I Think He Was Trying to Kill Me.

Want to see my enormously expensive new piece of jewelry?

I will give you a hint:  It's not the ring.

 

Hospital bracelet.

Here's the story:

Liam and I had been sick with bad colds last week.  Just colds, nothing more.  At about 11:30 on Sunday night, I woke up absolutely freezing to death.  Mike brought me another comforter and a heating pad.  He took my temperature, and it was only a degree or so higher than normal.  So, I burrowed further down in my blankets.  But nothing helped.  I just got colder and colder.  I kept telling Mike that I was worried and was not sure what was happening to me.  He kept saying, "You're fine."  Finally, my neck and head got beyond hot.  I tried to uncover, but the rest of my body was still freezing!  I had Mike take my temperature again.

105* F...I believe that is 40.5* C.

I started to freak out a little bit.  I told Mike that I should probably go to the hospital.  He said no, that I would be fine for a few more degrees.  I took some tylenol to try to bring my fever down.  (Mike is working nights.  He was home, but not in bed.  He promised he would continue to check on me.  I was terrified that I was going to slip into a coma, and Mike wouldn't notice.)

Mike left the room.  I was still afraid, so I called my mommy!  I felt bad waking her up.  It was about 2am then, but that's what mommies are for, right?  I told her my temperature, and she replied with, "Oh, my gosh, Katie!"  Based on that reaction, I called for Mike again and told him to call the Ask-A-Nurse hotline to see if I should go to the hospital or not.  He begrudgingly agreed to call. 

Then I started to get dizzy, even while lying down.  I felt like I was going to pass out.  I staggered out into the living room.  Mike told me he had been put on hold.  I informed him that I did not care what the Ask-A-Nurse people said, I needed to go to the hospital!  I then decided to lay on the ground before I did pass out.  I told Mike to start the car and then go get Liam so we could go.  I can't remember what Mike said, but it was something that would have gone together with an eye roll.  He then said he needed to go to the bathroom.  (In his defense, he has an intestinal condition, and if he has to go, he has to go.) 

The longer I laid on the floor, the dizzier I felt.  I tried propping my feet up.  That briefly helped.  Then my limbs started to go numb.  Clearly, all of my blood was being redirected to my vital organs...you know, like going into shock?  I really thought I was going to pass out.  Mike was still in the bathroom.  I knew that by the time he got out, started the car, and got Liam, I would probably be unconscious, or at least unable to get myself to the car.

I used my last bit of strength to turn my body so my torso was back in our bedroom, and I reached up to the phone cradle.  Thankfully, the phone was there.  It's always a toss-up at our house.  I dialled 911 and told them I needed an ambulance.  The dispatcher knew who I was, and he asked if I wanted him to notify the police shift commander.  I did not.  I told him that I would call in later, but then it occurred to me as my arms got more and more numb that there may really not be a "later."  The dispatcher assured me that the ambulance was on its way.

Mike had come out by then, and I told him I had called 911 for an ambulance.  He said, "No, I already started the car."  I just thought, "ARE YOU SERIOUS??  I am lying on the living room floor, going into shock from a fever that you told me was fine!  I'm scared enough that I called an ambulance, and you're still going to tell me it's not that bad?" 

As I waited for the ambulance, I had several thoughts bouncing through my head.  I wondered if they would give me IV's.  I wondered if I would die in the ambulance or at the hospital.  I tried to remember how much life insurance I had.  I felt bad because I imagined that after I was gone, Mike would feel guilty for not helping me more.  I did not want to leave Liam.

The dispatcher told me that the ambulance was outside, and he asked if the door was open.  It wasn't.  I told Mike to open the door, then go take care of Liam, who had woken up and started to cry.  When I said it, I really meant for him to do it IN THAT ORDER.  He took off up the stairs to Liam's room instead.  I screamed for him to get back downstairs and open the door for the medics.  He refused!  Eventually, he came back downstairs in time to find the medics on the porch.

The medics helped me up and loaded me onto the gurny.  I started to get feeling back in my limbs.  Then I started to feel stupid.  Maybe I wasn't dying after all.  I thought about declining the ambulance ride, but I still didn't know what was wrong.  If something started going wrong on the way to the hospital, I would rather be in an ambulance than in my car...with Mike.

After all was said and done, I had been tested and x-rayed.  The docter believed I may have pneumonia in my right lung.  He thought the high fever was a side-effect of the pneumonia.  The dizziness and other symptoms were, in turn, side-effects of the high fever.  They gave me more medicine, and after a few hours, I got to go home.    

Mike later explained to me that he had not wanted to open the door because he did not see the ambulance outside.  He didn't want me to be on the floor with the door open if we were still going to be waiting for a long time.  Whatever!

So, I feel pretty stupid for calling an ambulance when everything turned out fine.  Especially since the fire department always responds with the medics, and I knew most of the firemen and one of the medics...I go to calls with them all the time.  But, without hindsight, and if I had those same symptoms, (and without better assistance from Mike), I would call 911 again.  I'm just holding my breath now, waiting for the bill!

What do you think?  Stupid, expensive overreaction?  Or legitimate, freaked-out response?

Comments

[Uncle Mice]

You did exactly the right thing. You are too valuable a commodity to risk. Hope you're feeling better now. Love you! Uncle Mice

[Kelly]

This concerns me on a number of levels. You totally did the right thing by calling. That's what they're there for, and I'm pretty sure you'd tell anybody in the same circumstance to do the same thing.

I hope you are recovering, and I really hope that you are being well taken care of. Love you mucho!

[Marie]

I responded to this. Ages ago. What happened to my comment? Drat. Well, it was witty and heartfelt, and can't be duplicated, so I'm afraid it is a loss to the blogging world.

But I will say, that calling 911 was not an over reaction. I think that if you are literally on the floor and fearing for your life, it is time to pick up the phone.