I've had this weird little twinge in my right side for the past couple weeks and kind of just ignored it. I figured it'll either go away or turn into something. Well, it turned into something.
Thursday was my active day. I got my trash kicked in Self-Defense class by my own mother (pent up rage, Mom?) Then went rock climbing with my sisters and was pretty proud of myself despite being really rusty.
I was reading that night with the cat laying on my side and it kind of hurt so I thought, "Jeez, Fatso, you are obviously crushing me." And kicked the cat out. Then I went to sleep.
At 2AM I woke up from dreams of being stabbed with a barbecue prong to the nagging feeling that my organs were about to break free of my torso. It hurt A LOT. The next few moments involved me pathetically dragging myself to the bathroom to puke and just collapsing in the hallway and laying on my face, making sad dying animal noises instead. I couldn't even stand up straight, it was ridiculous.
I debated what I should do. Wake up my roommate/brother in the next room? Call 911? Try to drive myself to the hospital without passing out? I nearly talked myself out of doing anything and just waiting it out but then decided it hurt kind of a lot so this was a hospital thing. In the end, I drove myself to the ER because I still didn't want to bug anyone.
Once there, I felt really foolish. I hobbled up to the desk like a sad little quasimoto and grunted my info to the lady behind the glass. When the nurse asked me what was wrong, I started feeling like a hypochondriac because I could not describe what was happening to my body and was starting to think they might not find anything.
After the doctor checked me out, my nurse came in with a cart full of torture devices and was creepily chipper about my demise. He cheerfully told me they were going to shove an IV in my arm, take a bunch of blood, run some awful-sounding tests, and do an ultrasound. I did not mask my irritation with being stuck there for hours doing unpleasant things to which he replied, "Where did you think you were - the Ice Cream Parlor? This is the HOSPITAL!". Touche, Sassy Nurse. He did give me morphine, though, and that was kind of nice.
In the end, they found a gigantic mother-freakin' ovarian cyst that had ruptured and was oozing all up in my other organs. No serious damage done but they said it'd be painful for another few days and prescribed me some narcotics, which apparently make me naseous and migraine-y.
The funny thing is I had joked with my boss about calling in sick on Valentines day since it's the busiest day of the year at our restaurant. Then I ended up doing that exact thing.
It was 4 or 5 in the morning when I finished up at the hospital and since they'd given me morphine I did have to call my brother for a ride home. There really is no reassuring way to ask your brother to pick you up at the ER and I completely left out my reason for being there so he was properly freaked out when he rolled up.
I also forgot that my parents are insane and get up at 4 every morning so when I texted them to let them know I had used their insurance, they started texting and calling immediately and I realized I didn't need to wake Brady up after all - I could have just called them.
Poor Brady got woken up a couple hours later when I ignored a call from my mom and she called him instead. I woke up to this in my doorway, telling me it needed my keys:
Apparently an hour later, Brady got woken up AGAIN by the dogs and nearly blew a gasket at them. Poor brother.
My mom came to my house and dragged me out of bed so she could keep an eye on me at her house since Brady and Eli were going out of town.
So, since then I've been in and out of consciousness due to all the narcotics and aside from being sore all over my torso, I'm feeling way better and glad to have my family around. Maybe next time I won't ignore it when there's a ticking time bomb in my gut, as much fun as it's been.
