Have you ever watched an episode of House (or any other show like it) and thought to yourself "WTF dude (person suffering from some sort of ailment), clearly something is wrong with you, call the doctor". But they don't and they wake up in the hospital dying and then you think to yourself "What were they thinking? I would never do something like that, when you feel like something is wrong you go with that gut instinct and take care of it. Likemotherfuckingduh!" I always get that feeling. Well, with a side of "maybe I just feel like that because I already know for a fact that something is wrong." I gotta admit that initial "that person has a huge chunk of re in their tards" wins outs and I'm left with that feeling of thinking they are the dumbest people alive.
In fact I say that with great ease, because I am one of the dumbest people alive. Almost five years ago, after giving birth to Ryder, I found myself in horrible pain and I did not mention it to anyone. After a couple of days, I phoned my doctor's office (he was on vacation) and spoke with an on call doctor. At this point I knew something was wrong and told her of my dilemma. She mentioned "You just had a baby, that's just how it is" (sparing me the "duh" but definitely implying it) and told me it would pass. A couple of days later, I called my sister (Jessica) and asked her to come over because I felt like I was going to pass out and I didn't want to end up passing out and have Ryder be all alone. She showed up and was immediately alarmed at my condition. I was then running a 106 degree fever and looking like death showed up at my door and rubbed shit all over me.
Long story short it took a couple of doctor visits, a lot of persistence and another random on call doctor to determine that (indeed) something was wrong with me. The 2nd on call doctor came back into the room and said "Harmony, I need you to go straight to the hospital and there you are meeting with the head of surgery. He is going to take excellent care of you." Two surgeries later, I was hooked up to a bottle of morphine, with a 15 minute booster button.
I woke up during the first surgery and that alarmed everyone. But I felt great, I wasn't in any pain and that was an absolute first for the previous week. "Hey how's it going?" I asked coolly. They were finishing up, so I promised to not move around and to tell them if I felt any pain. Before the 2nd surgery I had a new anesthesiologist and he told me to not worry that I wouldn't be waking up this time around. I was telling him that I didn't mind the first time, but I woke up in the recovery room shortly after I started to tell him that.
My family swarmed the hospital. Mainly, Jessica and Melody, stayed with me. Every night, one of them was there. But I only remember bits and pieces. I was high as a kite and as long as someone was pushing my booster every fifteen minutes I didn't have a worry (pain) in the world. I'm thinking the guy that came up with the code on Lost had at some point in his life the same sort of thing, because once my mom forgot to push my button and I remember waking in the most God awful pain I've ever felt and it was made known "push the button or it's all over".
My family suffered through this period of time in my life, while I felt nothing. Well, I felt calm. There was, in fact, one point during my stay there that I had thought to myself that if something did happen to me that it would be okay. I got to see and hold Ryder, Austin was such a good loving boy and Ant and I were in a really good place. I knew that he would keep me alive in their hearts and that made me feel at peace. In the outside world, my Mom was fucking losing it, my sister's were trying to do it all and my husband was working his ass off trying to bring money in (at my request, just in case the insurance didn't cover any of my stay), while juggling a 6 y/o and a newborn.
10 days later I was released. 10 days! Is that nuts or what? I went from near death (at one point I remember waking up and seeing the doctor praying over me) to a viable human being in 10 days. It seems so short, but it felt like an eternity. Due to my surgery, I had to maintain my catheter and have a urine collection bag (that I lovingly named Larry). What? It was all the rage back then, don't judge. My doctor's quick fix to this unsightly bag was a pillow case, tucked into the waist of my pants. Which didn't look odd at all. At home, Larry followed me everywhere I went and as time went on everyone referred to my little piss bag as Larry.
Aside from the pain that I felt or the emotional drama that swept over my family, there are times when I look back on this little episode of my life and I can't help but smile. My stay in the hospital has effected my life in many ways. But all in all, it does not effect my initial feelings while watching House "That I would never be like that person practically dying and not calling the doctor". Even if I had already been that person, my initial gut feeling is that they are too stupid for life. Thankfully, the powers that be do not take us out based on IQ..or else I wouldn't get to judge those poor dumb bastards on TV.