I had just put some cookies in the oven when I had a strange pain on my right side. I joked to one of my roomies, “I think I’m dying,” and then within 5 minutes I actually thought I was dying. I was lying on the floor in a fetal position when I decided I needed to go to the hospital. Now, I hate going to the doctors or the hospital, but I had never experienced something like this and it was bad. Real bad. My one roommate walked my hunched over self out of the building and flagged down a cab. Before I got in I said to my other roommate who was staying behind, in a pained and weak voice, “Don’t forget my cookies in the oven.” If I was coming back alive, those suckers were mine.
After arriving at some ghetto hospital downtown on 7th ave, I sat in the waiting room where had I had an appendicitis, I would’ve died right there in the waiting room since it took forever to see me. Finally, they put me in a “room” and by room I mean a little area where they close it off with curtains and tell you to undress and put on a gown, but people can pretty much see in anyway cause they never close the curtain completely. I don’t care if everyone working at the hospital has “seen it all before,” close the darn curtain all.the.way.
It was hard to describe the pain to the doctor since it had stopped hours before. I felt pretty stupid since I was never the “its hurts when I do this” kid in kindergarten complaining to the school nurse. I’m not a hypochondriac and I’m not a baby when it comes to pain. After explaining what had happened, they started treating me like I was some kind of teenage pregnancy case. I assured them that would have been impossible but the Dr. looked at me with a face that said “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t tell your parents.” Though I’m pretty sure if I was, they’d fine out soon enough. Oh no mom, this isn’t a baby, I’m just saving a watermelon under my shirt for later.
Anyways, they did an ultrasound and found nothing. I wanted to say, “I told you I wasn’t knocked up,” but seeing as I was still in a gown with an open back where my bum was hanging out, I figured I wasn’t in any position to be making fun of anyone. They sent me home without a definite diagnosis, and I left the hospital as the girl who cried wolf…but at least my bum was finally covered back up. I tell you all this because I had a Dr. appointment a few weeks ago that shed some light on what probably happened 6 years ago.
to be continued…