I spent several hours in the ER on Christmas Day last year.
The week leading up to Christmas, I felt sickness invading. By the end of the week, I could barely talk. All of my words came out in a whisper.
I tried to put on a happy face, but I was racked with pain. We went to Oklahoma on Christmas Eve Eve or the day before Christmas Eve.
I couldn’t sleep because it hurt so bad. Someone suggested I eat ginger.
Have you ever eaten raw ginger? Don’t.
If you’ve ever experienced heartburn or acid reflux, that’s what eating ginger feels like. It feels like you’re ingesting acid reflux.
I mixed it with lemon juice and salt. It didn’t help.
We arrived at our house late Christmas Eve and got the boys settled in for the night. I sat in the recliner and tried to relax. I thought my throat was going to either explode or implode. If it made it feel better, I was all for it.
At two o’clock that morning, I told Charity, “I’m going to the ER.”
“What?”
“I’m going to the ER. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Okay.” She’s such a good lady.
“But I don’t want to interrupt the boys’ Christmas morning. I want to be here to open presents.”
It was a long night.
The boys got up around 7:00 am, we opened presents, and we left the house around 10:00 am.
We arrived at the ER around 11:00 am. No, we didn’t go to a local ER. I wanted to be alive to see the New Year.
So we get there, I check in, and then get checked out by the doctor.
He said I had an ear infection, the likes of which he had never seen before.
He also said I had pharyngitis. Pharyngitis is a Latin word that means “vocal cords that have been sliced with a thousand paper cuts, then doused with gasoline and set on fire.”
The doctor prescribed amoxicillin and some high-powered nasal spray. Neither of these would be available on Christmas Day, seeing how the pharmacists want to spend Christmas Day with their families uninterrupted.
So he said they would give me a shot to hold me over until the pharmacies opened. And that’s all he told me.
The nurse came in, and behind her, she pulled a wagon that held the syringe. This thing looked like it should be on Cape Canaveral and launched by NASA.
“Wow, that’s a large needle.”
“Not really. I’ve seen bigger.”
“Where?”
“On our farm. I give our cows all their shots.”
“Oh. Well, which arm do you want to give the shot in?”
She looked at me like I was a pitiful puppy dog. I could see sympathy exuding from her eyes. And then I knew.
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“No!” I said a little louder.
“I’m sorry.”
“NO! Dear God!” I screamed, “PLEASE, NO, GOD, NO, NOOOOOO!”
She just looked at me with that look.
And so we commenced with the horrid shot. I’ll spare you the details, but for a split second, I forgot about the pharyngitis. It hurt. It was a pain in the hindquarters.
I’m not proud of the conversation that followed.
“I’m sorry, honey. These shots never feel good.”
“Don’t honey me!” I tried to give her my nastiest snarl. “What’s your name?”
“Kate.”
“I’m going to leave a bad review for this ER and mention you specifically!” I pointed my finger at her. “If I ever have to come back here, I’m requesting that you don’t ever come near me again. Where did you get your nursing degree? http://www.wannabe-a-nurse.com?”
“Well, I did my best.”
“Well, you’re the worst.”
“Okay.”
“Christmas. Bah! Humbug!”
I limped out of the ER, upset that they wouldn’t give me the wheelchair I had demanded. I tried to sit down in the car, but I could only sit on the side that didn’t hurt. I ended up sitting sideways on my hip. No joke.
About halfway home, I began to feel better. And I began to regret what I said to that precious nurse. In fact, I wanted to go back and hug her for giving me such a strong dosage. As it turns out, she was awesome.
Instead, I chose not to leave a bad review. I hope she didn’t give up on the nursing profession. Ya’ll help me pray for poor Kate.
Also, if you’ve never had pharyngitis, do whatever you can to avoid it.
To the medical professionals,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 