I just got back from the hospital a little bit ago. Because I decided to finally do the right thing and take care of myself when I’m having a reaction. Fine, I decided a little too late – should have gone at around 6:45 when the hives (hives!!! haven’t seen those in forever!) started and the throat started closing. But benedryl helped until I ate again at dinner time at 8:30. One of my hives started burning like crazy – had to ice it to stop the pain – and my throat started closing again and I got weak and tired and couldn’t speak easily. But I could breathe just fine, so…
After much debate and two more benedryl, I made my way to the hospital at 10pm. Was taken kind of quickly, got a snarky, “So what do you eat?” from the triage nurse, so I responded as though it was a typical question on her form, because I don’t have time for that rudeness, and was ushered off to the “chairs” in the ER. Because there weren’t enough beds. Two hours and only one nurse later, I still hadn’t seen a doctor. And my swelling was subsiding by this point but I knew I’d be screwed for the next few days for not taking care of this sooner. So I approached the bench, if you will, and talked to a doctor who was doing paperwork. She said she understood, and ordered some steroids (Prednisone) and Pepcid (an antihistamine that blocks stomach histamines, as opposed to benedryl which blocks other histamines). Easy as pie. Because she and I both knew what I was there for. I was alive, just needed medicine, and doctors don’t prescribe meds in the middle of the night except in ERs. I waited about half an hour for the prescription to be filled, talked to a resident soon after, and he monitored me for an hour – wherein I got a rash all over my stomach and back (what is with these skin reactions?) but he said it was no bigs and as long as my throat wasn’t worsening, I could go. So now I’m on the steroids for the next few days (just in time to stay up all night retelling the story of the Jews’ exodus from Egypt, woot Passover! Maybe I’ll pull a Rabbi Tarfon and stay up until the zman comes), more pepcid, more benedryl…
Guess I won’t be trying wheat on day 30, which is tomorrow. Not sure if this month of a cleanse has been successful or not. I guess I learned that I’m not crazy and that I can take care of myself and how to do so, but I don’t know if I narrowed my allergies at all. Because I didn’t positive to apples, and all I ate at 6:45 was an apple…so…something is amiss. But we’ll figure it out. This’ll end.
Anyway, things I overheard in the emergency room:
1. “I smoked marijuana before I came here because I was nervous about the surgery. So I thought that if I was gonna die today I may as well enjoy myself and go out with a bang, I was so good when I got here but I’ve been waiting so long it’s all gone now.”
2. “She found the knife, was playing with it, and then tased herself.”
3. “I’m not going to pee in a cup. I don’t have to pee. I feel like I’m going to throw up, I’m not here to pee. I’m here to sit down. And get better.” BEAT. “I have another cup in my purse from the last person who told me to pee. I’ll pee when I have to pee.”
Let me tell you, it was no Grey’s Anatomy. I was dying for Lexie or Christina or someone but mostly it was a bunch of tired NYers who are total honey badgers (ie: don’t give a fuck).
And yeah…I’m awake. That’s what ‘roids and 5 hours in a hospital will do for you.