Okay maybe I’m exaggerating a lot.
It’s funny how things happen. Yesterday I wrote a blog post about going into anaphylactic shock on Tuesday at work and I mentioned how it was strange that I ended up in the hospital at a time when Boyfriend wasn’t at game night. Well, I probably shouldn’t have published that blog post until today because last night – sure enough – Boyfriend leaves to go play board games with his friends and I have another allergic reaction to nuts. My immune system just does not want him to have fun without me!
This time I didn’t even ingest the nuts. My friends and I were playing a card game and they were both sharing a peanut butter bagel at the table with me and apparently in one week I have gone from being someone who can eat peanut butter out of a tub with a spoon at midnight because I was having a dream about peanut butter and woke up from a craving, to being someone who can’t even be in the same room as peanut butter. In a few short minutes my arms and face were beet red and my chest had tightened again.
So I texted Boyfriend – who left for game night only about thirty minutes prior -that I was having an allergic reaction and he rushed back to the house to get me.
He brought me to the closest hospital, which happens to be a very shady place to spend a Friday night, which I’m sure you’ve caught on to if you’ve read previous hospital posts. They brought me in to triage right away and while I was getting my vitals checked the nurse asked Boyfriend to go register me. When they came back to put my hospital band on my arm the receptionist asked me to verify my birth date. Right away I turned to Boyfriend and, acting appalled, said “YOU FORGOT MY BIRTHDAY AGAIN?!” The receptionist picked up on this rather quickly and assured me that Boyfriend knew my birthday without having to skip a beat. I chuckled, but later Boyfriend admitted that it took him a second to remember the date, which is acceptable given the fact that he had just rushed his girlfriend to the hospital so she wouldn’t die.
They brought me back into the emergency department and we walked past a hospital room with Corrections Officers standing next to a bed with a man in shackles laying on top. “Great start to a Friday night in the hospital”, I thought. Boyfriend and I exchanged glances. We were escorted into a large room with about seven hospital beds sectioned off by curtains, and it seemed like there was a big Prison Party happening at the hospital because we were greeted by another prisoner cursing and loudly exclaiming that the nurse was trying to kill him by not letting him have a glass of water. The whole time the doctor was asking me questions about why I might be having an allergic reaction we had to keep pausing while the prisoner continued yelling obscenities about dehydration and how he just wanted a glass of fucking water. The doctor rolled her eyes and told me it must be a full moon out.
At one point the doctor asked me if I had any other medical problems, to which Boyfriend and I both looked each other in the eye and then burst out laughing. Probably not the reaction the doctor was expecting. I tried giving her the abridged version of my medical history and the sweet girl suggested that she was going to read over my files to see if she could find a correlation between my sudden allergies and my past medical issues. Sweet, sweet, naive resident. Bless her for trying.
As the resident doctor went off with the adorable intention of putting together my medical jigsaw puzzle, a nurse came in to give me an IV and this time the nurse made me bleed. I might not have even caught on that I was bleeding if Boyfriend hadn’t come over to me to rub my hair and distract me from looking down at my arm. They hooked me up to 4 bags of prednisone and benadryl and put a little finger clip on my index finger that measures oxygen levels.
I got a little bit stoned from the medications and kept looking down at my finger and thinking that I looked just like E.T. and then I kept trying to get Boyfriend to touch his index finger to mine so we could recreate that scene from E.T. and he told me he would only do it when all of my medications were done, as a little reward for me. That didn’t stop me from trying for 3 hours while I waited for the IV to be finished.
I kept falling asleep and then waking up to apologize to Boyfriend for falling asleep, or to complain about the fact that my feet were dangling off the hospital bed, or because the prisoner next to us needed some “fucking water” and had to declare that to everyone in the room. Someone kept telling him to shut up because he was disturbing the peace and he would retort that the only reason peace was being disturbed was because the nurse wasn’t giving him that glass of fucking water. I was tempted to go fill up a glass of water and pour it over his head, but I was attached to an IV stand and I was too tired to stay awake for longer than two minutes at a time.
At one point I woke up and asked Boyfriend to text Ian to bring Smash Up to the hospital. I thought that Boyfriend texting Ian about Smash Up would be the funniest thing in the world. I must have been wrong because Boyfriend just rolled his eyes and went back to reading Game of Thrones.
I asked Boyfriend to sit closer to me because he was too far away, but he didn’t want to move his chair because my blood was all over the floor.
And then my IV was finished and I was told I could go home, so Boyfriend kept his promise and reached over with his index finger to touch mine so I could live out my dream of recreating E.T. while hopped up on prednisone and benadryl.
Just a typical Friday night for us.
Definitely beats game night with friends!