Chapter 5

Saturday morning. I have to pee. I look around me in disgust. Stupid bed. Snitch. I buzz the nurse. It’s a new nurse. I instantly dislike her. Feelings aside, I let her help me.

Where’s Dave? Where’s my Starbucks order? No I am not interested in a hospital menu. My husband is coming.

I look at my phone. There is a text from Dave. My sister is coming at 9 am to watch the kids. Uh-oh. She won’t be there before 10.

A physician’s assistant from neurology comes in. She’s nice. There is talk of getting me an EEG (looks at electrical activity in brain). She says neurologist will come in later.

I look at the clock. Hmmm. Where is Dave? Where is my Starbucks order? No thank you, I’m not interested in the hospital menu. My husband is coming. Fine pushy nurse lady, I’ll have some scrambled eggs.

10:13 am Text from Dave. On way.

I begrudingly eat eggs. They are gross. Ketchup does not make them better.

The thing about working in Catholic schools is that the relationships are different. Sometimes this is good. Sometimes it’s frustrating. Throughout the ordeal, I was texting my principal, Rick, updates.

Today he texted, “Up for a visit?”

Sure.

I trust my principal. Letting him see me at the hospital in my current state was an exercise in vulnerability. But it also meant he could better understand the situation and share information with my students, parents, and colleagues. Rick always visits students when they are in the hospital and is well versed in the local hospital system.

While I’m waiting for Dave and Rick to show up, the nurse comes in with a needle. I’m instantly suspicious. I have an IV. What’s the point of an IV if they are going to give you a shot. I ask what the shot is for. The nurse says it’s heparin, a blood thinner, due to worry of stroke. She even states,
“You’re not going anywhere.” I accept a shot of heparin to my stomach.

Dave did manage to show up before Rick. The nurses freaked out when he handed me my coffee. Don’t give the twitching woman a stimulant!! This twitching woman has a headache and needs her coffee.

Rick, Dave, and I shoot the breeze. Rick doesn’t seem phased by my state. We crack jokes, talk about school. Shortly after he leaves, the neurologist shows up.

Mysteriously (or not since it has a short half-life), there is absolutely no lidocaine in my system. Since I can sort of, just barely control my tremors/seizures, they must not actually be seizures. Since I’m not having seizures, I do not need an EEG.

Wait. It gets better.

What has happened, completely unrelated to the lidocaine shot, is I have sudden adult onset tourettes syndrome. Neurologist leaves, just as quickly as she arrived, having never actually examined me.

My head begins to throb. I feel nauseated. The nurse brings an ice pack for my head and injects zofran into my IV. Then they tell me I need a blood draw. But again, my IV is useless! They want to take it from my hand? arm? I don’t know. I’m just crying and not looking.

About an hour later, the nurse walks in and talks about discharge. Dave and I are like, “What?” You really don’t know what is going on, but you are sending us home? The nurse, to her credit, seemed surprised as well. I guess no one cares about the heparin they just gave me.

We head home with a prescription for tourettes med and no ativan, and directions to see my primary care doctor in the next week and a neurologist in a few weeks.

Great. Thanks for nothing Danish Blueberry Mound!