Why do I spend more time in hospitals away from home and Liz than the other way around? I came to Houston last night around midnight, did a client presentation from 9-11 this morning, and was back at the airport by noon. I had a client phone meeting and had a relaxing lunch. The second I finished eating, I got an incredible pain in my side and back.
What to do? Who wants to take extreme measure and find out that it was only gas? Who wants to get on a plane and force an emergency landing if it gets worse. I decided on a delaying tactic, but the walk to my gate was slow and painful. By the same I got there, I was feeling clammy, nauseous, and a lot of pain. I asked the gate attendant to call the medics. When they came, I started vomiting in earnest. I of course was the hit of the airport crowd, surrounded by people who were doing their best to see what was going on while appearing to pay no attention. I felt so crummy, I didn't care that hundreds of people were watching me vomit my guts out.
When the ambulance guys came, they were socializing with the airport medics-- I had no patience for it--I wanted pain medication as fast as possible. I felt like it took forever to get to the hospital, get checked in, get evaluated, and finally get that shot. Pain medication is a wonderous miracle. How lucky to live in a time that I can be in dreadful, horrible pain, and in a matter of second it's gone, like it never happened.
They're thinking kidney stones, appendix, gall bladder. I had a CT scan, but they're having technical difficulties, so I'm not sure when I'll get results. In the meantime, I'm playing words with friends and talking to Liz via FaceTime. Ain't technology great!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
No comments:
Post a Comment