Busy couple of days
Apr. 15th, 2009 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpIt's been crazy around here.
I have been in High Tonsil Drama since Saturday, and Sunday I almost didn't go to my grandparents' house for Easter dinner because I felt crappy and didn't want to risk possibly passing on any germs. I ended up going (since my grandfather really wanted everyone there) but never even made it to the dinner table and instead napped on the guest bed until it was time to go home. I feel bad about that, as I wasn't able to sit for dinner with my grandfather, but I had a wicked fever and couldn't eat anyway. Then we all came home.
Monday night, I couldn't sleep because my stupid tonsil hurt so much and was so swollen, and had caused my soft palate and the rest of my mouth/neck to be swollen, and advil and tylenol weren't cutting it, and it was miserable, so Jen told me to go to the ER. While I was at the ER (got there at midnight), I read a book and had to get a CT scan, which was crazy because I had to take out all of my piercings. With no mirror. Score! And then the CT scan showed that it appeared that I had multiple abcesses, so the ER doctor (who was actually quite cool) said that he was going to stick a needle into my peritonsillar area to drain it. (Don't read anymore if you are squeamish).
So I move into this dental-type chair and first he shoots me up with lidocaine and then proceeds to try three times to suck out pus. No pus. He says he has a rule that after three times, he stops. But then he wanted to do one more time. Still nothing. And then he called me the most awesome patient ever for not even flinching and being a rock star. And I got some IV antibiotics and got sent home with instructions to call my ENT doctor in the morning.
I got home at 4:30, fell asleep around 5, and Punk woke me up at 6. GOOD TIMES. I was even more swollen than before, probably from all of the poking around, and could no longer swallow and it was very difficult to talk. I called the ENT doc with a lot of effort and they told me to come in right away. He saw my CT pictures and tried AGAIN to do the needle-pus thing, twice. He also got nothing, and oh my god, by that time, I was so DONE with needles. But he said that since I couldn't swallow, couldn't take my antibiotics, and hadn't eaten since Saturday, that I needed to be admitted into the hospital. Yikes!
I drove myself over there (Tuesday morning), got admitted, and had Jen call my new job to tell them I wouldn't be in the next day for my medical screening. It took forEVer for them to get me into a bed and then they tried SIX times to get an IV (it's not that hard, people) with three different people. And then I watched a marathon of Top Chef and waited for Jen to come by with all of our tax stuff, because we still had to do our state taxes. (Whoops.) I was pretty much the laughing stock of the hospital, sitting in my bed doing taxes. Good times.
Anyway, I got a bunch of antibiotics, an anti-inflammatory, a steroid, and a bunch of other stuff. But while I was in IV hell, I got a call from my uncle that my grandfather had died that morning. And there I was stuck in the hospital and not able to go see my grandmother or anything. I pretty much told all of the staff that I was leaving the next day no matter what (although I needed to get the doctor to agree). But I started feeling a bit better and by the end of Tuesday was eating solid food, so it was all good.
The ENT doc visited me twice in the hospital on Tuesday, once at about 8pm! And then he came again around 8am on Wednesday. On Tuesday he showed up with this weird camera that goes up your nose and down your throat. I seriously hope I don't have to repeat any of these procedures ever again. Freaky. But yeah, when he came on Wednesday morning, he said things were looking much better but that my palate was (very bruised) - probably from all of that needle action, dude! - and that I could leave. WAHOO!
I got home, took a shower (thank you, Jesus), made a couple of calls to reschedule my medical screening to next week, and went to see my grandmother. Then stopped at the flower shop to order funeral flowers, came home, and got to hang out with my kid for a while.
Tomorrow's the visiting hours, with the funeral and burial on Saturday morning. I've never had to navigate a wake/funeral/burial with a toddler. Should be interesting.
I am thankful for the ability to be out of the hospital and that my grandfather had a long and prosperous life, and died peacefully during a nap in his own bed after having a nice big breakfast. God bless you, Grandpa. I love you very much.
I have been in High Tonsil Drama since Saturday, and Sunday I almost didn't go to my grandparents' house for Easter dinner because I felt crappy and didn't want to risk possibly passing on any germs. I ended up going (since my grandfather really wanted everyone there) but never even made it to the dinner table and instead napped on the guest bed until it was time to go home. I feel bad about that, as I wasn't able to sit for dinner with my grandfather, but I had a wicked fever and couldn't eat anyway. Then we all came home.
Monday night, I couldn't sleep because my stupid tonsil hurt so much and was so swollen, and had caused my soft palate and the rest of my mouth/neck to be swollen, and advil and tylenol weren't cutting it, and it was miserable, so Jen told me to go to the ER. While I was at the ER (got there at midnight), I read a book and had to get a CT scan, which was crazy because I had to take out all of my piercings. With no mirror. Score! And then the CT scan showed that it appeared that I had multiple abcesses, so the ER doctor (who was actually quite cool) said that he was going to stick a needle into my peritonsillar area to drain it. (Don't read anymore if you are squeamish).
So I move into this dental-type chair and first he shoots me up with lidocaine and then proceeds to try three times to suck out pus. No pus. He says he has a rule that after three times, he stops. But then he wanted to do one more time. Still nothing. And then he called me the most awesome patient ever for not even flinching and being a rock star. And I got some IV antibiotics and got sent home with instructions to call my ENT doctor in the morning.
I got home at 4:30, fell asleep around 5, and Punk woke me up at 6. GOOD TIMES. I was even more swollen than before, probably from all of the poking around, and could no longer swallow and it was very difficult to talk. I called the ENT doc with a lot of effort and they told me to come in right away. He saw my CT pictures and tried AGAIN to do the needle-pus thing, twice. He also got nothing, and oh my god, by that time, I was so DONE with needles. But he said that since I couldn't swallow, couldn't take my antibiotics, and hadn't eaten since Saturday, that I needed to be admitted into the hospital. Yikes!
I drove myself over there (Tuesday morning), got admitted, and had Jen call my new job to tell them I wouldn't be in the next day for my medical screening. It took forEVer for them to get me into a bed and then they tried SIX times to get an IV (it's not that hard, people) with three different people. And then I watched a marathon of Top Chef and waited for Jen to come by with all of our tax stuff, because we still had to do our state taxes. (Whoops.) I was pretty much the laughing stock of the hospital, sitting in my bed doing taxes. Good times.
Anyway, I got a bunch of antibiotics, an anti-inflammatory, a steroid, and a bunch of other stuff. But while I was in IV hell, I got a call from my uncle that my grandfather had died that morning. And there I was stuck in the hospital and not able to go see my grandmother or anything. I pretty much told all of the staff that I was leaving the next day no matter what (although I needed to get the doctor to agree). But I started feeling a bit better and by the end of Tuesday was eating solid food, so it was all good.
The ENT doc visited me twice in the hospital on Tuesday, once at about 8pm! And then he came again around 8am on Wednesday. On Tuesday he showed up with this weird camera that goes up your nose and down your throat. I seriously hope I don't have to repeat any of these procedures ever again. Freaky. But yeah, when he came on Wednesday morning, he said things were looking much better but that my palate was (very bruised) - probably from all of that needle action, dude! - and that I could leave. WAHOO!
I got home, took a shower (thank you, Jesus), made a couple of calls to reschedule my medical screening to next week, and went to see my grandmother. Then stopped at the flower shop to order funeral flowers, came home, and got to hang out with my kid for a while.
Tomorrow's the visiting hours, with the funeral and burial on Saturday morning. I've never had to navigate a wake/funeral/burial with a toddler. Should be interesting.
I am thankful for the ability to be out of the hospital and that my grandfather had a long and prosperous life, and died peacefully during a nap in his own bed after having a nice big breakfast. God bless you, Grandpa. I love you very much.
