Lessons I Learned At The ER

SO...
for you gentle readers who are not friends on Facebook and were thus unable to be riveted to my status updates, (I remember thinking, so this is where Twitter comes in handy), yesterday I picked Mom up at 10:30 AM and whisked her to the UNC ER because she was - er - impacted.
Or, as I so lovingly put it as we walked to the car, full of shit.

(laughter, the best medicine - right?)

One de-impacting, one enema, some vomiting, two x-rays, one CT scan, one ultrasound, one Foley catheter, three nurses, two doctors, and fourteen and a half hours later, we left.

omg.

Here's what I learned:
1.) EAT YOUR FIBER

2.) Drink plenty of fluids - especially water
Example - see above.

3.) Wear eye protection - all the time.
Example:
(this doctor had an all caps voice)
CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE?
WHAT YEAR IS IT?
SIR, CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR EYE? (indistinct mumbling)
SIR, WHAT HAPPENED? (indistinct mumbling continues)
SIR, CAN TELL ME WHY YOUR EYE LOOKS LIKE THAT? (indistinct)
SIR, CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED? (etc.)
SIR, YOUR EYE IS DAMAGED, YOU'RE GOING TO NEED SURGERY.


4.) Do NOT ever get a salivary gland infection.
Example: twenty minutes of listening to a man first have a camera put down his nose, then a breathing tube inserted.
The nurse who did it was very sweet, he was also [one of ] Mom's nurses, he said when I told him it made my stomach hurt to listen that it wasn't as bad as it sounded.
It sounded pretty bad.

In addition, there was all the various and constant dings, buzzes, rings, clanging, banging, intercom announcements, people vomiting, or saying "Ouch, OUCH! Stop doing that!" 


Thankfully we were in an honest to goodness room from which to eavesdrop on other people's pain, not in one of those horrible beds lining the hallway. There was a very comfortable reclining chair for me. Small gifts, greatly appreciated.



Mom slept through a lot of it. She was a trooper, until the very end. I don't think she liked the last nurse, who seemed to be in a big hurry to get rid of us.
Mom got mad and said she wasn't going to go or put on her clothes because she was already home.
"I don't like this!", she declared of the Foley catheter and leg band. (Instead of the bag you have to carry like a purse full of urine. I know - ewwwwww! I really couldn't see her being able to handle that at all.)

Don't blame her one bit.

Oh, and last but not least - to everyone who commented, prayed, thought good thoughts, wished for the best, offered to feed cats, bring me ruby slippers or pie, and made me laugh, (you know who you are Becky Kelley!) - Thanks! It meant a lot. Really.