The Colts weren't the only ones to have a bad night!

It all began with the Superbowl. As I chowed down on kielbasa and sauerkraut, caramel popcorn, chips and salsa, meatballs, and any other junk food within a 10 foot radius; and as I chatted and joked with good friends from the neighborhood; and as I watched the Superbowl, not knowing who to cheer for--always a fan of Manning but also of the underdog; my belly began to hurt. At first I thought maybe I had eaten a little too much. Then I wondered if I had food poisoning. But I didn't feel sick necessarily, my tummy just hurt really bad. At half time, I handed the baby over to Hubs because my stomach was hurting too much for me to hold him. A little into 3rd quarter, I told Hubs that I needed to go home. I could barely make it out to the car! We went home, and I curled up into a miserable, sobbing ball on the bed. Hubs was trying to take care of the baby, who was crying, and me, who was also crying. Finally, it got so bad that we decided that I better go to Urgent Care. We called Hub's parents, and they met us at the Urgent Care to get the baby. He was such a trooper. He hung out on the bed next to me moaning and groaning while Hubs got everything ready for us to leave and didn't make a peep. Hubs in true hero style got the baby and all of his stuff out to the car, got the dogs put away for the night, and had to carry me out to the car because I was in too much pain to even walk. He's amazing! At the Urgent Care, the doctor said it looked like we better go to the emergency room. Papa and Grandma took the baby, and we headed off to the ER. Just our luck, we hit every red light on the way! Hubs was starting to get frantic because he hates situations where he can't fix things! Finally, we arrived at the hospital, rushed into the ER...and couldn't find anyone to help us. It was like a ghost town with just a couple of sick people waiting in chairs. A few minutes later, a nurse came out and asked if we had been helped. A few more minutes later, the nurse got my name and jotted down my symptoms. A few more minutes later, the nurse finally took us toward a room. A few more minutes later, after standing in the hall because the room wasn't cleaned yet, I finally got to lie down again. An hour and a half later, we finally saw signs of any hospital staff. I seriously lay on that bed for over an hour and not even a nurse or anyone even popped their head in to check on me. No one came to take blood or have me pee in a cup to run tests or anything. I was in the little hospital gown and cold, and at first, Hubs had his jacket over me. Eventually, he went and found the stash of heated blankets and brought me some. An hour and a half! I hope they were so busy saving lives right and left and not finishing watching the Superbowl! =) Anyway, finally someone came in to see. And who was it? A nurse to finally take care of me? A doctor to try to figure out the problem? No, it was the lady who handles billing to get my insurance info. and get our co-payment. Next time I'm listing 'bleeding money' as one of my symptoms. That should get me immediate attention! And I'll say more about the insurance thing in a minute. A few minutes later, the doctor finally came in. He was a nice guy, just starting his night shift. I told him my symptoms and he gave me the once over. He told me it was hard to figure out the problem because where I was complaining of pain, there isn't really anything to hurt. My symptoms were kind of all over the place. In one way it sounded like it could be one thing, but then another symptom made it look like another. So we started at square one and worked our way through it. I had two conflicting thoughts on the matter: One, I didn't want to have something wrong with me, but, two, I didn't want to have gone through all of this hassle for something like gas. First, they decided to put me on an IV and get some happy medicine. The poor guy trying to get the IV in wasn't doing so good. Strangely, he looked like a student I once taught named Chance. Anyone who knows Chance, knows he's a good kid, but would you want him sticking a needle in you? Probably not? Well, maybe this guy and Chance are related, because after two painful tries, the kid decided to let the nurse do it. He was a nice kid though (and I still think that even after he used me as a pin cushion!) I did get my chance finally to pee in a cup and to give away my blood and that was all sent away to be tested. The nurse finally got the IV to work and pretty soon the happy medicine started to kick in. (You'll notice by now that the key word of this blog entry is 'finally'!) I had to drink three cocktails of apple juice and this dye in preparation for a CT scan. They took me in to do an ultrasound. The girl who did the ultrasound was so nice. Unfortunately for her, at that point in my medicated state, I was feeling quite chatty, and I'm pretty sure I told her my entire life story! And here's a first: the girl actually said, "Your ovaries look good!" That's not a statement I've ever heard! I asked to get it in writing! After the ultrasound, I was at the half-conscious, inebriated state. This is where things start getting a little foggy. I remember telling Hubs that the ultrasound said we're having twins. I remember being taken in to do the CT scan and the nurse kept asking me to repeat what I was saying because I guess I was mumbling and slurring my speech. I remember that as I did the CT scan, a radio was playing in the background and it was playing Sheryl Crow's The First Cut is the Deepest which I would later find ironic. And I remember the machine telling me to breathe. I will not mention, however, the dancing and singing purple and pink elephants...
By the time they took me back to Hubs, I was out cold. They looked at the scans and informed Hubs that it was my appendix and that it needed to come out. It was about two in the morning, so they decided to wait a few hours and take it out Monday morning. I vaguely remember this kid wheeling me to my hospital room. I think he said that his name was James, and he was quite the chatterbox. He was young and looked like this kid named Jimmy that I once went spelunking at Nutty Putty cave with. I really think James and Jimmy are the same person because Jimmy was really chatty too, including reciting love poetry as we squirmed through tunnels. I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, "Oh, but it wasn't a dream! It was a place! And you - and you - and you - and you were there. But you couldn't have been, could you?"
Anyway, around seven or eight I met my surgeon and then the next thing I knew, I was trying to wake up and my mom and Hubs were there laughing at me. I slept pretty much all of Monday and have kind of just been taking it easy this week. Hubs parents brought the baby home Monday night. I was so glad to see him. I was missing him big time! That little stinker totally milked the situation (literally) by convincing grandma that he needed to eat at least every two hours instead of every three. He came home with big, chubby cheeks and a great, big smile. Thank goodness for good family and friends! My poor mom stayed and took care of me Monday and Tuesday, but then had to go home because she didn't feel well. Turns out she has bronchitis! Poor Hubs has been helping with the baby and taking care of me and going to work and doing his school work...he was starting to get burned out with everything on his plate so I decided to throw one more thing on there! My neighbor came and sat with me on Wednesday and helped take care of the baby since I couldn't lift him yet. Finally, yesterday I was able to start lifting him and taking care of him better. The only problem is that I still need to take pain meds now and then, and I can't take care of Turkey when I'm drugged. I get really loopy! So today my Aunt T is taking care of him while I blog. I'm spoiled! =) And the ward probably thinks that I'm constantly coming up with medical excuses so I don't have to cook and people will bring us food! I can't say that I mind the home-cooked meals coming from other homes!
So it has been quite the adventure here the past week. Oh, and did I mention that I got a speeding ticket last Friday? That started my bad luck weekend! I was going 40 mph in a 35 mph zone. My pristine, perfect driving record shattered over 5 mph?! It was out in G-ville while I was visiting my family and going to my cousin's baby shower. The police officer gave me a list of good things I was doing (baby in a car seat, everyone in seat belts, pulled way over for him, license and registration good, insurance good) and said he would just give me a warning but he was on a speed shift. In other words, he had to meet a quota! Darn! It's probably off to traffic school for me. I guess it's not as bad as six years ago when I got pulled over by a police officer on foot! =) Hubs still likes to tease me about that!
Oh, I forgot to write about the insurance thing. Well, we were on my insurance but since I resigned, switched over to Hubs' insurance. My insurance officially ended on January 31st. On Friday I took over the paperwork to get us started on Hubs' insurance. So we were covered when I went to the hospital. However, we didn't think about it at the time, but it turns out that the hospital we went to isn't covered on our new insurance. Because it isn't one of the covered hospitals, there's something like a $4000 deductible. Ouch! Here's where Hubs now needs to go to the ER for a heart attack! I think we've got it figured out now where we'll leave me on COBRA with my insurance since my insurance covers that hospital and then switch me over in a month. What a mess! If I had just waited a couple of weeks, we would have had this information. Oh well. C'est la vie! Everything is a learning experience for sure!
Well, I better be off. I have a couple of posts saved as drafts for some reason, so I'll try to get those posted too. It might be 'Fifty Posts Friday'!