New Years itself was pleasantly spent with friends playing cards and Monopoly. The next day however, the small bump on my shoulder (over the trapezius muscle) was no longer the small irritated bump it had started out as three days ago. It was large and painful - very painful - and while I wanted to brush it off as an ingrown hair that had gotten too big for its britches, my mother, girlfriend, friend, and friend's grandmother all said to go to the ER. I didn't go that night. I took some pain medicine and pushed through. The next day, January 2nd, during a delightfully slushy snow storm, I managed to make it into Heritage Health.
The Physician's Assistant took one look at my 'near-to-the-neck' infection and sent me over to the ER with instructions for them to ultrasound the area and get me started on IV antibiotics. Apparently the ER doctor didn't get the memo. Instead of a sonogram, he came at me with a needle of Novocain and a scalpel. Several years ago a cyst ruptured in my ovary. The pain from that was the worst I had ever felt in my life. Until the scalpel. This man hurt me so badly that all I could do was sob and sob until my guts ached and my head felt ready to explode. And then... after he cut me and found no way to release the infection... then he ordered up the sonogram. During all of this he didn't even get me a damn pill for the pain. I don't think he even believed I was in pain at all - just some stupid girl bawling cause she isn't happy. Ugh. Anyway, the sonogram hurt, too, as he pressed down right onto the infection. He did it right there in the little waiting room - using small sonogram tools including the vaginal probe. Not sure why. Also, I forgot to mention, I was alone during all of this. They wouldn't let Mom or Hannah go back with me because I was in a room set up for three people and it would be too crowded. Only there was no one else there. It was just me and two other empty beds and a shit ton of free space. I was not amused.
Dr. B didn't even wipe off the gel from the sonogram, didn't even patch me up. He ordered me pain medicine and antibiotics that I could go pick up at the pharmacy. And he said if it doesn't get better in two days to come back. Big fucking surprise - it didn't get better. So back we went to the Emergency Room. This time I was taken to a room and given a proper ultrasound but only after being hooked up to an IV and given lovely, lovely pain medication. Afterward I was started on the IV antibiotics that had been called for two fucking days ago. No. Totally not bitter. And so off I went on my merry way. And back again and back again and back again - every twelve hours to wait the requisite hour through triage just to get a five minute dose of keflex shot into my IV. In the end I went to the ER a total of nine times, eight of those were for IV antibiotics. I saw a different doctor almost every time. The few I saw more than once were really sweet to me. But I'm not going to lie - I'm glad I won't be seeing any of them again any time soon. And now begins the battle with the business office and to show them how destitute I am and see if there's any way to write off some of the expenses. I can barely afford to pay Heritage Health at $25 a visit so I'm not sure how I'll handle the much larger amount that I've amassed in 2015. What a great start to the new year.
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