Music Through the Pain

It started that Monday morning, August 8. The pain, I mean. I was working with Dr. W, and she had just come back to the office to tell me my patient was finished. I thanked her, stood up from my desk, and almost hit the floor. Out of nowhere, I was struck with a huge stabbing pain in the very pit of my stomach, pain so intense it took my breath away and left me wondering how I was going to function.

Somehow I sucked it up and finished with my patient, but the whole time I was in agony and knew I was not safe to care for and to make decisions for these precious patients. My next patient was ready to be seen, but I knew I couldn’t do it. I found my way back to my desk and Cheri caught sight of my face. "Gina, what’s wrong?" she asked me. "Cheri I have to go," I told her. "I am hurting so bad I can’t function." All I could think of was getting home, and my mind couldn’t process beyond that. Meanwhile, I was shutting down my computer and calling Chuck all at once.

I could sense the panic in his voice when I told him I was sick and needed for him to come get me. It was the first day of school, and I could only imagine what chaos he was dealing with, being pulled in a hundred different directions by teachers and staff. I only knew I was an hour away and couldn’t drive myself. I remember telling him I would be in the lobby of my building, but I have no recollection of how I got there.

Minutes later, Chuck called back saying that Summer was home and she and Tay would come get me. I curled up in misery on one of the hard faux leather couches in the lobby and prayed while the next hour passed more slowly than I can ever remember. There was a patient sitting in the lobby, waiting to be picked up by a family member after her neuro appointment. Spying the hot pink RN label on my nametag, she sat down next to me and began to pepper me with questions about every symptom, ache and illness she had ever had. When I was unable to respond to her, she just began talking louder and more insistently, as if perhaps I hadn’t heard her.

One of my coworkers walked through the lobby just then, on her way to lunch. Seeing my delimma, she intervened on my behalf, telling this patient that I was very ill and she would be happy to try to answer her questions. Suddenly, this patient decided she didn’t need any information as badly as she just needed to watch me like an animal in an exhibit. Hmmm…. a sick nurse; something she’d perhaps never seen before. I half expected her to poke me with a stick.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only about 45 minutes, Summer and Tay arrived. I had been curled up on the sofa and could barely walk as she led me to her car. She asked me if I was willing to go to the Emergency Department of our hospital, which was less than half a block away. Of course I was; I could not imagine dealing with this pain much longer, so after gently placing me in the front seat and belting me in, she and Tay drove me around the corner to the ED.

I collapsed into the nearest chair, while she registered me. I vaguely remember waiting in a room filled with pregnant women with round bellies, elderly people wearing oxygen, and a multitude of children. I held back the tears and prayed while we waited to be interviewed.
After waiting 40minutes, we were led to the next room only to be told that there would be a 1-2 hr wait to see a doctor. A middle-aged woman with abdominal pain is much lower on the list of priorities than someone who has been shot or stabbed, or someone who decided to ride his motorcycle with no helmet that day. We made the decision to drive back to our hometown, an hour away, and go to the Emergency Department there.

I remember very little of that ride. I remember praying and asking God to please relieve the pain; I remember Summer encouraging me and telling me we were almost there. I remember walking into another waiting room, this one also filled with people deemed much sicker than me; I remember saying I don’t think I can do this. But I could, and I did.

It was almost 430pm by the time we were finally called into the back and put in a room. Meanwhile, Chuck had arrived and he and Tay sat in the waiting room while Summer and I went to the back. Each time we encountered a new group of people I was asked the same questions over again. Summer became my advocate, my voice, my lifeline during those dark hours. Finally, I was allowed to have IV morphine and I have no words to describe the relief of how it felt to suddenly not be in agony anymore.

By 9:30 that night, I had been Xrayed, I had somehow downed 2 containers of chalky vanilla contrast had a CT scan done. I had labs drawn and been medicated for pain and nausea. They told me that nothing definitive showed up on any of my tests, but to come back if I got worse. We were all exhausted by then, and more than ready to get me comfortably bedded down at home.

Summer and Tay left shortly after 10pm, after m

aking me as comfortable as possible on my own soft couch, and putting my nausea medicine and "throw up pan" nearby. I drifted into a kind of surreal sleep for a few hours, only to wake up at 1:30 throwing up violently. I paced the floor and prayed until 3:30, thinking Chuck would be up by then to go to work. When he still wasn’t awake by 4am, I gently woke him and told him I was worse and needed to go back to the hospital. So another surreal trip through the dark and sleeping town; the pain had returned and I held onto Chuck’s voice like a lifeline.

The same staff was still on duty in the ED, and made a few half-hearted jokes about my getting lonely for them again. One of the nurses started an IV in my right arm while another one pushed a tube down my nose into my stomach, procedures I had done hundreds of times over the years. I gave up myself to the relief of the morphine once again, and vaguely remember someone telling me I was going to Xray.

There was a different ED doctor this time, who said he thought I had an obstruction in my small intestine, but he couldn’t be sure; they were going to admit me to the hospital and give my body a chance to heal itself. The rest of the morning was a blur, with just remnants of memories. I remember Summer leaning over the bed and smiling at me. I remember Chuck holding my hand, and I remember Sissy kissing my forehead. It was Tuesday morning, August 9 and I remember thinking the worst was over. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

To be continued…….