My wife's been in pretty bad shape lately, she's the type who won't take medication for a headache. The contents of our medicine cabinet in alphabetical order are: Ibuprofen. Can't remember the last time either of us took an Ibuprofen but other than those white, oblong shaped, 800 milligram tablets, the only pill type capsule things you'll find at our place are supplements.
She's most likely to take an Ibuprofen for bad cramps. I might split one in half if I can't walk. Supplements / vitamins, that's about it, been there done that with the other stuff.
Since returning to the states last August to participate in a mandatory two week global lockdown to curve the spread of covid 19, we're still curving it. That didn't come out right....
Since returning to the states last August, Pura was quickly hired by a produce distribution company placing purchase orders. We were on US territory less than a month when she started. In the past year and two months - covid restrictions included; working with the public on a daily basis if you could imagine that during a pandemic in addition to more than 50% of her colleagues contracting covid at one time or another - she hasn't missed one minute of work. She volunteers for extra shifts occasionally.
She exercises daily. That and practices decent eating habits—healthy. She'll only drink water or coffee. Won't take medication for pain—dependable employee. She's tougher than me.
Today is the 10th day in a row she missed work. She began feeling better yesterday, I even got her out of the house for a minute. Last night her fever finally broke. She ran a fever upwards 103.9 degrees for three days. We've been in her doctors office twice, the emergency room once and, most recently, diagnostics and imaging for a CT scan.
She has chronic pancreatitis. All she has to do is consume something her pancreas doesn't agree with and it throws her entire digestive system into a pancreatic attack like she's been dealing with the past 10 days. Usually these attacks only last a day or two. Never before now have they been so intense her fever climbs high enough to attempt an emergency room visit at 11:30 at night.
We all have issues.
My spine looks like a windy road warning, how are your issues today? Puras pancreas is currently in a "shriveled state" due to inflammation. No more Thai food in Knoxville, Tennessee—shit's deadly! She's taking antibiotics as prescribed now and slowly but surely beginning to consume food like normal again. She's confident she'll be placing orders next week.
I don't know how to deal with these things - I don't know about talking about these things - I've never been here. My hands are tied, I'm helpless when her pancreas does that. All I can do is what I do; console her, cook, make appointments on time, have a cold cloth on hand, pressure front desk personnel to get off their ass, drive, open doors, twist bottle caps.
We waited an hour and 45 minutes in the standing room only "emergency room" at Mercy Medical Center. There was at least 50 coughing and sneezing and borderline handicap people in there. The only procedure she received the whole time was stand on the scale and even then her weight was recorded by a police officer—not once addressed by medical personnel beyond the receptionist.
I didn't take pictures, she insisted I did not do that. After midnight—about an hour into no treatment she texted her doctor who amazingly enough responded back. She was able to schedule a CT the following morning and suggested if she didn't feel overheated, get some rest at home. Concerning body temperature or not, emergency room treatment in The United States of America is a fucking joke.
"No pictures!"
I'd rather not consider documenting our experience in the emergency room here or in any country. I've never seen chairs that wide, not in a waiting room or restaurant or movie theater or anywhere. Never. We brought it to each others attention afterward. The waiting room chairs were every bit as wide as two first class airline seats (yes). I thought only ottomans were built that wide. If there was 50 people inside that waiting room, all but 10 fit in those extra wide chairs. The people who couldn't stand nor fit in the chairs were accommodated with extra wide wheel chairs unlike either of us have seen—lounged back almost flat like a gurney with their legs kicked out like a gyno exam.
When they weighed Pura the scale measured in kilograms. I've never seen anything weighed in kilograms in the United States, not even marijuana, no public school coast to coast teaches the metric system. That was weird. It wasn't until we left we talked about it, there's only a few logical explanations. Either people in this state are embarrassed to hear 350, 450, 500 pounds and "180 kilos" sounds better or scales don't register passed 350 lbs.
We witnessed a pizza delivery in the emergency room, that's not a joke, first time for everything. :repeat: They delivered a pizza to one of the coughing / sneezing sick couples who could barely fit in those chairs while two armed police officers on duty played chess.
Large pepperoni with extra cheese and Canadian bacon on spicy jalapeño crust.
Dude raised his hand. He got up to meet the pizza delivery guy at the electronic entrance doors, "no pictures!" She angrily whispered out the side of her mouth. He returned to his seat, pizza in hand, both he and his wife consumed the whole thing right there in the emergency room.
Puras doctor scheduled a 10 am CT scan the following morning, back home we go. Cold wash cloths and whatever it takes to keep her comfortable. Next stop: Outpatient Diagnostic Center in Knoxville.
Would you believe me if I didn't show you and instead said less than 20 feet from the entrance doors to a professional medical facility specifically designed to treat sick or otherwise unhealthy people is a "smoking area?" I thought for sure that glowing concrete cigarette thing had a line through the cigarette discouraging smoking at the facility entrance but it didn't. Cigarettes are encouraged. I took pictures.
CT—the one you drink a contrast before imaging so the doctor can view your internal organs and properly diagnose a "shriveled stage" pancreas / inflammation. Not a lot of us in the waiting room that time, less than 10.
30 minutes later we were outta there. Puras current condition was diagnosed by the time we got home. Stopped by the pharmacy for antibiotics, God willing she's up and running tomorrow or the next day.
And just when I thought I'd seen it all, someone's grandma with a mullet walked in the waiting room, checked in and sat across from us. She lifted up her shirt that said in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS DILLIGAF and removed her belly button ring.
