Yesterday afternoon, I began to have pain in my lower right
chest. I laid down, but I could find no
comfortable position. By suppertime, I
had no appetite, and I was having difficulty breathing. Every normal breath created sharp pain along
the lower edge of my rib cage. Around 6
pm, I decided I had to do something about it.
Bill and I discussed options. We
found the nearest ER on Google maps, and off we went.
The ER was an absolute zoo.
About 40 people were crowded in the waiting area. If some had not been in wheelchairs there
would not have been adequate seating. We
could hear people around us saying they had been there waiting for 7 hours.
I was taken into triage quite quickly. Even though the chest pain was on the right,
I guess chest pain is chest pain, so I had a speedy EKG.
Then the wait began.
We were seated next to a couple who were about our age or a
bit older. They were not happy with
each other. They were quiet about it,
but we were close enough to be aware of the friction. I think she probably had some beginning
dementia, and he was not able to deal with it patiently. He felt there was no reason to be there. She asked if he thought she was making up her
reason to come to the ER. He said “yes.” She was obviously hurt. They had been waiting for over 7 hours, and
she wanted to just leave and go home. He
was gritting his teeth and refusing to leave after having waited so long. They clearly did not have a supportive and loving
relationship.
A few hours later, an argument erupted between a young
couple. She was crying and he was
berating her in Spanish. I don’t speak
Spanish, but the tone of voice could not be mistaken. She got up and went outside. He followed her. She came back in and sat down in a spot where
he could not sit next to her. He sat
nearby and continued to speak loudly and angrily as she sobbed and made
repeated attempts to get away from him by moving around the room. Finally, a man sitting in the waiting room
intervened. At this point, we were sitting
with our backs to the situation, so I don’t know if he was physically imposing,
but he took the guy on verbally. He told
him he wasn’t going to tolerate his treatment of the young lady, and he’d
better leave. The young idiot then
called 911 and tried to say he was the victim.
Hospital security arrived and separated the young man and his crying
girlfriend. The problem was taken
outside, so I don’t know what happened from there, but that was not a loving relationship.
Meanwhile, my sweet husband was hovering over me trying to do
whatever he could to be helpful. Did I
need a drink of water? Was I warm
enough? He hung on to me as I walked
from one place to another. When I
finally was taken to a room and was on the stretcher, he was afraid my feet
were cold. He sat at the foot of the
stretcher and put my feet against his body under his sweater. He never complained about the long wait. I told him I was sorry, because I knew it
would mess up his being able to play softball in the morning. He shrugged it off. I was able to doze off after I had been given
some pain medication by IV. He catnapped
in the chair near me.
After a total of 10 hours, an EKG, lots of blood work, a chest
x-ray, a CAT scan of my chest, a bag of IV fluid, visits by a medical student
and a physician, we headed home with a diagnosis of pleurisy, and the
revelation that I have scarring at the base of both of my lungs, but it is
worse on the right. As to why the
pleurisy was triggered yesterday, no suggestions. Although a blood test marker for a blood clot
and possible pulmonary embolism was elevated, that was ruled out with the CAT
scan. They did find a very small nodule
in my left lung which we should keep an eye on.
But, the main take-away from the long night was something I
already knew. My husband is a prince, and we have a
loving relationship for which I am very grateful.
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