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A trip to the ER (don't worry, I'm OK [more or less])
12 years ago
Last night I ran my hand across the left side of my face and noticed a mildly painful swelling underneath the surface. Like most adults (I imagine), I still get the occasional pimple, and at the time, I thought that that was probably what this was, just an unusually large one that hadn't worked its way to the surface of the skin yet. As of this morning, it was apparent that that was not the case. The swelling had increased, and so had the pain. My mom's a nurse, so when I saw her I asked her about it, hoping that she'd say, "I'm sure it's nothing, give it a day or two." Instead, with almost no hesitation, she said, "I think you should go to the emergency room."
Emergency room? Really? (This is what I imagine you're saying.) I thought she might be overreacting, but she's not really prone to that. There definitely was something unusual going on, and I don't really have a primary doctor (haven't been to one in years), so it was my best chance to get in and see someone quickly. So with a lot of mixed feelings, I went to the ER, almost hoping that there'd be something wrong with me, so that I wouldn't forever be known at Melrose-Wakefield Hospital as "the guy who came in to the ER for a zit".
They asked me a bunch of questions. I told them that on a scale of 1-10, the pain was only a 1. Really, 2 or 3 may have been more accurate, but thanks to all of my dental problems of the past (including going days on end with toothache pains so horrible that I literally thought I might lose my mind), my pain threshold is pretty high. Anyway, I wasn't in pain as much as I was just scared, because something I'd never experienced before was happening to me, and I didn't know what it was.
Everyone there was really nice, nobody made me feel stupid for coming in (it probably helped that it seemed like it was a fairly slow day in the ER). The doctor who saw me said that he didn't think it was a situation that required "cutting your face open" and prescribed some antibiotics, which I have to take for a couple of weeks (although I hope to God it doesn't take that long for the swelling to go down).
The worst part of it all (except for the worrying) was answering all the questions they asked me. Most of the info they had on me was 10-15 years old. I had to tell them that I was still living with my mom, that I didn't have a job anymore, that I didn't have insurance anymore, all that good stuff. It shone a light on just how much my life, if you can call it that, has fallen apart. And if I haven't figured out how to fix any of it by now, what chance is there that I'm going to anytime soon? Or ever?
So, yeah. That's going on. But hopefully my beautiful face will be OK.
Emergency room? Really? (This is what I imagine you're saying.) I thought she might be overreacting, but she's not really prone to that. There definitely was something unusual going on, and I don't really have a primary doctor (haven't been to one in years), so it was my best chance to get in and see someone quickly. So with a lot of mixed feelings, I went to the ER, almost hoping that there'd be something wrong with me, so that I wouldn't forever be known at Melrose-Wakefield Hospital as "the guy who came in to the ER for a zit".
They asked me a bunch of questions. I told them that on a scale of 1-10, the pain was only a 1. Really, 2 or 3 may have been more accurate, but thanks to all of my dental problems of the past (including going days on end with toothache pains so horrible that I literally thought I might lose my mind), my pain threshold is pretty high. Anyway, I wasn't in pain as much as I was just scared, because something I'd never experienced before was happening to me, and I didn't know what it was.
Everyone there was really nice, nobody made me feel stupid for coming in (it probably helped that it seemed like it was a fairly slow day in the ER). The doctor who saw me said that he didn't think it was a situation that required "cutting your face open" and prescribed some antibiotics, which I have to take for a couple of weeks (although I hope to God it doesn't take that long for the swelling to go down).
The worst part of it all (except for the worrying) was answering all the questions they asked me. Most of the info they had on me was 10-15 years old. I had to tell them that I was still living with my mom, that I didn't have a job anymore, that I didn't have insurance anymore, all that good stuff. It shone a light on just how much my life, if you can call it that, has fallen apart. And if I haven't figured out how to fix any of it by now, what chance is there that I'm going to anytime soon? Or ever?
So, yeah. That's going on. But hopefully my beautiful face will be OK.
I hope the antibiotics fix you up in short order.
Thanks for your well-wishes. :)
That, and I had to Google to make sure I was referring to the nutty character and not the leader.
Also, you are near boston right? or am I getting you mixed up with someone else? If yes, lets chat. I have an idea about the job situation that you might be interested in.