Whenever morality is based on theology, whenever right is made dependent on divine authority, the most immoral, unjust, infamous things can be justified and established.
–Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity
Self-respect is the cornerstone of all virtue.
Okay, so it wasn’t cramps. Or it was, but not a monthly sort of cramps.
Not that we really know what it was that had me doubled over and screaming, yes, screaming in pain. sambear cut the character creation process short to take me to an urgent care center last night. The pain kept getting worse and worse, so by the time the doctor came into the room we were in I was sobbing. He said, “Why is she here? Call 911, she needs the ER.”
So there was a very bumpy ambulance ride to the ER, followed by hours of poking and prodding that included a CAT scan and an ultrasound. The scan and lab work didn’t show anything. They did a pregnancy test despite the really obvious fact that I was still in the midst of the monthly bleeding—nope, still not pregnant. They saw lots of ovarian cysts and uterine fibroids, but nothing that should have caused the kind of pain I had. No signs of kidney stones or gallbladder problems or appendicitis.
Demerol + phenergan via IV is good stuff. Unfortunately, every time it started wearing off the waves of pain came back—as it is now.
I hated the ER doctor. Seriously. I got a strong, “Women whine” vibe off him, especially after he looked at the medical history and list of meds I take normally.
I’ll take the info to my doctor on Monday or Tuesday or whenever her office is open next. I’d rather deal with her anyway.
I’m trying not to think about the medical bills. Come Tuesday, I’ll try to find out if I qualify as “medically needy” under the state Medicaid guidelines. The monthly income limit for a family of two (me and shadowkatt is $356. As I read it, the guidelines say that if my medical bills exceed my income by enough to “spend down” to that limit or below, I qualify. I don’t know if they can make it start as a 2/1 or if it would start as of 3/1.
I did get a scrub shirt from the ordeal because the urgent care center took away my t‑shirt and put me in a hospital gown. And a prescription for Vicodin that we need to go fill. When we finally got out at about 5 am, we weren’t in any condition to go looking for a drugstore that was open.
curiousmay9 and sambear are better to me than I deserve. They stayed with me and took care of me and even made me laugh. Our very own avatar of Athena also brought food and coffee for the bear, which was a Very Good Thing.
My achievement for the night was calming myself down enough to ward off an incipient asthma attack. Yes, I realize that seems silly, but I’m proud of it. I’m trying to focus on that rather than the shame of making all that noise. Seriously, I’ve very seldom made ANY noise during pain or cried other than silently where nobody would know. It’s one of those things I was raised to require of myself that I would never ask of my child.
Edit: It was a burst ovarian cyst.