Pam and I drove down to Miami on Thursday, December 2nd to celebrate our best friend, Linda’s, birthday on Friday. We had a great dinner at our favorite local restaurant, The Village Café, and spent the day Saturday at Aventura Mall. Saturday evening we ate at a local Japanese restaurant on Biscayne Boulevard where I had a delicious terriaki steak. I ate about 2/3 of it and took the rest back to Linda’s to finish up later. Next day I worshiped at the Miami Quaker Meeting, came back to Linda’s where I finished the steak off, and took it easy after a short trip to the local T.J. Maxx’s. When we got back to her place, I started feeling a bit bloated and uncomfortable. We ordered out a pizza and I went out to pick it up, feeling a bit worse. When I returned I decided I didn’t feel like eating, so I went to lie down. My chest was quite uncomfortable when I breathed and I felt like I had just smoked a couple packs of cigarettes. I decided to check my blood pressure and was shocked to find it a whopping 179/107. We decided to call 911 and that’s when the fun began.
The EMTs did an EKG and asked me how long I had had atrial fibrillation. Of course, I never knew I had such a condition. They suggested I go to the hospital, to which I reluctantly agreed—mostly to assuage any concerns Pam had. I was taken to North Shore Medical Center, a community hospital a couple of miles from Linda’s house, arriving at the ER around 8 PM. Of course, I was hooked up to all sorts of machines and another EKG was done. Then I sat (or should I say “laid”) around for what seemed like forever. In the meantime, a lady suffering from dementia was admitted to the next bay to me and every once in a while she’d get of the gurney and start walking around. I had to call the nurses in to get her to lie back down, but it got worse and worse. At one point, after I had been there for a few hours I could hear the nurses say that the doctor who was giving them orders hung up on them and they couldn’t believe it. In the meantime, a cardiac arrest came in and the woman in the next bay was up and wandering all over the place. I was calling for the nurse “stat” but they were too involved with the new case and they couldn’t come. I’m still hanging around, waiting to be moved upstairs. Around 2 AM or so I asked the nurse if she knew when I might be moved upstairs and she told me that the on-call doctor had hung up on them. I was a bit pissed, to say the least, but I just bided my time. Finally, at 2:30 I told the ER doc (a great one, I might add) that he should contact the guy who hung up on them and tell him that I am a retired insurance claims manager and if he wishes, I can make his life as miserable as he wants me to. The guy called back within a half hour.
I finally got out of the ER at 4:30 AM, some 8½ hours after I was admitted. The ER doc told me that they cannot release me to the hospital, proper, until a staff physician accepts me as a patient. So, after 3½ hours of sleep Monday morning, it began a day of lying around, cat napping and waiting to hear something. I now find I will be transferred to Mercy Hospital, which has a large cardiac care program and, if my stents are clear I can be discharged. One can only hope.
1 comment:
Well, for God's sake, have they at least ruled out GERD? You described what happens to me on the rare occasion that my reflux acts up. Except the BP spike, but still! Hope you're on the mend and can go home soon.
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