The Itchy and Scratchy Show

Monday = Home!
Tuesday = Murphy!
Wednesday = Friends!
Thursday = Allergic Reaction :(

I woke up Wednesday morning with a bit of a dry scratchy throat. Boo, I wasn't interested in getting sick. Late Wednesday, my arms and chest started to itch. By Thursday morning, my stomach and back were itching. By mid-day, everything itched. I tried Benadryl. Nothing. I tried Gold Bond Anti-Itch Cream. No dice. My mom called the nurse hotline and was told we would receive a call back within 15 minutes. I showered (first since coming home, by the way, without fan fare due to the stupid rash). I used anything I could think of.

By 4:30 pm, I was ready to pull my skin off, and we still hadn't hear back from the nurses (good thing I wasn't dying), so I called back. (Side note, I noticed later they had called, and left a voicemail. Oops!). After listening to all of my symptons - itching EVERYWHERE, sore throat, fast heart rate and a slight shortness of breath, along with the long list of medications I was one, the nurse suggested I come into the hospital. OF COURSE I had waited until after 5 pm to call back, which meant my only option was the emergency room.

I pushed the nurse, asking if I really needed to come back in, and if I did, could I just go to Evergreen? She put me on hold and called the Ortho Doctor on-call. She said the doctor thought it was my pain medicine, and that he said I needed to come in. Sigh. Then she said I "could" go to any hospital that I wanted, BUT she really reccommended coming to Harborview. Did I mention it was about 5 pm at this point? On a Thursday? Blergh. She, in not so many words, said that another hospital would need to request my records from them to really understand what drugs I had over the last week, and after 5 pm, that might take some time. (code for, Harborview probably won't respond). Harborview it is.

My mom had JUST left before I talked to the nurse. I hung up and immediately called her. Twelve times. This woman doesn't believe in answering her phone while driving. I felt like maybe me calling so many times would alert her, but nope, she had it on silent in her pocket. In fact, she never even noticed, until I called her after she was home. Luckily, Cheryl and Christina were here. Cheryl had been staying with me since Murphy came home, helping take care of him. After two nights in my house, she was packing up to go home when I was talking to the nurse. Bless her heart, she stayed.

The gravity of returning to Harborview started to set in. I started to cry. (really? I broke my pelvis and was solid, but an itchy emergency room visit sent me into tears?) Whatevs. Action time. We agreed that Christina would stay behind and take care of Murphy, and Cheryl would take me to the ER. Mostly because Cheryl has an SUV, and that was more appealing of a ride than a sedan. I talked to my mom and agreed it made more sense for her to stay home and I would call with an update when I had one.

Now, how do I get downstairs again? Ack. I don't recall exactly how we came to the conclusion that I should go down standing vs. sitting, but we did. We tried a few options, but landed on Christina being my left crutch and the railing being my right. She would step down to the step below and I would lower myself down. She pretty much just had to stand there, because her natural reaction was to grab my pelvis.

We made it down pretty quickly. I loaded into the back of Cheryl's SUV, just like I had into my brother's truck. Brought Magnolia the elephant along, pillows and blankets. We were off . . . into traffic. It took us about an hour to get down 405, across 520 and up to Harborview. We pulled into the unloading zone at Harborview. Cheryl grabbed my pink walker from the back and helped me out. I hadn't encountered any step of any sort with my walker yet. I had to get up the curb, which was strangely awkward.

I made my way in, with Cheryl in tow, while her car was left in the loading zone. The entrance of the Emergency room includes a hallway about 30 feet long, a large waiting room and a triage space. The initial 30 feet, felt so far. I checked in, got a bracelet and was instructed to go to the triage waiting space. Cheryl left to park her car. I walkered over and found a seat. The closest seats were taken by a large family. Cheryl showed up a short time later, and the wait started.

Eventually, I was called over, had my vitals taken and poured out all of my medications, while discussing my symptoms. I walkered over to another station to sign stuff. The intake staff recognized me from last Thursday. While I didn't recognize them, one said she had taken my signature. I quietly hoped that meant something good and maybe I would qualify for frequent flyer miles or something and get to board early. Now, more wait time.

I do not like to wait. I do not like to wait in waiting rooms with other people. I do not like to wait in waiting rooms with other people who appear to be crazy, or drunk, or on drugs, or chew loud, or smell bad. Harborview's waiting room was ALL of these things. Luckily, Cheryl understood, as I grimaced each time people would wander by. There was one special guy who was brought it my an ambulance, and just reeked of urine and alcohol. He EMT's brought him out through the ER into the waiting room. He sat near me and I am pretty sure I gagged. Cheryl and I scooted over, but couldn't move, because we were sitting on the only seats that didn't have arm rests. I needed to put my leg on a seat and ones with arm rests didn't work. Eventually this guy wandered over to the bathroom (note to self, don't have to go to the bathroom here, EVER), then over to one entrance to the ER that requires a key card or granted access, so he set off the alarms. Then he wandered over to the other entrance to the ER and set off that alarm. Then he scuffed off out of my view, eventually returning to his seat. While he was gone, others went to sit there, and people near by encouraged them not to.

Cheryl and I also spent time watching this couple. She was obese in a wheel chair with one leg up in the leg extenders. He was pushing her around. They kept coming and going and coming and going, and Cheryl pointed out that every time they left, they came back with something new. A face mask. An ice pack. Dinner. It was comical. I guess.This was not my cup of tea and I was seriously wishing that I had just gone to Evergreen or Overlake. The snob in me was starting to come out. All in all, it was a distraction from the itching.

I watched people who had been there before me go back. A lady came and sat right next to me. She smelled of incense (a smell I despise, almost more than urine and alcohol). Then she started eating peanuts. On the other side of me for some time had been a kid with an allergic reaction to nuts, and had been rushed back. I found irony in the fact that the vending machines (where she had purchased these nuts) even sold nuts, when people have nut allergies. Anyways, she started to chomp them and then turn them into paste. The sound was so gross, my skin started to crawl. I was hyper-sensitive to crazy things at this point. I overheard my name among the nurses in the back, hoping that was a good sign, but the nurse taking people back called someone else's name. Blergh. Maybe I did have increased shortness of breath. Maybe my heart was racing more, I was pondering lying about it when he called my name.

He called my name and Cheryl waved at him. I slowly stood up and he asked if I needed a wheelchair. I said it would probably be faster to use one, if one was available. He ran though the doors (which my drunk, urine soaked friend had previously set the alarms off) and I made my way over. He was running. He came back with a bed. A bed. He explained there was a good bed available and he wanted me to have it, but it is first come, first served. I hopped onto the bed as best I could and he started pushing me while running down the hallway, my walker clanking behind us and Cheryl following.

At one point, he thought the bed had been taken, but it hadn't. We whizzed in and he said the bed was mine once I was in it, so to hurry up. I got in on a side of the bed that I had never done before. It was awkward, and it hurt, but I was in. Someone will be with you soon.

I had been texting people while we waited, but my phone battery was nearly dead. There were no outlets in the waiting room, so as soon as we got in, Cheryl scouted some plugs and got us charging. Christina was home taking care of Murphy, having problems getting a pill down his throat. (sorry Christina).

I was greeted by a Registered Nurse Practioner, Kimmie. I immediately liked her. We talked through all of my symptoms (again) and started talking about what the plan was. Step one, another IV. She decided to put me on Benadryl (Histamine II blocker) and Zantec (normally used for Stomach acid, but also a Histamine I Blocker). A nurse would be in shortly to administer.

A few minutes later a nurse came in and introduced herself. He name was Z. I immediately remembered Z as the nurse who had administered my medication while I was in the trauma unit just a week before. I mentioned something and she recognized me.

She first administered the Benadryl. As it came into the IV, I could feel it. I started to get shortness of breath, very rapidly, to the point where my brain started to panic. I looked at her and waved my hand, and she just stared at me calmly. It was very creepy, and what I would envision the look would be like if I was ever murdered by someone crazy. (yes, I have thought about this, I watch WAY too much TV, especially about crimes). In my defense, Cheryl thought it was creepy too and was about to jump up when it stopped. Obviously Z knew it happened, but I kind of felt like she could have warned me so I didn't panic when it set in. The Zantac was administered slowly. I still itched.

Kimmie had left to chat with the Pharmacist about what could have caused the allergic reaction, while I got Zantac. The warned me I would get tired, but I didn't. I just kind of sat there, periodically asking for my phone, or chatting with Cheryl. Kimmie returned and told me they were fairly confident that it was the Dilaudid pain killer I was on. They were going to send me home with some additional prescriptions, and change me from Dilaudid to Morphine. She also said that the pharmacist said that an allergic reaction to Dilaudid was common after about a week. It was a synthetic, and just took longer than others. WHAT?! Why did you yahoos send me home with a month's worth of Dilaudid then? Kimmie asked if I wanted to fill my prescriptions there, or if I wanted to go elsewhere. I made a joke about the pharmacist taking 3 hours and she smiled, and said, yeah probably. I'll pass!

After discovering they also couldn't call anything into another pharmacist (stupid narcotic drug addicts who make life difficult for the rest of us), I was discharged with prescriptions. There were definitely times of waiting and excellent people watching (comfortable from my little curtained area, and a safe distance from all smells), but all in all, it was a pretty quick ER visit.

Cheryl wheeled me out to the waiting room, and left for the car. I walkered out and waited near the entrance. It was cold and windy. Standing on one leg was no easy task. We were on our way home shortly after, without much more event. We stopped at the pharmacy to fill my prescriptions (and er, McDonald's . . . shhhh!) and made out way home. We were gone a total of 7 hours. That sounds long, but I have spent a lot more time in ER's before, so I was actually impressed. (sad, I know)

Cheryl decided to stay another night at my house, to make sure I was okay and it was nearly midnight by the time we go home. Other than continuing to itch, my Friday was very uneventful. Cheryl left about noon to beat traffic. I had cancelled all of my visits that day, except dinner because I wasn't sure how I would feel.  I was still itchy, despite being on Benadryl and Zantec.

Late Friday night, I was pretty sure that I would be pulling my skin off. Itching is the worst thing in the world. Period. I have debated about what was worse, the broken pelvis turn my first night, or this. GAWD. It was awful, and I looked crazy. I had gotten ride of the bumpy rash I had at the ER, but I was still freaking itchy. And scratching was totally sub-conscience. I would get yelled at my Christina and she would threaten to put mitts on my hands. At 4 am, I had enough. I called the nurse hotline again, and they suggested adding Zyrtec and doubling my Benadryl. PLUS I was on Morphine and Tylenol for Pain. Oh and a few other things to help my stomach deal with the pain meds (Senna and Doc Q lax) and then an injectable blood thinner.The nurse had recommended a baking soda scrub. So, Christina and I (well Christina) made a paste and we started applying. I scratched, she applied.

Normally, this is something you would do in the bathroom, not on a bed. Damn you stupid leg. Lots of scooting and scratching. It helped a lot. Most of the other solutions (calamine, Aveeno Oatmeal Bath, etc) lasted about 5 minutes. This lasted until like 10 am on Saturday.

I was taking the Morphine for pain, coupled with Tylenol. My pain was gone. I only mention this because it demonstrated that not only had Dilaudid caused an allergic reaction, it also hadn't been working. Apparently the pill form of Dilaudid is known to not work for pain as well as the liquid form administered via IV. I was feeling all of my pain, except what the Tylenol had covered. I repeat, I was feeling all of my pain. I had been on the pill form of Dilaudid since Saturday when I got my IV out.

At 3 pm on Saturday, I took Morphine and within minutes I was itching again. I was done. I was done with narcotics. I just had to let this Morphine get out of my body. I loaded up on Benadryl, Zantac and Zyrtec and hoped the next few hours would be okay. I decided to take the maximum amount of Tylenol and hope for the best.

That evening I had a group of amazing girlfriends over, and luckily they distracted me from the itching. I woke up itch free on Sunday. HALEFRICKINLUYAH.