A Trip To The ER

August 28, 2012.

I woke up that day feeling weird. How weird? I wanted to throw up, but I had no fever. My stomach felt so empty, yet I was not hungry. Something was telling me not to eat or drink anything. I checked my phone. It was 7AM. I ran to the bathroom, knelt down before the toilet and threw up. I felt somewhat better. I passed time reading some books and watching some TV before putting on my uniform and walking to school. Yes, I walk to school because I live a street away from the school. I was already at the grade school entrance when I felt the need to throw up again. I walked back, but before I reached the house, I threw up on the sidewalk. I am so sure that those people who saw me throw up thought I was drunk. I ran home to wash my mouth. I walked back to school. My legs were giving way. I walked back home. That was at 9AM.

As soon as the yayas saw me they told me to stay home and rest. I was sweating like hell, felt really cold and weak. My brother saw me and proceeded to take my temperature. I still did not have a fever. The yayas wanted me to go back to sleep. I was all set to protest, but my body needed rest. My brain kept telling me that I had to attend my next class at 12:30noon because I already had three cuts in that subject. There was also going to be a quiz and I had to practice with my group for some stupid play. I sent some text messages to people telling them that I would be attending the next class. Little did I know that I would be in no condition to go to school the whole day.

I couldn't sleep well. I kept waking up to crawl to the bathroom and throw up. I had no idea what I was throwing up because my last meal was the day before. I finally got my body out of the bed at 12noon. Some dumb cartoons were on which I forced myself to watch. I was all set to go to class when I drank water and threw up some more. I text messaged my brother and said something like, 'Manong Simon, help!' He told me to rest and to drink Gatorade. Manang Rina came home. She mixed me some water with salts. Tasted awful! Drank it. Threw up. And then got taken to the ER.

After all the papers were signed and I had a little bed, the nurse came in with a needle to poke me with. They had to poke me twice. One poke to get blood. Another poke for the dextrose. The nurse took a look at my vein and said, 'It's so small.' I nodded my head, grabbed the side of the bed and looked at the pictures on Manang Rina's iPhone. And for some reason, it hurt like hell! I tried to distract myself from the pain by checking out the pictures, but no matter what I did, I ended up yelling my head off! The nurse kept pushing the needle. I kept yelling. And my vein collapsed. 

I remember the nurse telling me, 'Don't panic! We don't need you to have a panic attack right now.' I didn't care! A girl nurse came in to take some blood. That one did not hurt, but I clung to Manang Rina for some strength. I didn't dare look at the needle and the blood. I just wanted to sleep. That girl nurse went out and in came the nurse who made my vein collapse and a doctor. I needed the dextrose. They got my right hand. The doctor took a look at my veins. Went out. And he came back with the tiniest needle he could find. I leaned my head on Manang Rina's chest the whole time the doctor was poking me with the needle. After what seemed like an eternity, the dextrose thingmajig was up and running.

Maybe I got too tired from yelling and crying for I fell asleep as soon as all the doctors and nurses left. I have no idea if the medicine made me so groggy, but Manang Rina said I fell asleep. Next thing I knew was the yaya was waking me up telling me to pee because the doctor had to do some tests on my pee. I nodded my head and went back to sleep. When I woke up, the doctors were already telling me that I had gastritis. I took the papers they gave me and realized that I would be suffering from that sickness for the rest of my life. Paid the bill and left.

It's been about a week and a few days since that trip to the ER. I can still see where the doctors and nurses poked me with needles. I get annoyed when people touch my hands or squeeze them for my veins still hurt like hell. I am getting used to the fact that I cannot drink whole gallons of coffee and Coke. Been trying to get myself to eat on a regular basis. And I also have been telling my brain to poop on schedule. I carry around medicine with me just in case my body decides to mess with me again. I watch what I eat. I don't stay far from home. I am more careful.

And this was a crafty reminder that my body is slowly returning to dust. 



* Ah, yes. I totally forgot to mention that I was traumatized by needles when I was 2 years old. How bad is it? I have slapped doctors because of my fear.