A Few Hours of Firsts - Part Two
I brought the Panadol back up about ten minutes after I’d taken them, just enough time for them to dissolve and cause acid burning on the return journey. The doctor hadn’t seen me yet so they couldn’t give me anything stronger. I was still pacing.
‘On a scale of one to ten, what your pain level?’
‘Ohh..about a twelve.’
After an hour, the doctor came in. He asked me how the pain in my tummy was. I corrected him, politely. Considering the discomfort I was in I was remarkably calm and polite, but then it doesn’t pay to p*ss off the doctor on duty.
He asked, ‘do you have a history of kidney stones?’
‘Nooo....’
‘Your symptoms are classic kidney stone. We need to get some pain medication into you.’
I didn’t say it, but my head screamed ‘No shi*t, Sherlock!’
‘I’ll come back and get a canular into you’ He did come back and proceeded to stuff it up. He hurt me for no reason.
A nurse came back and tried again. My blood pressure was so high that when she stuck the needle in it was like a scene from Scream. There was blood on my pjs, the floor the chair and her. The pain from my kidneys was refocused to the back of my left hand. But it went in and shortly afterwards 10mg of morphine was wending it’s way up my arm. I could feel it. And I’m pretty sure it showed on my face. If I ever had to portray a heroin addict in a Hollywood blockbuster, now I could. My first drugs, ever. Not counting booze.
FIRST #2: Class A drugs
Twenty minutes later, ‘On a scale of one to ten, what your pain level?’
‘About a 5.’
‘To ensure I’m giving the drugs to the right person, what’s your name?’
‘Clarissa Dalloway.’ The look on the nurses face was priceless, she clearly didn’t get, a)the literary reference or, b)the party reference. I quickly gave her my real full name and she relaxed.
‘For someone in so much pain, you’ve sure kept your sense of humour.’
‘Laugh or cry, laugh or cry. It’s pretty simple really.’
10mg more. Once again I could feel the cool travelling up my arm, this time the pain went down to zero.
Over the course of the next six hours I had my blood pressure checked, I had a thermometer stuck in my ear and I continued vomiting. I also had another 15mg of the good stuff. By this time there was only the lining of my stomach to come up and I was still sitting in my pee soaked pants. I was ‘nil by mouth’ so not even water was coming up, just bile past the Panadol burn of earlier. No one had any chewing gum.
I fell in a drug induced sleep between pokes and prods.
I relented and changed into a hospital gown.
I was taken to a CT scan in the morning. I was still vomity and still being given morphine for the pain. I was told, ‘some people just can’t handle the drugs.’ I was pleased to know that I’d be a rubbish addict, but less than please to know that I would continue to feel nausea and the resulting retching until the pain was gone.
FIRST #3: CT Scan
After the scan I was return to my room, after throwing up and wetting myself again. Having a canular in the back of my hand restricted my pacing ability when the pain returned, as it did as soon as I moved or threw up.
Dr. Chong, a resident in Urology came to see me with the CT results.
‘You have three kidney stones. Two in the right, and one in the left. The one in the ureter (the pipe between the kidney and bladder) is the one causes all the problems. It’s stuck. We need to loosen up your muscles so they relax.’
I asked to see the scans. So i wheeled my fluids bags out to the desk where the computer was and had a look. Dr. Chong thought it was hilarious that I wanted to see.
I wanted to see the little bugger that was causing all the problems. A tiny white dot on a screen or black and grey.
FIRST #4: kidney stones
I’m the first to admit that I generally like stones. The Rolling Stones, the shiny white one you use in your garden to stop weeds, the flat type that skim across the water and bounce when thrown, just right, even the little ones that get caught in your shoe and give you a clippity cloppy sound when you walk. I’m not a fan of Kidney Stones.
No comments:
Post a Comment