Wasting Away Again in E.R. Waiting Rooms

Looking for my last shred of sanity.

“some people say that the hospital’s to blame, but I know, the system is f*cked.”

Musical (lack of) talent aside, I added another long wait in an E.R. to my resume, this was on the 21st of March to be precise. Let’s take a look back and see.

Friday

I woke up and immediately felt tired- normal actually. Coffee was immediately put on and I started prepping the kids stuff for school. The oldest got on the bus no problem but I had to sit down to rest so I didn’t even recognize my youngest leaving for school as I slept like it was my job. 8am rolled around and I arose like Lazarus and got ready for a meeting for work. During said meeting I could feel the tiredness grip me tighter and tighter. I was weak and light headed and had to take the rest of the day off. The second I signed off I went to bed and slept from 9-3 basically.

Upon waking I felt no better. I was weak, very tired, cold- then hot and sweating, nauseous, short of breath, light headed and more. My pulse, temperature and oxygen levels were okay but my blood pressure was low. We called the cancer center and they advised we go to the ER. We got to the ER after 5 or 6? I don’t fully remember.

As ER waiting rooms go this was about on par with a normal time:

1. 6-7 hour wait

2. Barefoot man in a tshirt and pants sitting in a fetal position silent the whole time.

3. Old white slob yelling:

   1. They they’re trying to kill him because they wouldn’t see him immediately.

   2. At his mail order bride that she’s too submissive and passive.

   3. That he needs a manager

   4. To 911 that he wants to go to Condor hospital?

   5. And “Oh” like a stereotyped Italian when his wife accidentally(?) pushed his wheelchair into something.

4. Very old Asian woman who was in bad shape but was in worse shape when her daughters arrived and pulled the plugs she had in her nose and she could not stop bleeding and possibly died?

5. A daughter yelling at her dad for falling and breaking his glasses. Said father had a giant gash on his head and said he thinks he broke his arm. Daughter proceeds to shove his arm in his coat and they leave.

Saturday

Again, a normal day in the ER. After the wait I did get a room where I saw for the first time ever Laurel and Hardy. And for the last time I saw Laurel and Hardy.

I went for an Xray and a CT and was told it appeared to be pneumonia- yay. So they started me on 2 antibiotics via IV, the last having to be stopped every ten minutes so I didn’t vomit- yay. After that the options were to go home and take oral antibiotics or to be admitted. Admission sucks but was the smarter option. So I went to sleep in the ER bed which roughly gives about an inch of space on all sides of you while I waited for my bed upstairs.

I was awoken in the morning letting me know I would be transferred from Glenview to Evanston. It wasn’t a choice because when I asked they told me if I waited I would sit there in a room forever. Don’t worry, they didn’t say it that cold- it was much worse. (The rest of the staff that weekend was perfect).

An ambulance transport, while small talk was trying to be made with me while tired and uncomfortable, felt like it took forever before I was finally wheeled through the entire the hospital to my room. At Evanston my message to everyone who entered my room was that I wanted to go home Sunday- or I should say I told them I need to go home. Luckily I did feel better- or as best as a stage 4 incurable cancer patient can feel.

The attending physician and two residents actually reviewed my chart and informed me that they thought I had viral pneumonia or pneumonitis- which is not baby pneumonia as I thought. So antibiotics were not needed at all but rather they thought I just had to wait it out. Which I was okay with I guess, considering I was feeling better than before. Other than that Saturday was pretty uneventful- other than the ultimate cancer patient hospital contradiction: I had an IV in both arms, one previously removed thinking it would not be needed again for a total of three sticks, yet an untouched port. I ordered from the cafeteria where food has drastically improved from what I remember and watched Twisters and a lot of Harry Potter (I hope somehow Severus Snape and Hans Gruber are brothers).

Sunday

I slept pretty well, given I could hear everything the person in the next room said and watched. Also I won the hospital lottery and only got woken up for blood draws at 6am. To my surprise I was discharged before noon and on my way home.

And that is where I’ll stop it for now. There is more to this as I’m still dealing with it but I’ll keep that for another post. Big thanks to my parents and Rachel for driving, handling shit and more.

Also I will write as I can. I have been so fatigued and weak at times that my energy is conserved as much as possible. Thank you as always for all the support.

-Joe