After trip number four to the emergency room this morning, I really thought we were all set in that department. Apparently not. I think we're headed back tonight - that's one m-effing stubborn nosebleed. In the meantime, I generally use this blog for good (with bad writing), but I just need a sec to vent. I know that hospitals are here to help and that they are imperfect, as everything is. I know that working in an ER must be a thankless job. I know that I have neither the intellectual capacity nor drive to be able to do such a thing and am so grateful that others can. That said, I am as enraged as much as someone like me (I'm still 97% cyborg) can be enraged. This morning, we were promised an ear nose and throat guy. We were promised an appointment in the clinic. We were promised that someone would actually look at the chart and at least think about what was happening and why. None of those things happened. We went home with another prescription for pain pills and no sign of cause or plan for relief, except to call back on Wednesday to see how he's doing. What the eff. In the meantime, Dad's got cotton shoved up literally to his eyeball. Not comfortable. Know what else isn't comfortable? Watching a room full of people wait in silence as their injuries throb, heads bleed, chests race, worries mount. And I couldn't do anything to help.
The problem with my life at the moment is that, I think, and I'm not sure, my frozen robot heart is slowly warming up. It's about time, but we'll see. I would consider this a good thing, an absolutely terrifying thing, but a good thing. However, with this unfreezing for good comes a new capacity for the opposite. I am a mess when I would normally be just fine. It's all I can do not to curl up in a ball on my floor and sob. And I just might. This is not that big of a deal. It's a nosebleed. But I am helpless. All I can do is read blood pressure and back talk the doctors when they give us the runaround only to feel bad about it later. I am so scared it's a symptom for something else. Of course, I am also on one meal a day since Friday and a total of about 10 hours of sleep since then.
In the meantime, I will walk my dog and continue my internet research on unstoppable nosebleeds.
blargh.
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14 comments:
Unfortunately, I think the order is as follows. Hospitals are here to:
1. make money
2. help
I really hope everything works out with your dad soon!
Hospital visits suck - having spent much time in them over the last two years with my father too, I can empathize.
I feel strongly that everything is going to be OK. And c'mon, everything I feel ends up being correct.
thanks guys. i don't mean to whine and i think everything's going to be ok. it's just that it makes me think about what if it were not, you know? stupid maturity jerks.
"Prairie Fire that Wanders About"?
"In the Devil's Territory"?
"For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti"?
"All Good Naysayers, Speak Up! Or Forever Hold Your Peace"?
"Enjoy Your Rabbit"?
just remember that if it was really serious or life threatening, they wouldn't be treating you this way. they'd've had him in surgery already.
or, at least, that's the way it should work. things in ok might be weird.
Ugh, seeing your parents vulnerable is terrifying. Here's a hug. *hug*
it must be b/c all of the doctors and nurses are too hot and horny to pay attention to "symptoms" and "illnesses." i mean, we all know that they spend 90% of their time doing it in the on call room/stairwell/dead guy room/pill closet, right?
I hope you and your family get some answers soon. The unknown is so frustrating.
My father deals with the VA for treatment. Talk about getting the runaround.
Wow, you'd think they'd be a little better about it, just from a liability point of view. Juries go crazy when they hear things like "we were there on Friday and they told us to come back tomorrow, then they told us to come back the next day, then the next...". I'm not saying you'll wind up suing anyone, I'm just saying it makes them look bad.
tell dr. bee-spot to lay off brother bee-spot's coke.
Nosebleeds are no joke. When I was a shorty, I'd get them and have to go to the ER about twice a year. That cotton hurts like a mother fucker. You're doing a good job with this, Bee. For rills.
Oh, blythe, I hope everything gets sorted out soon. A parent in the hospital is the suck.
Im glad mr shain told the coke joke, I didnt want to have to.
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