I ask this because I was recently in the hospital. We are still trying to figure out what is wrong, I say still trying to figure out because I’m still not over whatever this mess is, and believe me I’m not at all happy with what happened while I was there.
I know that several of you have run into at least one of these if not several if you have been around for a while. You know, the doctor who thinks because he or she wears that little white coat thinks he or she is a bit above everything and everyone and God forgive you if you should have the audacity to ask even the minutest question. We won't go into asking something of them that shows your intelligence not to mention something that might actually show that you assume you have the right to ask anything major. You should accept the fact that he or she said so should be enough for you and you should simply say yes sir or yes ma’am with the right amount of abundant gratitude and a respect that should go beyond bordering on hero worship to the almost God like reverence they deserve. I am here to tell you I am the worst nightmare for those pompous asses because I not only don’t feel that way about any of them but I border on the ‘I really don’t give a crap what your opinion of yourself is you have a job like anyone else so damn well do it and leave your ego at the door attitude.’
During my stay I had one doctor in the ER that I really don’t have much of a memory of due to the fact that I was sick as a dog and it was so bad that the paramedics had to scrape me of out of the yard because I passed out on my way to the vehicle for my husband to take me to the ER. Obviously there was a slight hitch in that plan since I was scraped up out of the yard. My husband and daughter liked him so that’s good enough for me. The problem was the doctor I got once I was admitted to the hospital that things went downhill faster than a greased pig being shoved down an even more heavily greased slide on a seventy-five degree angle. It went down quick.
This arrogant ass started playing Russian roulette wheel with the meds that the doctor put me on in the ER and did that the whole time I was there. He along with a couple of nurses, not all but some, decided to question everything that was listed as things I can’t take. Then when you try to tell them they act like you don’t have a brain in your head and there is no way that is a problem and can I be sure that I can’t take those meds. Well let’s go back and reexamine what happened after I took some of those meds before starting with having to be scraped off the floor because I went into Anaphylactic shock and hell no we are not going to try and see if the same thing might happen if they use that med on me now.
I mean this guy would change the meds midway through the day for no reason other than he got his ‘shingles,’ for anyone who doesn’t know what that word is I’ll have to deal with that later with another post, from doing that kind of thing. I think it mostly had to do with the fact that he was having his own little personal pissing contest with the ER doctor. It was evidently so bad that the head of the pharmacy department paid me a visit to ask me what was going on and after talking to me for quite a bit said something under her breath and rolled her eyes. She ended the discussion with something to the effect “I’m so sorry about all this. You’ve lived with your body for a number of years so I would think you have enough sense to know what you can and can’t take. If you need my help with anything or have any problems call me.” I thanked her and she went on her way appearing to be agitated and shaking her head as she went out the door. Now I don’t know about you but I have been in the hospital a few times and I’ve never had the head pharmacist pay me a visit to discuss my meds before.
The second day I was there the “I’m Mr. Doctor Wonderful” decided he was going to send me home at some point during that day when he came into my room early that morning. He justified this by telling me I could be sick at home just as easily as I could be sick there. Now when I went in I had a white blood count of 23,000 thousand and the last time they took my blood for anything was the night before when the count had gotten down to 13,700. He left the room and not ten minutes later the nurse came into my room and unhooked the IV fluids I was on, now mind you I was still losing everything that went into me from both ends and that’s as far as I’m going with that. For some reason he never made it back to me and I waited for the rest of the day for that asshole to return and discharge me.
The nurses didn’t come back and hook me up to the IV again and they didn’t take another blood sample or culture. He did come back in a little before noon the next day and shoved me out the door. I get home and was still running a fever and it got up to 103.7 at one point. Yes I was still losing everything I tried to put on my stomach from one end or the other, sometimes both at once. Again that’s all I’m going to say on that.
I get home and certainly of that fact because I’m no longer at the mercy of that arrogant ass. My husband wanted to at least take my temp so I allowed that to happen and I was running a temp of 101.8 with it ultimately hitting 103.7. For the rest of the night until midmorning the next day my temp was on a roller coast ride that if they somehow found a way to measure those ups and downs and the curves it through me they would be able to charge thousands of dollars because the ride would be that intense. Here it is now an entire week since I came home and I’m still running a fever.
Now you might ask why I didn’t go back to the emergency room but I really didn’t feel like sitting in an ER waiting room until all hours of the morning and we all know that’s exactly what would have happened. It was Friday freaking night, not to mention Friday the thirteenth. I might be crazy but I have absolutely no desire to go and sit in the waiting room an ER of some hospital with people even crazier than me. Shut up over there. Yes there are people crazier than me. I did call the administration department in between being sick to my stomach and feeling so bad that all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball somewhere and make the world go away and leave me alone and being so mad I could chew nails. Hell compared to the treatment I received in the hospital the nails might have worked better.
Capping this all off I did go to my physician and I have faith that he will get me better but he changed the antibiotic. That too could warrant its own blog but I have to jerk this out and shed some light on it. I have to ask do the pharmaceutical company’s not think before they pull a name out of their asses to slap on the chemical compounds that they spew out of their machines and then ship them off in mass quantities to the mostly poor unsuspecting public or do they sit around trying to come up with the most ridiculous names they can come up with and then sit back and laugh their asses off all the way to the bank. I have a feeling it’s the second.
Anyway my doctor put me on one of the strongest antibiotics, at least that’s what I’ve been told, and sent me home to get better. What is the name of this wonder drug? Flagyl. Yes you heard me right, Flagul. It sounds more like something that should be exploding out your butt hole than something you should be popping into your mouth.