Experience at the E.R

When it rains, it pours right? I guess. I’ve now been to the E.R twice in 6 months. Before this last September, I hadn’t been to the E.R in over 4 years. I’m poor, so I don’t have a regular dr. I can afford to go to. Unfortunately, this means my medical care is dictated by the severity of the condition. If it’s severe enough, I go to the E.R.; otherwise, I just wait it out and hope it gets better. It didn’t get better.

It started with a cough, not severe just annoying. Within days, I was suffering from sleep deprivation because I couldn’t sleep more then a few minutes without going into a violent coughing fit. It then got worse. The coughing became so severe I lost my breath long enough, while writing at my desk that I temporarily passed out and fell off my chair. Did the thought of going to a doctor cross my mind then…NO. Instead...Gee, that sucked, hope I get over this soon.

Next, I began vomiting from the sheer force of coughing. Then thought about the Dr....Mmmm…I’ll give it another week, and if it doesn’t get better I’ll go to the E.R. Ha-ha, a week progresses, during which breathing becomes near impossible and laryngitis has become an extreme annoyance. Then do I go to the E.R? Yes!

Why did I wait for it to get so bad? Well, there are at least 400 reasons. That’s right, my weight. What is a trip to the E.R like for a 400+ girl? Heh.

After getting the wrist band and checking in, it’s directly to the nurse’s station for vitals. I tell the nurse what’s wrong. “I’ve been coughing for two weeks, now I’ve lost my voice and can’t breathe.” The nurse looks at me like, well of course you can’t breathe, your fat! I recognize the look and in a whispered rasp explain “I can’t breathe as well as I normally do.” Of course with this statement, she assumes I’m saying I normally can’t breath well, but now I really can’t breath well. :::Sigh::: No use in explaining yes, I’m fat, but I walk everywhere, and though I might become short of breath faster then fit people…I can walk a long time at an even pace before becoming short of breath. She presses her lips together, and says “yep, right in her and Mr. Nurse so and so well take your vitals.”

Mr. Nurse, heads directly to the scale, and smiles. I haven’t been weighed for 3 years, I have no idea how bad it is, only that my scale that weighs up to 420 pounds won’t do the job anymore. Nervous and ashamed, I make a joke/comment trying to prepare Mr. Nurse for the numbers about to appear on his digital scale. He politely says, this scale can handle anything. Oook.

It takes a good 15 seconds for the scale to process my weight…is that normal? And then it appears! It’s worse then I thought, but not by much. Even so, my vision narrows to those 3 little red numbers, all the background noise disappears and I’m in my own little world of mortification. I’m too shocked to continue being embarrassed.

You know those new “I’m so obese” shows, seemingly becoming more popular over the last few years. The ones where the people are bed ridden, have black scary ankles and have to have other people bath them? I’m fatter then some of them!

Curious yet?

445 pounds. That’s right, just 50 pounds from 500, ¼ of a ton. Ouch…just typing that stings.

Well, Mr. Nurse changes after he writes down the number. He becomes colder, quieter…less nice. He takes my blood pressure, I take my arm out of my coat for him. His eyes get huge and he just looks at me like “what are you doing?” I’m annoyed, and as he’s standing there with his blood pressure strap staring at me, I wave my arm at him “ok”. He shakes himself out of it, and puts it around my arm. I guess he was afraid of what he was going to see. Idiot.

He measures my BMI as 64..IDIOT. I know it’s more then that. He says you’re done, and I walk out of the nurse’s station. To be greeted by the x-ray technician. He says follow me. I smile. (I’m trying to keep from talking…it hurts) But half way there, I have to explain, while gagging for breath that…I CANT BREATH!

First of all I am fat, I’m sure he noticed. Hehe. So keeping up with his speed walking to begin with, would have been cause for heavy breathing…but I could have done it under normal circumstances! I just would have to have a few minutes at the destination to catch my breath. But at the moment…I truly can’t freaking breath! That’s why I’m hear. That is why you are taking an x-ray of my chest. IDIOT!

We get there, we walk in the room he says “Are you wearing a bra”. Hehehe…I think to myself, I’ve never done this, and I don’t know if that is a normal question…but I’m going to say it is. He gives me a gown, and leaves. 3 minutes later I give up on getting it tied up, everything hurts from the coughing. If the tie was in the middle of the back I could have done it (I’m strangely really flexible for a fat person.), but not to the side. What the hell it’s just my back he’ll be seeing.

He gets back in, and ties it up for me. Kind of embarassing. Takes the x-rays, leaves me alone for 5 minutes to get my clothes back on. Leads me out. I still have the damned gown in my hands, I give it to him. He instantly wants to give it back. Hehehe. That’s right Mr. X-ray technician, it has :::gasp::: fat person sweat on it! LOL! He really shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean take away the fact I’m fat, if you speed march a person who is sick, has a fever and can’t breath deep into the bowels of the hospital without thought to their present condition…you think they are going to end the hellish jaunt as unsweaty as they began it? Ok…now add the 400 pounds into the equation. Yeah…he shouldn’t have been surprised.

He leads me back to the waiting room. I was kind of mortified, through this whole process, and am only just now finding the humor in it. 5 minutes later, he’s back to take me to a room to see the doctor.

So now, I commence waiting. Hacking, wheezing, trying to find air, I wonder what would happen if I passed out and fell off the bed. That little speed jaunt the x-ray tech took me on, really had a nasty effect. I’ve been coughing worse, and breathing worse every sense.

Finally, the Dr. came in, he was nice and professional. Kind of dismissive though, which embarrassed me because I’m so skittish about going to the doctor anyway. I’m terrified of being labeled a hypochondriac. Anyhow, he orders a breath treatment, a few pills and the prescribes me 3 prescriptions to keep me breathing better, and one for coughing. The diagnosis…asthmatic bronchitis, laryngitis and a moderate case of middle ear infection.

When I was give the go ahead to leave, I could breath again and I hit that glossy, cold hospital floor at a fast trot, and only sped up as I saw the exit doors. I felt a since of relief as I stepped into the cold, misty night air.

Overall, the whole experience was uncomfortable, embarrassing and at times…just painful. Not as bad as some E.R visits I’ve had, but…just not something I want to do any time soon again.

Being Fat and the Immune System?

Well, I'm still sick.

Everyday for the past 2 weeks I've gone to bed expecting to wake up feeling better! Half of that time I woke up feeling worse, and the other half nothing changed:( I've never been sickly, this is getting ridiculous! I just want to be able to get up and get things done!

I woke up today and couldn't talk! When I try to, it comes out lower then a whisper. If I try to whisper, I can talk louder.

My 85 year old grandmother got the same flu! But she hasn't coughed as bad, and has been coming out of it for about a week now. My younger sister had 2 or 3 bad days, and is up and running today.

But me I've been down with this sickness for over two weeks now. And I'm just now beginning to feel good enough, that staying put is beginning to drive me nutty. That said, I still cough constantly, I've got laryngitis and I'm still so congested that doing anything too strenuous completely drains me and causes me not to be able to breath! Yes, yes...that is a symptom of obesity too. But things I can do without breathing heavy before I got sick are now causing me to gasp.

So is it true? Is my immune system sunk by 300+ pounds fat? Am I more vulnerable to disease and viruses right now than my 85 year old grandmother?

How does this make me feel? Sad. Angry. Ashamed.

I'm going to bed.

Is Taking a Bath at 400+ an Option?

Early this morning, somewhere between the solitary hours of 4am and 6am I decided to take a shower. Showers…mmmm…. hot water in general just hits the spot and soothes me when I am sick.. I’ve had the flu near two weeks. I’m going on 3 nights without sleep now due to severe coughing fits. This morning, after hours of battling for a few hours of sleep, I surrendered and got up. Honestly, a little cough isn’t that big of deal, but when it turns into an uncontrolled wheezing, dry, breath taking, gagging, hacking thing…it becomes a problem. Especially where sleep is concerned! I’m SO TIRED!

Well, getting to the point, I’m awake too early, because I never went to sleep and I’m seeking some kind of relief in the form of a nice hot shower.

So I’m in the shower. It feels good. I close my eyes, lean against the shower wall, and breath deep. A minute later, I realize I’m not coughing as much or as violently! Mmmm…the water feels so nice and comforting. Wonder if I could….

Without thinking any further, I plug the tub and begin kneeling in the bathtub. I’m taking a bath! I think, I hope.

But at 400+ pounds, taking a bath is easier said then done. There are just some logistics that come in to play. I haven’t tried to take a bath in over 2 years and 100+ pounds ago. Mmmm…After 5 minutes of splashing around trying to get down in the bathtub without breaking a limb, and a few moments of sheer panic later…I’m down.

Once I’m setting in the bathtub I realize just how spacially challenged I was. There wasn’t enough room left in the bathtub to maneuver at all. I couldn’t stretch to the end of the tub to turn the hot water back on, so I was stuck with a few inches of luke warm water. I did think about getting up on my knees to turn the hot water back on, but then I’d have to get down again…and OH SHIT….could I get onto my knees? Could I get out?

I began day dreaming about the coming attraction of yelling for help, and then promptly began convincing myself that I could just stay in the bathtub until I lost enough weight from starvation to get myself out! I mean, I had enough water. Well, I discovered that by rolling over on my stomach, I could then get my knees under me and left myself up. Not that hard at all, but it took some experimenting to find the solution, during which I’m sure my impersonation of a beached whale, was 100% authentic.

Will I try to take another bath any time soon? HA HA HA! Baths are a luxury not reserved for 400+ pound people.