IAC Visits ER Miami
Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2015 9:56 pm
Had a lovely day with Jivermo (a Prince Amongst Scoundrels). But this post is about the poisonous little bug.
As I quaffed the last of the coffee in the cup, I felt a bizarre little chunk pass my lips. I decided to swallow it rather than spray all over carpet, customer, or kute kidlet.
A stab (felt like a pin going down sideways) caught my throat, and did not clear out. I ignored Jivermo and his wife's recommendation to down some Benadryl and escaped to the wild woods of Route 1 to die alone in Wednesday evening traffic. The pain was exactly at the tongue's root which is also the top of the epiglottis. At first, I thought I could manage it. At 24th Street, I thought my windpipe was in danger of getting swollen shut. It became excruciating to swallow. Finally, I could not swallow and the smoker's lung mucous was causing me to choke. Breathing became more difficult. Called my MD sister in Brookline MA who suggested anaphylaxis and get myself the emergency room NOW. Called and left a message with Jivermo that I might need to plan a disposition of Chloe.
Guy at the front desk was a security officer type.
"$it down, a doctor will be with you $hortly."
After fifteen minutes, I went up and said that I was losing my ability to breathe, it might be an allergic reaction, I just want a shot of epinephrine, and I will be on my way.
A nurse ushered me to the inspection bay and wired me up to the diagnostics.
133/82/79/99 said the numbers:
systolic/diastolic/rate/oxygen saturation.
Doctor came in and asked about drugs, medications, symptoms.
I was, at this point, beginning to wheeze and most definitely was drooling as my windpipe constricted and the mucous/saliva backed up.
Then I sat for an hour desperately avoiding the swallow reflex and diving for the sink to drool more..
Then I was told by the nurse that everything looks fine so swallow these pills.
"Ever been karate-chopped across your throat cartilage?" I asked her, that is what it feels like.
I could not swallow the pills. She chucked them in when she asked me to say "aaaaaaah".
Nurse took off while I coughed and hooted, and drooled and spit into the sink and played with the monitor. First I accidentally almost blew apart the blood pressure cuff. I did a lousy job of re-wrapping it over my arm and it separated at the velcro right in the middle of the test. It swelled up alarmingly. The blood pressure tester circuitry must have been worried too.
"This arm is awfully scrawny," thought the cuff, "and his blood pressure is non-existent."
Then I played with the blood pressure reading by applying tourniquet pressure to my arm above the cuff. I wanted to actually witness me flat-line on the monitor, then I wondered if a code blue might get thrown and turn on all those red warning lights, but nobody in the hospital was informed of my "heart failure" so I released my tourniquet and came back to life.
I cannot begin to describe this weird pain in my epiglottis, really, just like a chop to your throat cartilage. Imagine your swallow reflex jamming before it gets to the top and it kicks your gag reflex.
Got bored and tore off the various monitor fittings and walked out into the hall. The "administrator", a boy really, told me that he would send me the bill.
So . . . what do you think they will charge me for two hours of sitting on a table?
The doctor nabbed me in the hall and threatened me with death if I left.
"You are not out of the woods if this is an emergency."
"Oh, I knew it wasn't an emergency when you left and did not come back."
"We'd still like to observe you."
"You never did observe me why would you now?"
"We need you to si........."
" .......... sign the Against Medical Advice form?" Sure.
So here I am, against medical advice, still cannot swallow. I have better remedies here in the car than anything they gave me. I am gargling the gold oral rinse every time I need to swallow. Will let you know if I survive the night here, camped outside Mercy Hospital.
Colin
As I quaffed the last of the coffee in the cup, I felt a bizarre little chunk pass my lips. I decided to swallow it rather than spray all over carpet, customer, or kute kidlet.
A stab (felt like a pin going down sideways) caught my throat, and did not clear out. I ignored Jivermo and his wife's recommendation to down some Benadryl and escaped to the wild woods of Route 1 to die alone in Wednesday evening traffic. The pain was exactly at the tongue's root which is also the top of the epiglottis. At first, I thought I could manage it. At 24th Street, I thought my windpipe was in danger of getting swollen shut. It became excruciating to swallow. Finally, I could not swallow and the smoker's lung mucous was causing me to choke. Breathing became more difficult. Called my MD sister in Brookline MA who suggested anaphylaxis and get myself the emergency room NOW. Called and left a message with Jivermo that I might need to plan a disposition of Chloe.
Guy at the front desk was a security officer type.
"$it down, a doctor will be with you $hortly."
After fifteen minutes, I went up and said that I was losing my ability to breathe, it might be an allergic reaction, I just want a shot of epinephrine, and I will be on my way.
A nurse ushered me to the inspection bay and wired me up to the diagnostics.
133/82/79/99 said the numbers:
systolic/diastolic/rate/oxygen saturation.
Doctor came in and asked about drugs, medications, symptoms.
I was, at this point, beginning to wheeze and most definitely was drooling as my windpipe constricted and the mucous/saliva backed up.
Then I sat for an hour desperately avoiding the swallow reflex and diving for the sink to drool more..
Then I was told by the nurse that everything looks fine so swallow these pills.
"Ever been karate-chopped across your throat cartilage?" I asked her, that is what it feels like.
I could not swallow the pills. She chucked them in when she asked me to say "aaaaaaah".
Nurse took off while I coughed and hooted, and drooled and spit into the sink and played with the monitor. First I accidentally almost blew apart the blood pressure cuff. I did a lousy job of re-wrapping it over my arm and it separated at the velcro right in the middle of the test. It swelled up alarmingly. The blood pressure tester circuitry must have been worried too.
"This arm is awfully scrawny," thought the cuff, "and his blood pressure is non-existent."
Then I played with the blood pressure reading by applying tourniquet pressure to my arm above the cuff. I wanted to actually witness me flat-line on the monitor, then I wondered if a code blue might get thrown and turn on all those red warning lights, but nobody in the hospital was informed of my "heart failure" so I released my tourniquet and came back to life.
I cannot begin to describe this weird pain in my epiglottis, really, just like a chop to your throat cartilage. Imagine your swallow reflex jamming before it gets to the top and it kicks your gag reflex.
Got bored and tore off the various monitor fittings and walked out into the hall. The "administrator", a boy really, told me that he would send me the bill.
So . . . what do you think they will charge me for two hours of sitting on a table?
The doctor nabbed me in the hall and threatened me with death if I left.
"You are not out of the woods if this is an emergency."
"Oh, I knew it wasn't an emergency when you left and did not come back."
"We'd still like to observe you."
"You never did observe me why would you now?"
"We need you to si........."
" .......... sign the Against Medical Advice form?" Sure.
So here I am, against medical advice, still cannot swallow. I have better remedies here in the car than anything they gave me. I am gargling the gold oral rinse every time I need to swallow. Will let you know if I survive the night here, camped outside Mercy Hospital.
Colin