This is all second hand, since I don’t remember any of it.
Saturday, evidently, I was having some problems walking. Like falling out the door, running into the walls. And peeing everywhere. I don’t remember having a headache.
Mike decides to take me to the hospital in SLO. I do remember telling him that it has a fast ER.
Evidently, since I don’t remember much of this, they took my blood pressure — some thing like 900/500, stuck a port in my arm and filled me with drugs.
I remember needing to go to the bathroom and being told I couldn’t possibly navigate on my own.
Wowser…so, TMI–they managed.
Then I remember the doctor telling me that my husband was bailing me out.
THEN for some unknown reason, Mike sent me into some store for cigarettes. I came back with postcards. (I had thought about getting postcards earlier in the day). Where were his cigarettes? Beats me. I don’t smoke.
I’ve had to pump every single detail out of him, so reminder to myself–don’t depend on him for any health information. The dogs would be better.
” How was my blood pressure?” “I guess it was high.”
“What did they give me?” “I don;t know…something in your arm. You know. Whatever you usually get.”
“Did I have a drip?” “I don’t know.”
“Did they hang a bag?” “I don’t know.”
Where in the hell were you? Having a cigarette? Having some coffee? having some fricking CANDY?
When he was in the hospital with a stroke for TEN DAYS, I knew every little detail of his hospitalized life.
Men are useless. He did say I took some pills right before I started running into walls. (They are my six a day pills for my head. Nothing useful.)
So he thought, you know, maybe I took something. OMG..if I thought somebody maybe took something I would mention it at the hospital.
Turn my handbag upside down. But of course, he didn’t do that. (Not that it would have done any good, since there is lipstick and migraine pills in there. A checkbook. An address book. Nothing fancy like coke or anything that would actually make me run into walls.) Men are almost a waste of oxygen. They are good for heavy stuff and that is about it. Ask them to TELL you anything? You would do better talking to the dogs.
I did get a note from the doctor for two days off…..and I’m supposed to go in tomorrow. I talked to my sister the nurse and she thinks maybe I did have a stroke. They can tell if you had a heart attack with a blood test but not a stroke. I did have a blood test (I saw the bandaid.)
My head hurts NOW. So I think maybe I am going to get some oxygen…if I can lift it out of the car.
If I can find the car.
Back from the oxygen..my head hurts worse than ever. You know, I think having a stroke is really a viable option. I didn’t hurt at all yesterday and I hurt like hell right now. I have some abortive stuff to take….so I’ll try them. Because my head is about a 12 on a scale of 10. I think it is going to blow up this time for sure.
I spent yesterday in San Francisco with my geniius headache doctor. Looked over the paperwork from the hospital.
He said that they probably DID think I had a stroke because my kind of headaches are .0001% of headaches and my particular headache is something like .0001% of those. So it was just an incredible scary headache. The spiking bloodpressure scared him, since I COULD have a stroke just from that, so the ER was a good idea.
And it was the drugs they gave me that erased my memorey–although memory and pain are located in the same part of your brain. It’s so you don;t remember how bad things hurt….because if I could actaully remember how bad it was, I’d kill myself.
They don’t call them suicide headaches for nothing.
But the good news was that OTHER THAN MY HEAD, I am as healthy as a 30 year old.
And usually by 60, the headaches just stop.
So I either have 4 more years of this OR I have 30 years more of this.
4 I can do.