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the problem of pain

Like many I am not a fan of pain. The whole idea of pain makes me uncomfortable partly because I don't like being in pain myself and partly because seeing others in pain makes me feel helpless. Everyone gets sick sometimes, but I find it difficult to write about my experiences because I want to find something funny or positive to put in each of my blogs, even the ones about difficult things, but I don't find much funny about pain. I have learned that it is best for me to attempt to process such things though, so I will do a brief recount of my last few weeks.

The trouble started in late May with a simple cold. This cold wasn't remarkable in any way it just happened to weaken my immune system enought to make me easy prey for a much stronger virus. My first symptoms from this stronger virus started near the end of the first week of June and included high fever, severe chills, a painful headache, weakness, and sensitivity to touch. This remained the same for a few days and I hoped that by the end of the weekend I would be well enough to enjoy my Birthday on the Monday. I woke up feeling tired and sore that day but managed to get dressed and go out to get my hair done with my sister (our present to each other) and even made it to dinner and a movie. I had a great time, but by the end of the night I was having a bit of trouble breathing and my pain had changed into muscle spasms throughout my body. I forced myself out of bed the next morning and went to see my doctor. When she walked into the room and asked me how I was doing I started crying as I recounted my painful symptoms. She immediately thought I may be suffering from German Measles based on my symptoms, but I assured her that all of my vaccinations were up to date. Exasperated along with me she sent me to the lab to be tested for as many things as she could think of. I made my way to the lab and a young woman walked in and proceeded to take blood. After a nauseating few minutes of unsuccesful blood draws she called someone else to come in. After this was done I cautiously proceeded to the bathroom where I spent the next little while throwing up. I somehow managed to drive home and where I quickly made my way to my bedroom and slept for six hours. I was so weak by this point I no longer cared to quench my thirst or nourish myself in anyway. The next day the pain in my head and neck increased and my nausea continued to intensify. By late that evening I was so ill that I begged my sister to get me to a hospital. I was taken by ambulance to the RGH Emergancy room where a very grouchy nurse managed to get me hooked up to an iv. She asked me to give her a pain level for my head from 1-10. I had never experienced such a painful headache so I told her that for me it was a 10, she laughed and told me to stop being a baby, my pain couldn't be that bad. This put me over the edge and I literally turned into a blubbering mess. I think she did actually feel bad after that because she attempted to be kinder. They gave me tylenol and gravol and then when they noticed I was still awake and tossing and turning in pain they gave me another anti-nauseant and morphine. I managed to fall asleep after that and woke up to a battery of tests, x-rays, ultrasounds, blood panels, etc. Everything came back fine except my white blood count which was low. They told me I have a bad virus and sent me home. Since my pain had diminished with the treatments and fluids this seemed like a good plan.

I went home Thursday afternoon assuming that as long as I took anti nauseants and pain relievers regularly I would be fine. I was wrong. The pain intensified and the nausea became more frequent and I was unable to keep anything down again including pain relievers. My Mom heard that I was getting worse and decided to fly out Friday night to take care of me. She arrived all excited to be my nurse and take care of me, but by the next morning it had gotten so much worse again that she called health link and they told her to call 911. So there I was in an ambulance again on my way to the hospital. This time they left me in a room by myself for hours while I moaned and groaned and finally called pain management to shut me up. They filled me up with more narcotics which managed to take the edge off the pain. Once they got my blood work again they arranged for me to get more x-rays and then put me in the only room with a door in emerg as my white blood cell count had lowered dangerously. People had to put on masks and gloves to visit me or check my status. I was very grateful for this room because it was a bit quieter and it was dark. By this point my head throbbed so badly and I was so sensitive to light that my eyes actually swelled up in an attempt to keep light out. After a long day of tests the doctor came in to say that I had a bad virus and walking pneumonia, but that they figured that I should be able to get better at home. My Mom had some harsh words with the doctor and it was decided that I could stay at the hospital under internal medicines care. That meant that I had to be willing to bear whatever tests they deemed necessary to diagnose me (yikes I've seen House before so this is where I started to get anxious). I decided that if I went home I would likely continue to get worse and end up back here again anyway, so I agreed to allow them to do what they must. A few hours later a woman came down and started looking me over and asking questions. After she was done her exam it was decided that the only test left that made sense was a spinal tap. It took them a few tries to get me to agree to it as I've always been afraid of that particular test, but I couldn't really say no. They pumped me full of anti-anxiety drugs and went to work tapping my spine for fluids. I remember it hurting very briefly as they hit the wrong spot, but other than that it wasn't really painful. The next day they came back to say that I was suffering from Viral Meningitis, which is why I had a migraine that wouldn't go away. This meant that there was really nothing they could do for me but keep me hydrated with iv fluids and keep me pumped full of narcotics so I could try to sleep it off. After a few more days it was decided that I should be able to manage at home.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way I'd like to note some small graces in the midst of this illness:

1) getting to spend quality time with my mom
2) receiving flowers and cards from loved ones
3) being treated very kindly by a nice EMS worker because I reminded him of his daughter
4) receiving a personal visit from my pastor to encourage and entertain me
5) being visited by a good friend
6) feeling the relief of starting to feel like myself again

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