Hospitalization 101

Well, it started around 7:00 pm after I had arrived home from my family reunion. Another gallbladder attack. I worried with this one more than the others. Mostly because the last one which was only a week earlier had been the worst so far. My grandmother had begged me to go to the Doctor then but i refused, well because I am like the other 46.3 million Americans without health insurance. I couldn't afford a trip to the doctor which would include xrays ultra sounds, medication and they would only send me home. But this time there was a unrelenting urgency in the pit of my stomach. I called my grandmother, the same one wanting me to go to the doctor. She only promised to pray for me, (family was in) I called my other grandmother, who is busy taking care of the rest of my family because they are unable to get off their lazy butts and stumble out of their drugged based comas to wipe their owns bums. But what other choice did I have? The kids father agreed he would care for the kids until I came back, and he seemed more worried for me than anything. I was touched, I have loved him after all. I made the call, she didn't even hesitate, she was here within 15 min and we were on our way to KDMC.
Apon arrival I was ushered into the Triage and asked the typical questions my name, address, what was wrong with me ect.  Then i was taken to a room and awaited for the nurse. I was given sound advice and paperwork to fill out to help with the on coming of bills. I was given a huge array of blood test and had to give a urine test. Then I was taken to ultra sound. The entire time in pain, no other option i assumed, at one point during the ultra sound I wanted to cry from the constant pressure she had to apply to get the images that would be needed to diagnose me. Afterward I was taken back to the ER room and told I did indeed have gallstones and that a doctor wanted to see me asap after the holiday. I was to call in Tuesday and see him on Wednesday. Then I was sent home with a script for pain killers that have in the past made me sick and an antibiotic. It would be Sunday and no way for me to fill them, I prepared myself to suffer it out as I had all the others.
Fast forward Sunday morning, the vomiting has began, I threw up everything I had ate the day before and was now at the bile yellow bitterness of stomach acids. I was weak and couldn't Even get the children to get along. I wasn't even strong enough to scold them for fighting. I went and laid in the tub of hot water hoping it would somehow soothe the pain some as it had the others. No such luck, but I continued to try. Like i said I was seriously in pain. I could barely stand at this point, I was in the bed, wrapped in my towel from the previous stint in the tub when I asked Natalie to call her grandmother to come get her. It was then I managed to dress myself and lay once again motionless on the bed and wait for another vomiting sure to take me to the bathroom. Just before she arrived it hit me and as I walked out the door to my bed room I felt something inside me shift and the worst pain in my life hit me. After vomiting in the sink and crawling back into bed, i did the only thing left for someone in my state. I moaned and cried. Pathetic I know but there was nothing left for me to do. My grandmother showed up and got the kids, confident she could get my other grandmother to come take me to the hospital. No such luck, my uncle was preaching that morning and my Aunt was singing, she didint' want to miss that. But she was so kind as to bring me a can of coke and some food. Who does that really? Someone is suffering from gallstones, vomiting and you bring them food. I was on the couch when my sister Sara showed up with it. She just left it on the coffee table and left.
About fifteen minutes later my other sister Frances, showed up and she told me I was going back  to the hospital. Keep in mind, I had been in and out of the tub all morning, hadn't washed my hair since Saturday morning, and had been sweating from a fever. I hadn't looked in the mirror I just knew if I looked like I felt it wasn't good. I threw up once more, and left just like that. I could feel how matted my hair was, i wasn't worried tho, I only wanted to get theses stones out if it meant getting rid of the pain.
When we got to the ER, I had to wait this time, not long tho, but i had to wait. When I went into the Triage, I wasn't treated as kindly as before in fact, I couldn't hear half the things she said to me and was a little incoherent because of the pain. The nurse snapped at me and looked at me like I was trash, like I was stoned or on drugs. I was offended and hurt, not to mention ignored because of her horrible problem with the copier/ printer. I don't remember anything she said to me or what she snapped at me about, but I do remember her talking through my entire entrance about the printer to the maintenance man. When we were finally taken to the back I informed the nurse there that I had been there the previous night and I was in pain and that I might throw up again. When the Doctor finally came in she was surprised I was sent home and promised me we would get this taken care of... Soon after that I was given an IV of fluids and a pain killer. Something that finally took the pain away. I don't remember what it was just that it was in the morphine family. I think I cried when I told her thank you.