Chili dogs, tater tots and a banana split blizzard

That's what I had for dinner tonight, which just goes to show that I'm gonna make it. Here's the whole story...

Saturday I felt "off." I attributed it to my allergies, but I felt a bit dizzy and stuffy headed and in no way did I feel like I could make the solo journey to a wedding that I very much wanted to attend 3 hours away. So, I stayed home and piddled around the house and rested...a lot. Saturday night Josh and I ran some errands and I kept sneezing, he kept asking if I was okay, and I just kept saying "I don't know. My head just doesn't feel right." Fast forward to Sunday morning...

Josh left really early because he was going to make pancakes at the National Cornbread Festival in South Pittsburg (www.nationalcornbread.com), and I was supposed to meet a friend later in the morning. I rolled over when he got up and was like "whoa! this crazy headedness is worse and I'm definitely going to puke." Being the loving husband he is, Josh got me a trash can and offered to stay home, but I told him I'd take some Zyrtec and sleep it off. Not so much. About an hour later I woke up and felt like my bed was rocking and rolling (you know, like those Vegas beds you see on TV that you put a quarter in? don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about.) I called Josh in a panic, but it was going to take him over and hour to get home. After all our lovely EMT training in PT school, I just had this vision of me aspirating on my vomit (which I couldn't stop everytime a breeze blew across me because apparently that sent the signal to my brain that I was getting back into that bed in Vegas...not a pretty picture I know). So, I hung up with Josh and called 911. For the record, ambulance rides are not happy when you're puking every 10 seconds while they're trying to take your vitals and get an IV in your left arm. (Also, at this point I hadn't opened my eyes in over an hour because that just made me worse.) But at least they called me a "26 year old female, alert and oriented x 3 and in a non-emergency situation" en route to the hospital. It felt like an emergency to me, but whatever.

As soon as I got to the hospital, the nurse comes in and tells me "I'm sorry you might have to wait a few minutes, a lady just came in with a compound fracture and it looks like a bad one." "Okay" was all I replied. I wanted to say, "Well, I hope I'm not having a stroke, aneurysm or horrible brain tumor because somehow I think that would be worse." I just wasn't feeling very witty at the moment...at least not witty enough to say it out loud. I just kept vomitting loudly into my little baggie they gave me hoping someone would take pitty.

Finally the nursing assistant came in to draw my blood, and she really sucked. I have great veins. I don't know what I'm doing, and I feel sure I could get a good stick in my own veins. This little girl hurt me, and I felt obliged to let her know that with as many 4 letter words as I could muster. I sort of feel bad for that now, but seriously, there was no reason for all that mess. That arm now looks like I'm a heroine addict and have been shooting up for about 10 years. The other arm, where they put the IV, has no brusing (and remember, this was inserted by an EMT in the back of an ambulance with me vomitting every 10 seconds). I digress. She also asked me if I could be pregnant. My reply was, "The prescription info says 0.1% chance." By her dead silence I took it that she didn't understand. I then politely explained that I'm on birth control. She asks "when was your last period." My reply "Wednesday." (Sorry for those of you who this is TMI, I'm just trying to make a point.) "Oh, Wednesday of last month?" (I'm sorry, but it's the end of April, why in the world would I refer to last month as simply 'Wednesday?') "NO! Wednesday as in a few days ago. If I knew what day it was now, I would count it for you." Total silence and then footsteps out of the room. I think she finally understood.

Next my good looking doctor came in, although I only opened my eyes for 5 seconds to get a look at him because he told me I had to open them, so really he could have looked like a cave man and I wouldn't have known. Somehow it made me feel better to think he's good looking. Anyway, he tells me that I have serious left beating nystagmus and starts in on how this could be vestibular neuritis or labyrinthitis, blah blah blah. I just started laughing (I'm sure he thought I was crazy...at this point I hadn't had any drugs yet) and I explained to him that I'm a physical therapist, Vestibular certified and I'm very familiar with what that is because those are the patients that I treat. He just smiled and said, "Well, that will save us both a little bit of time. We're gonna scan your head to make sure nothing crazy is going on. And I'll make sure we get you something good through your IV before that." Fabulous. Those were the words I had been waiting to hear.

Not too much later, the lovely nurse who was no longer busy with the fracture (btw, I saw the radiographs on the computer on my way out...HIPAA violation!...but it was a really bad radial/ulnar fracture), came to give me my drugs. She shot me up with a nice healthy dose of valium and phenegran. In about 0.1 seconds flat I was completely dead to the world. I'm pretty sure they scanned my head because I remember the lady saying "Stop moving," but I don't really remember much else other than people constantly asking me "where's your husband? Didn't you say he's on the way?" I kept saying yes and that they could call him on speed dial #2, but no one ever did.

The next thing I remember is Josh showing up and kissing me on the forehead. Sometime later he told me that on his way to the ER for me, he hydroplaned and wrecked my car. By all police accounts, they're not sure how he survived. He was in heavy traffic and somehow spun around several times and made it to the other side of the interstate without clipping another car or flipping over. (Hmm...I'll tell you how...I believe in a sovereign God and I belive he sends his angels to protect His children in situations like that.) He has a backache, but otherwise walked away without a scratch. My car is in the shop, which is appropriate, seeing as how I'm not allowed to drive until next week anyhow. He was terrified to tell me that he wrecked it, but seeing as how I felt so crappy and was on a lot of drugs, it really worked out to be perfect timing.

So, I don't remember anything from Sunday, Monday and most of Tuesday other than crawling to the bathroom and Josh waking me up to take my meds when I needed them. I was able to sit up on Tuesday night, however, and watch "Dancing with the Stars" as long as I kept my head turned left and watched only out of my right eye. Looking left still makes me dizzy. I saw an ENT this morning and he gave me some 'roids so I expect I'll be feeling much better soon. I'm already working on my left neglect and it's much better already as long as I don't turn too quickly. I've had several near falls, but none too horribly bad. I actually showered today and have been up most of the day, so I count that a personal victory. Hopefully tomorrow will be even better. They tell me I can go back to work on Monday, so we'll see!