Against Medical Advice
He picked me up and we headed to the doctor's office, calling the doctor on the way there to let them know. The doctor told us to go to the ER instead. So we turned around and headed back towards the hospital. Once there, I was plopped into a wheelchair and wheeled into an emergency room, where I was moved onto a bed and hooked up to about ten different things. I swear all those doctors and nurses were about 12 years old, or maybe I'm just getting old. Honestly, I felt fine and there was no more pain, but the tests began. Well, the needle poking began. A nurse came in to start an IV line and after digging a needle around in my left arm for about five minutes, she decided the right arm must be a better spot. After digging the needle around in my right arm for five minutes, she packed up and left the room. Another nurse was sent in to try and stick me. I was not happy at all. The new nurse decided the back of my left hand was the perfect place for the needle, but she was unable to hook me up either. I can't even begin to tell you how much fun I wasn't having. In comes nurse number three, who finally found a way into my vein, quite painfully I might add. I think she even smirked. My arms and hand began to bruise immediately.
After a surge of medical history questions, blood tests, chest xrays, an ekg, and a host of other tests, it was determined that all was clear. My heart looked great, my heart rate was perfect, my oxygen level was perfect, my blood pressure was perfect. In the interest of over-cautiousness, it was decided that I should stay at least two hours to be monitored and at the end of the two hours, they would run the tests again. I was okay with that. Two hours passed and I was then informed that, just to be sure, they needed to admit me to the hospital, keep me overnight, run tests on me every six hours then make me take a stress test in the morning. I was immediately moved from the bed to a wheelchair to another bed on the second floor. I was livid at this point. There was NO way I wanted to stay overnight just so they could "be sure." After all, I was told everything looked great after the initial tests and I felt just fine.
Once in the new hospital room, a new doctor appeared, then a nurse, then another nurse. There were papers to sign, more questions to answer, and more appliances hooked up to me. Finally my husband and I were left alone in the room. I looked at him and said, "I am NOT staying here. Get me out of here NOW." He went into the hallway and informed them we were leaving. The floor nurse came in with threats of insurance companies that won't pay for my bills from the visit and scolded me for wanting to go home, while she unhooked me from the hospital monitors. I didn't even care. I signed myself out Against Medical Advice and went home. I informed my husband that might be the last time I ever tell him I don't feel good. Surviving today's ER experience was "stress test" enough for me!
Labels: Living Well