A Trip to the ER...

About an hour after I finished the last post talking about how good I feel, things suddenly turned ugly...

My head began to ache, and it slowly developed into the worst pain I have ever experienced. The last time I felt pain that severe was in the Nashville airport just weeks before having the seizure that found my tumor.

As if this pain was not discomforting enough in itself, I began to vomit violently around 11:30; waking my wife. I told her I wanted to go to the hospital and she began gathering the kids and some basic provisions as if shifted into some kind of autopilot. By the time I crawled out through the bathroom door, there was already a set of fresh clothes laid-out, sleepy boys and my "tumor notebook" (containing all of my emergency contact and medical information) were gathered in the car, and both the engine and the cab were warm.

On that note, I'd like to thank my wife for all of her support while I've been going through this whole process. She is the model of grace and composure in emergencies, doting and supportive when I'm frightened or worried, the constant provider of comfort and nourishment, and the hard-ass that won't let me get away with pushing myself too hard or undertaking otherwise unhealthy tasks. I would not have survived my original surgery, nor could I handle my current struggle without her. Thank you, Yoko.

Even though it's not the closest hospital (about 1 hour @ the speed limit, ½ hour "flow of traffic"), I decided to go to the ER at the University of Michigan Hospital in case I got asked to stay. We arrived at 1:00 AM. I went to the check-in counter and, after giving my info and situation, was told to go through a door on my right. Expecting a waiting room , I was surprised to find my vitals being taken before I could even sit-down at the triage station. A few questions later, I was given a room and my boys were given warm blankets and an extra chair to try to get some sleep.

I spent about 4 hours total in the ER: Answering questions, getting a CT Scan, drawing blood*, checking various other vitals, and (most of all) waiting for film development and review. That didn't bother me because check-in had been quick and Myth Busters was on TV. Besides, they had a very severe burn victim that I could smell from down the hall and the lady next to me had been admitted for intoxication and was so unruly that they had to call security and the police to tie her to the bed. In short; they were busy.

* (I have aichmophobia - in my case, specific to needles - so 5 minutes of blood-draw always feels like an hour...)

After everything, there was nothing the doctors could find wrong with me. That, of course, was both relieving and disconcerting. In the end, I chalked it up to radiation therapy side-effects, and though I felt a little stupid for it turning out to be nothing, I'm glad I didn't just let it go.

We got home at about 5:00 AM and Yoko and the boys gave me peace enough to let me sleep 'til noon. Yesterday afternoon I felt so much better that I was able to go through with Taco Night (as had been planned since Friday) and even felt good enough to have 1 Corona Light with dinner.

I think I'll end here, and get to my Day 14 post.

Cautiously optimistic,
The Chungerpung