Sunday, October 9, 2016

the imprint of my teeth...

So, a couple of nights ago, I had some nasty stomach pain which was followed by chills and sweat. Like a fool, I figured the gas in my lower intestine would clear out while I slept, so I went to bed and covered up with lots of blankets. At about one am, I awoke to an intense desire to use the restroom but was still shaking with cold as I lay there in a pool of sweat. Knowing that this couldn't wait till morning, I planned my attack. I would first throw off the covers as quickly as possible and then grab the closet door handle as fast as I could so that I could locate my robe in the dark and throw on a layer before I began convulsing from cold, and then make my way to the porcelain. All went pretty much as planned and I made it without freezing to death or tripping on anything. Then it happened.
I was sitting there about half-way finished and realized that my chills were multiplying quickly and that my body felt like it was shutting down. I broke into a dripping cold sweat and finished my business as quickly as I could. Stumbling to find the right light switch I grabbed the bathroom doorknob and bolted for the bed. The next thing I knew I was feeling my teeth slam something hard, hearing a crack that sounded like splitting wood, and feeling the carpet. Something warm and wet was dripping down my hair and face and the sweet voice of my wife was saying,
"Are you okay?"
Nothing.
"Jon, are you okay?"
"I don't think so."
Just then a light turned on and I could hear my wife saying something like oh my gosh as she said,
"Do I need to call 911?"
"I don't know..." I said. I really didn't.
"Can you get up?"
"I don't think so..."
It went on like this for a bit before I dragged myself from the floor and laid on my back in the bed. My face hurt.
Not knowing what to do, I called mom.
"Hey honey, what happened?"
"I don't know what to do. I had intense stomach pain tonight and... then I fell and... Laura says it looks like my teeth went through my lip."
So anyways, there was a lot of conversation like this for a bit and of course like any good mom should, she convinced us to wake the kids and go to the ER.
Laura was amazing - she held her cool and calmly got overnight bags for the kids and then got some clothes for me. I felt like I was going to die. Like all the blood had drained from my body and I was on my way out. I managed to get myself down the stairs and tried my best to reassure everyone that I would be okay, even though I really wasn't sure myself.
My parents met us at the ER and took the kids so that Laura could stay with me. As it turned out, the warm liquid I felt on my head was just from a glass of water I had left on the nightstand, but the pain in my face was from literally biting the corner of the nightstand (there are beautiful bite-marks there now) as my lifeless, blacked-out body careened toward the floor.
After a CT scan and lots of stitches both inside and outside of my mouth, the doctor informed my that I had diverticulitis and severe dehydration which had caused my black out. He would prescribe me some pills and all would be well... when my face healed. As they went to discharge me, I felt myself going cold again and asked to lay down. This did not make my doctor happy. He then had the take my blood pressure laying down, sitting up, and then standing. When I got to the standing part, I felt the cold sweat death-out coming on again and begged them to let me sit down (which they would not do). When they finished my pressure, apparently it had dropped to something like 37 over 44 which is  like the same pressure that dead people have, so they re-inserted my IV, and admitted me to the really real hospital where I stayed for the remainder of the night, the next day, the next night and most of the day after that.
Now, after being pumped very full of fluids and medication, I am back home, thankful for my amazing family.
So why did I post this? I think mostly because even though I feel much better, it's 3:34 in the morning and I can't sleep, so I figured I'd update the blog.
Jon

No comments:

Post a Comment