So, I’m lying in the ER exam bed. Actually I kept thinking I was going to be told, “you’re fine, go home,” so I was sitting, despite wearing a truly fetching green and white striped cotton gown with navy blue medallions (backless, of course), because I was, in retrospect, kind of shocky, and it didn’t register that I could, you know, lie down.

Oh, btw, yes, there are pictures.
No, you can’t see them.
But let me just say that cotton gown was even sexier than most bodystockings.
No, really.

Anyway, Dr. Holder (petite, female, cheery) came in, said, “We’re giving you two bags of fluids, and then we’ll do the CT scan, and meanwhile our radiology guy will be bringing you some really tasty lemonade and contrast solution to guzzle.”

Larry, my assigned RN – dark complected, pony tail, khaki scrubs, mild voice – did the IV honors, apologizing for hurting me – we had to use a tiny vein in my hand, and you DO NOT WANT to know how painful that was. My hand is STILL hurting.

The lab tech came and drew blood from a different vein, but with all the different needle sticks, I am pretty much mummified by adhesive bandages at this point.

Tom the CT guy brought me about a tanker full of the lemon contrast stuff. I hadn’t eaten at all, was thirsty despite the IV fluid drip, and would have killed for food or drink, so I can honestly say I didn’t mind the flavor, and the icy liquid was, at that moment, the best thing I ever tasted.

Spent two hours watching whatever was on TNT because it didn’t occur to me to ask for a remote. Was cold, so Larry toasted a blanket for me. Finally reclined in the bed, and texted Deb and Ben all morning (thanks guys) since Fuzzy was across town with Zorro getting his blood work and medicine refills.

Pain was constant but bearable til after the scan, but moving back and forth aggravated it, so I finally caved and accepted Larry’s gentle offer of pain relief just before they released me. (Vicodin on an empty stomach made me so stoned – it hit half an hour later in the drugstore, and I was completely loopy by the time we got home). They said, “we think it’s a virus, so push fluids, rest, and see your regular doc on Monday, but it’s not kidney, pregnancy or appendix, and here, have some anti-nausea drugs, and a bunch more vicodin.”

We got home around three.
I ate something warm and tasty, and took the anti-nausea meds, which helped.
I was in bed by 4.
I just woke up a few minutes ago.
I’m going to eat something else small, take more drugs, and crash again.

I still hurt, but the fluids and pain killers are helping, and at least I didn’t have to have surgery.

If you live in the DFW areas, especially in the southern part of the Mid Cities, and you have a medical emergency on a weekend, let me heartily recommend the ER at Mansfield Methodist. I spent the bulk of my Saturday there, and while it is never fun being ill, and I’d have preferred to spend the day comparing weight benches and confirming that the one I bought is still an amazing machine for the money, for a hospital experience it was surprisingly…nice.

First, let me explain: I’ve been feeling draggy and generally craptastic for about a week – severe fatigue, ennui, a low-grade fever that came and went, and queasiness, though no outright vomiting, that came, and…came. Yesterday morning I felt twinges in the lower right of my abdomen, I thought it was just from not moving around for a week.

Last night after dinner, the twinges became sharp pains, then waves of pain that began in the front and wrapped around my side, and no matter what I did, I felt bloated and thirsty. I took some ibuprofen, and tried to sleep, but woke up in tears around five.

My regular doctor doesn’t work weekends, so I grabbed my laptop from the beside the bed and did a web check-in thing for the local urgent care clinic. They open at eight. I was called at 7:344, and I was patient number 1. I was expecting to be told, “Hi you have a kidney infection, have some antibiotics and push fluids.”

Instead, I was told, “Your blood shows an elevated white count, and your urine shows no signs of blood, pus, or anything else that points to any kind of UTI. You should hit the ER and have a CT scan to rule out appendicitis, because while this could be nothing but a gi infection, with that location, you should be sure.”

So we drove to Mansfield. Actually, I think we drove almost to the South Pole, but the signs said Mansfield, the hospital was new and lovely, and at 9:30 on a Saturday morning, I walked into the ER, presented my notes from CareNow, signed in and was see within five minutes. They brought me to an exam room almost immediately, tested more urine, took more blood (which is a different challenge – my veins are DEEP) and stuck an IV in my hand to push fluids – I was, apparently, dangerously dehydrated despite drinking nonstop.

I’ll continue this in the next post, but I blame all the eps of ER I’ve been watching while writing in the last two days (have been on a season one kick) on the fact that a) I’m sick at all and b) I kept expecting a waiting room full of crying babies and desperate adults.

I’m in the middle of reading this novel I picked up from the $4.98 table (as one does, sometimes) because I liked the title, Pink. The main character does NOT have pink hair like I do, but she does have a very pink attitude. Oh, not in the simpering sweet sense, but in the sense of having a punch of color in both her wardrobe and her attitude.

In another era, I guess she’d be described as spunky. Is pink the new spunk? Perhaps.

Even so, she’s an interesting character, and her contribution of a friend’s wedding is not to pick out the bridesmaid gifts but to design the gown. I love fashion. I love design. I wish I could draw…this book makes me want to learn very badly.

I’ll be formally reviewing it over at Bibliotica early next week, but in the meantime, I just wanted to share that I’m enjoying this novel about a young woman living pinkly.

Sometimes, it’s nice to stay near home, and just have a relaxing weekend that doesn’t involve anything more taxing than seeing a movie and light grocery shopping.

Last night, we met one of Fuzzy’s work buddies for the 8 PM show of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which was delightfully implausible and wonderfully escapist. Shia LaBeouf is becoming quite the performer and growing into a watchable adult, and Harrison Ford is still hot even though he’s showing his age. Or maybe because he is. There’s just something about slightly grizzly, casually disreputable men.

We got home around eleven, and I blogged a bit, and then crashed, slept late today, but not well, because Miss Cleo was on a sugar and cocoa high from stealing a 1/4 pound bar of chocolat noir, and eating it all. I was fairly close to locking her outside for the night, but she’d have barked nonstop.

We finally left the house around three, went to Cracker Barrel for eggs and bacon, and then did the grocery shopping we needed to do (I bought t-bones for tomorrow, an indulgence, but one I’m looking forward to quite a lot), hit Starbucks, hit Blockbuster where we rented a truly atrocious Allen Quartermain film because Fuzzy wanted to see “the character Indiana Jones was inspired by” – I went into the cool, dark bedroom half way through – it was THAT bad.

We also rented Charlie Wilson’s War, because anything that involves Tom Hanks speaking words written by Aaron Sorkin cannot be bad. And when I say rented, I mean, we actually paid money. We didn’t use Blockbuster coupons or exchange DVDs rented by mail, although we have both Enchanted, which I have because Jeremy said I needed to see, and Invasion because I’m all for sci-fi/horror, we just haven’t watched them yet.

And I STILL haven’t seen Sweeny Todd, though I have the soundtrack on one of my mp3 players.

Anyway, tomorrow, we’re hanging out here at home, maybe swimming, maybe just staying inside our blissfully air-conditioned house and watching movies, and maybe catching up on reading and writing.

We’re being homebodies.
And we’re fine with that.