting out any of those things had ever proven to help, I’d be more than happy to make that a permanent lifestyle change. They just…haven’t. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that I need to stand up for the way that I take care of my own body. As anyone should, y’know? And because everything seems so fragile right now, I’m not going to drink at all until I get some answers. As we know, I’ve had plenty of weird occurrences without any alcohol in my system. This most certainly is not a sure-fire way to keep my pain at bay. It just seems like the intelligent thing to do right now.
Well. Fingers crossed we’ve solved this problem by the playoffs.