Sunday, February 13, 2011
Ninja Death Star Flu*
I was supposed to work Saturday morning and was told I needed to get a doctor's note. Yay! Nothing like spending $100+ for a doctor to say, "yup...you're sick!" Wouldn't a picture of my barf in the toilet suffice? So I trekked to acute care at 9am (when they opened) and was greeted by a full room of sick kids with their mommies and their blankies. Color me jealous. Also, if I wasn't sick already, I'll be twelve different kinds of sick by the time today is over. Yayzies! I was told the wait would be around an hour. During that hour I managed to make multiple trips to the public bathroom to puke my guts out. Uh yeah... the reason I didn't want to go to work is because it's just gross and wrong to puke in a toilet that isn't yours, right? Ugh. Fail.
I finally got in around 10am and the nurse took my vitals. And then let me sit there.... for an hour and 15 minutes before a doctor came in. At which time I laid down on the exam table in the fetal position alternating trying to sleep with my stocking hat covering my eyes and fighting back tears because I was in so much pain and infuriated that I was at the doctor's who wasn't even seeing me instead of laying in my bed resting. At one point I had to throw up but there wasn't anyone around to point me in the direction of a bathroom. Awesome. Hey nurse, if I tell you that I've been throwing up non-stop since 3am while you're taking my vitals, might not be a bad idea to let me know where the nearest bathroom is before leaving me. Just sayin'. I guarantee Nurse Susan would never let this happen.
Finally the doctor comes in around 11:30 and I tell him my symptoms and that I'm sure I have the flu, and my health insurance sucks, so I don't want him to run a bunch of tests that I can't afford, and can I please just have a note for work so I can go home and die.
He decides to run a white blood cell count test to rule out an infection, proving it's the flu so I can be on my merry way. So the nurse comes in to take my blood work and I demand she takes me to a bathroom to yak, so I don't do it on her instead. After another 45 minutes of waiting the doctor comes back to say that my white blood cell count is extremely high, and that I have an infection of some sort. DON'T CARE DUDE GIVE ME MY NOTE SO I CAN GO THE EFFFFFFFFF HOME!!!!!!!! (Sidenote: Doc sounded just like Jar Jar Binks, so it was slightly ok that he was so incapable of doing his job.)
More tests! Yay! Perhaps it's a kidney infection! Yay! Of course I set to googling my white blood cell count on my phone (seriously...smart phone SAVED ME while I was waiting...waiting...waiting....) however googling your symptoms while in the doc's office is not the smartest thing. "Oh great... I have leukemia...."
After the results of more tests, and more pressing on my stomach, and excessively long wait time, might I add, the doctor comes back and says "I have no idea what kind of infection you have.... but if the pain gets worse, go to the ER." ARE YOU EFFFFFFING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! I sat here for 4 hours and by sat I mean, laying on a stone hard cot writhing in pain and agony, and you don't know what's wrong with me?!?!?!? You couldn't just write me an effing note hours ago?!?!? Oh... and he also said that I was severely dehydrated, to which I replied, well yeah, I've been throwing up non-stop since early this morning, and I've been here for the last 4 hours without anything to drink while still throwing up, so I'm sure I am dehydrated. Pissed off Patty = Jerbear.
So he gives me a script for an antibiotic, which I don't have filled because I don't understand how you can perscribe an antibiotic for an infection if you don't know where the infection is. PLUS as I mentioned, my health insurance sucks and I'm sure all those tests will cost me $$$$$ that I do not have.
And just for good measure, I barf again in their bathroom before leaving.
OH! And I almost forgot to mention.... once I got home I was obviously in a lot of pain and discomfort. And after awhile, found that the pain was somewhat bearable when I was laying on my back instead of on my side... which I hate laying on my back but whatever. In my highly feverish state, I started getting all Dr. House and analogy-ridden. Case in point: I was half asleep/half dreaming/half Dr. House (I think) and I was diagnosing my (the patient's illness) by stating that there were a group of children at a kid's birthday party. When the kids were upright, they were happy and having fun (meaning when I was laying on my back) but when they were tipped on their side they were crying and throwing tantrums. Ok, now remove the children from the party.... what's wrong with your stomach? And then I realized I was losing brain cells from the fever, and I was sad.
*Name Patent Pending