Hell: Doctors, Mothers, and Iron Maidens
Between doctors, my mother, and Iron Maidens these past few weeks have been hell.
I had gone to the emergency room the week or so before my family reunion. I had awakened about 9 am one morning and was working on an email when my hands suddenly didn't feel as if they belonged to me and I had an overwhelming desire to sleep.
I went back to sleep and when my dad woke me at 4 that afternoon (or was it 2? I don't remember), I stumbled to the bathroom. While brushing my teeth, I was wondering why my head felt like it was a huge balloon; I had only drunk 4 beer the evening before. Then, I looked in the mirror. My left pupil was tiny and my right pupil was huge.
After calling the doctor's office and getting the answering service (not realizing it was Sunday), I asked my dad to take me to the ER. They did a full workup for stroke, as the left side of my face was droopy, I was uncoordinated, and speech was difficult. I wasn't slurring; I could articulate, but had lots of trouble finding words and finishing sentences.
An overnight stay, 2 CT scans, 3 MRIs and an echocardiogram showed I did not have a brain tumor and had not suffered a stroke, aneurysm, or any sort of blockage, so the hospital promptly kicked me out without so much as a “go see your doctor.” I'm serious. The doctor just walked into my room and said “Good news! You can go home now.” I asked if that is it, and she said, “Yes, you can go home, now.”
Realizing that was all the doctor was going to say, I then asked, “What do I do now?”
The doctor replied, “Whatever you want.” Shocked and looking for some sort of guidance, I asked if any of this may be related to EDS or Chronic Lyme (as I have both). I was told, verbatim, “We treat acute issues here. If you have a chronic issue, you need to see your primary care.”
I told that doctor that I was still having acute issues: my pupils were still uneven, I was still uncoordinated, I still couldn't speak properly, and I had fluid coming out of my left ear!
She simply said, “We can do nothing more for you,” and walked out of the room! WOW!
I think they realized I had Medicare and they wouldn't be paid as much as a private insurance would pay. Plus, they were 'out of network,' so the insurance pays even less. (I have a Medicare Advantage plan)
I sat and cried for an hour before I went home. I'm going to take this up with the administrator when I'm up for the fight.
A few days later, my symptoms had begun to subside, although I remain photosensitive and the hyperacusis remains more pronounced than before. However, out of sheer determination, I decided to make the trip to my family reunion.
Oh, the reunion was fun: an overabundance of food and family, freshly caught blue crab boiled and piled high on long tables, beer, music, barefoot kids running around everywhere into the dark of the night...the epitome of a Louisiana Saturday Night! It was great!
The traveling was not. I'm glad I had a night at Mom's before going to the reunion. Dad has a small, older truck which has never given a smooth ride, even with good shocks. The short 3-1/2 hour trip to Houston was bad enough to put me in bed shortly after arriving at Mom's house. The respite at Mom's was just what I needed for the long trip ahead... or so I thought.
Louisiana roads are horrible. Not only is the soil under the road is as mobile as the cars on top the road, Louisiana drivers pay about ¼ the road tax Texas does, and only does so every four years as opposed to annually in Texas! Therefore, Louisiana receives roughly 1/16 the taxes per vehicle, and has less cars than Texas. So, you can imagine the road conditions.
<Not much difference in the ride, regardless of your vehicle's shocks>
During this 10-hour ride of torture from Houston to New Orleans, in mom's new car which has good suspension, every bump in the road felt like I was being flung from a cliff onto sharp rocks. Every time the roughness in the road made the car vibrate, it was like a sentry of fire ants stinging under the skin on the body part that happened to feel the vibrations (which was most body parts). Every time the car swayed or made a turn, the motion would make my head swim. In Louisiana, there's a LOT of bumps and even MORE rough roads (or is that a lot of rough roads and more bumps? :-P )! Thankfully not many turns were required to reach our destination.
Add to this some idiot convinced auto makers to make headrests that are either supposed to sit halfway inside the back of the rider's skull or force everyone in the car to sit slouched over with their head thrust forward like monkeys. This wreaks havoc on those of us who sit upright like humans, especially those of us with rods and pins in our neck and spines to ensure proper positioning. WTF is up with this???
I think I now know what it feels like to ride in a clapboard cart on a hard dirt road inside a medieval iron maiden the morning after a night of drinking 5 gallons of moonshine.
While at the reunion, my mother would not leave me alone. If she could not see me she would ask everyone where I was. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without her knocking on the door to see if I was ok. I'm not kidding you! I was ready to strangle her (figuratively speaking?)! I didn't say anything to her, hoping that when we got back to her house, she would let up.
We stayed in the best (and I think only) hotel the swamps of Chalmette have to offer (aka, Best Western) for two nights: before the reunion and the night before the return trip home. The hotel was clean and as fresh as can be in perpetual 4500% humidity conditions. Condensation was on everything: the carpet was wet, the windows were opaque from water droplets, my Orca cooler sweat for the first (and only) time, and the fresh bath towels felt freshly wrung from the swimming pool. Even with such a 'refreshing' overnight stay, sharing a small and wet bed with my sister and listening to both my parents snore in the other small bed for the second night in a row, my nerves were in overdrive.
On the way home, the sensations I explained above were amplified what seemed to be tenfold. I must have drunk 50 gallons of moonshine and the Iron Maiden was squeezed just a couple notches tighter. I passed out from pain at least once shortly before we got back to my Mom's house. Thankfully, I was facing away from my Mom; she thought I fell asleep.
Dad & I only stayed one night with Mom before we came home. We had to because Mom didn't let up.
I had to tell her to quit treating me like I was a psychopath about to commit murder if she blinked, and threatened I would be if she didn't back off. She said, “I just want to help you.”
I told her, “Then help me, but don't treat me like an invalid who requires you to provide every breath I take. Help me in the way I need help. Don't 'help' me to make yourself feel better; that's not helping.”
I actually looked forward to spending another 3-1/2 hours in Dad's iron maiden a la cart, bouncing home.
Next year, Dad & I are flying.
Photo Credits:
Model T on dirt road: www.barefootsworld.net/graphics/t_in_iowa.jpg
Iron Maiden: http://kervinphotos.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html
All others are my own photos.
I'm glad you documented your adventures on the blockchain. So much going on, its good to get it recorded so you can look back on it in the future. I love the way you tell your tale! The food looks great. Thanks for the pic and the torturous but funny family travel story!
Gotta have a sense of humor or go crazy. <Or did I find it afterwards? hmmm..>
nice please upvote for me
Keep calm and trust in life.✌
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