Sorry I haven’t posted in a few days. I was a little preoccupied.
Husband had been having chest pains for a few days and decided it was best to play it safe and go to the hospital.
33 years old + chest pain = VERY scary
So picture it… Emergency room. St. Clair Hospital. A few days ago… Husband (Graham) was poked and prodded with needles, an IV, chest x-rays, and an EKG. The doctor thought it was something called Pericarditis, which sounds horrifying.
Since he wasn’t sure he asked him to stay overnight for observation.
He stayed in pretty good spirits; of course being helped by my charming personality and ability to make bizarre and scary circumstances into amusing scenes.
The next day he had more tests, saw a new doctor (that I would like to name “McSkeazy”) and ate more bizarre school cafeteria looking food. The diagnosis remained the same although they still weren’t positive. So, another night it was.
Finally, on the third day, he saw a cardiologist and the diagnosis was upheld and he was sent home…
In all honesty, I would like to rant about all of the inadequacies I saw at the hospital during his stay. I would like to lead a protest against wasteful medical spending. I would like to cuss out a couple of doctors who left us sitting in a hospital room for hours and hours and hours not knowing anything.
But, I wont. Husband is okay and that is all that matters. They are pretty sure his problem was what the diagnosis was. From what I gathered (from McSkeazy) it is when a cold virus (example) goes into your heart and gets inflamed leading to chest pain. That is my super basic and non-medical definition.
Instead of ranting, I would like to share my amusing hospital stories and maybe some more funny pictures… after the jump.
I have two favorite hospital stories, both involving people that appeared to be about 150 years old.
The first was with a women being wheeled out of her emergency room into a different room. She made sure to tell the nurse, “be careful with my shirt here, I don’t want my titties to come out.” Yeah that’s right… 150 years old, talking about her titties. It may have been Blanche Devereaux- but I didn’t get a good look.
Second was an older gentleman whose room was maliciously placed next to the coffee cart in the hallway. I was getting a cup of coffee for husband when the old man yelled to me, “Is that coffee? Can you get me some?”
Naturally, I looked at him and said, “ummm, I don’t know if I can.” Immediately a nurse was walking down the hall and gave me the “no way Jose” look. I told him, “Sorry, they won’t let me” and scurried back to another room. As I walked away the old man yelled, “Mother fuckers” in a voice that was (I’m sure) loud enough for anyone to hear.
If being old allows you to swear at strangers and talk about titties in public, then maybe people shouldn’t be so scared of getting older. Sounds pretty awesome to me.Tweet