This was originally written last Tuesday morning.  I haven't felt like dealing with it until now.

 The adventures never seem to end in the Smith household.

Let me recap a few things for you.  Our van, the one we bought in April?  Died in June. (Shit happens, we didn't pay much for it, it got Tony through the end of that semester, that's what was important.) Tony's been gone, while we were without a vehicle.  We rented a car twice to see one another and I went and picked him up last Thursday.

We spent about 1.5 months living apart and I did not like it.  Neither did he.  Now we're back as one happy squishy couple who are attached at the hips.  Of course, he is leaving again tomorrow for a couple of days, but he'll be back quickly this time.

He'll be back in our new (to us) van.  It's a newer van, with lots of miles, but the man who owned it kept every record of everything ever done to the van.  He was fastidious about oil changes, tuneups, etc.  Hopefully this one will last us quit a while as we are now officially without a savings account.

Now, more recent news.  Last night we went to see our nephew for his 11th birthday (how in the hell he's 11 already is beyond me, he should be like 5 and tiny, but noooo, he has to grow up on us.)  We shared his birthday dinner with him, watched him open presents, saw a good movie. 

Good evening, actually a great evening.  Except I've been feeling like shit the past few days.  I've had a hard time drawing more than a shallow breath and my chest just fucking hurts.  As the night wore on, I felt worse and worse.

By the time we got back in the van, the pain was excruciating and I was breathing fast and shallow.  Off to the emergency room of the closest hospital (which even though the town my in-laws live in is more podunk than our town has a closer hospital.)  

When you think ER, you think big, busy, nurses running to and fro, right?  Ha.  We get in there, the triage me immediately, register me, and I'm back in a bed.

There are no other patients.  Not a single one.  They do vitals, put the pulse ox on my finger, my oxygen levels are fine.  Which is a good thing.  Then I hear the nurse on the phone with the doctor.

Okay, I do an ABG.  Fuck.  I know what that is.  An arterial blood gas.  I know those hurt like the fucking devil.  I hate them with a passion. And the last nurse that took one of those on me?  I wanted to punch her.  The time before that?  I actually threatened the man drawing blood out of my artery.  

That was when I was having a blood patch (where they take blood from you and put it into your spine to stop a spinal fluid leak.)  I was in severe pain from my back and hip and was at the point in my injury recovery where I could not bend.  In fact, if you even mentioned bending I cried.

Well during a blood patch you have to bend.  They're going into your spinal column and you have to stretch your back out.  Normally they make you sit up and bend forward (like when they do an epidural.)  Not only did I have the serious back and hip issues, but I had a spinal headache.

And let me tell you, spinal headaches are the worst pain known to man.  I have had migraines my entire life.  When I was 5 years old, I can remember my Daddy sitting beside me, while I lay in bed, sobbing in pain, a cold cloth on my head, the lights out, telling me he was going to send my headache to the moon.  Like I said, I know pain headaches.

This spinal headache was so bad that if I could have found a way to kill myself I would have.  I was begging God to either take the pain away or let me die.  Tony took me by car and ambulance to the hospital several times before they decided to admit me.  The last time was by car, he helped me stagger in, begged them for a stretcher as sitting up makes the pain worse.

They told him I had to wait and put me in the waiting room.  Within a minute or so of this, the pain was so overwhelming that I vomited everywhere.  I tried to stand up to get away from all the other people in the waiting area and couldn't.

I slumped in the chair, threw up, and wouldn't you know it?  There was a stretcher and multiple nurses there within a minute.  Next time, they'll realize that when someone's spouse is begging for a stretcher, that person probably really fucking needs it.

Now, as I was saying, when they were doing the blood patch, I was in an operating room with multiple people.  The doctor who was willing to do the patch while I was laying down, nurses out the ass, people everywhere.

As they had to force my body to bend and then hold me that way.  I was incapable of bending and there was no way I could be still enough on my own to not end up with a needle through my spinal cord.

So, here we are, multiple people holding me down, a doctor prepping my back for the patch, and a male nurse at the ready to draw my blood for the patch.

He stuck my arm once, twice, three times.  Not a drop of blood.  My veins were flattening out on him.  Try number four, five and six.  By now, I'm hurting so bad I'm starting to shake.

The doctor tells him to get it from the artery.  And he does.  Hard.

Even as bad as I'm hurting, I looked at him and told this poor nurse that I was going to kick him.  He laughed "They're holding your legs down, you can't kick me."

Yeah, he was right, but had I had a free limb, I would have decked him.

Back to last night.  The nurse comes in, pulls out all her stuff, tells me what she's about to do.  I grab Tony's hand.

And she sticks me.  Now, it hurts, but nowhere near as bad as the last two times.  See I should have hit those other nurses.  Or at least the one who did the arterial blood gas prior to this one.  She should not have been allowed a qtip near a patient rather yet any damn thing else.
 

The run that and some other blood work, an EKG, do chest xrays, all that fun kind of stuff.  And boom I have Costochondritis.  It's an inflammation of the cartilage that joins the ribs to the breast bone.  It hurts, it's annoying but it's not that big of a deal.  It can clear up in as little or a week or last over a year.

We're hoping for the week.  For now, I'm on Lortab to knock back the pain of it.  They did give me a Toradol shot in my poor arm, but that didn't do squat for me.  (that's 3 holes in my left arm in one night.)  I have 2 painkillers (Toradol and Ultram) which do nothing for me.  

I'm off to get some rest now, it's been a long night, my chest is still hurting and I'm going to lie down.  Sorry for the ramble, but that is why this was originally named Suzyramble, I have a big mouth and loose fingers.

Smile,

Suzy Smith