So. Yea well I was just truckin a long. Days away from surgery, rockin this ostomy kickin ass and taking names. ….Lets talk about my sunday.
So, Sunday. I decided to spend a large amount of dollarz on Kick Rock tickets. Why? Because well its just something you do when you live in detroit…hes not that great but its more about the atmosphere. Don’t judge. Anyway, so I get there to tailgate like 2 hours in advance, drink a boat load and I’m having a (kid) Rockin time. All is well in Jackie land. So I’m hanging, having some in depth drunk talk with my boyfriends family, and the show starts. Yahoo. Well almost at the exact same time, my stomach starts to hurt. Like really hurt. So I just sit down and think ok this will pass. So I’m hanging out sitting down while everyone is having a great time and my stomach is trying to eat itself. So I grab the BF and I say, hey when we leave we might have to go to the hospital. I was pretty determined to tough it out. Eff you kid rock and your expensive lawn seat tickets. So anyway, A few songs into the set I couldn’t take it anymore. It coulda been my inebriated state or whatev, but regardless I had to leave. So we take our drunk asses and miraculously arrive at the BFs house.* So his roommate drives me to the ER, where my sister meets me. Mind you my sister has an infant…so she called a friend who left her child to come to my sisters house, until my mom could get there. It was a cluster fuck for sure.
So i get to the ER…and guess what. I dont have my new insurance cards yet…so I used my old ones…can’t wait till they figure that one out. Anyway here is what I learned about the er. You can basically walk in and say “ouch I hurt” and they are like, “ok here is some IV dilaudid.” SERIOUSLY.
I get in there, and I’m trying to hold it together so they can’t tell that I’m shit canned, and I tell them, I’ve got an ostomy and my stomach hurts, blah bllah blah. He gives me an IV, and I bleed all over the place. Then after I’ve been there awhile they ask me to pee in a cup, and I’m all “oh no, they’re gonna see I’m schwasted” and I hand them a cup full of clear pee. Like…No hiding the drunk factor. And NOTHING. They say nothing and just keep feeding me the dilaudid. So I do what I always do on dilauded…talk nonstop about made up stuff. From what I hear its rather funny, but I never remember. I do remember some ahole trying to shove his finger in my stoma…which I remember feeling far from awesome.
So they give me xrays and a CT scan (which is barely remember) and tell me that they see nothing. So I stay over night, and the two douchiest GI doctors come in in the morning and tell me, that my disconnected ass was causing my stomach pains…not a blockage. Is that even possible? I don’t think so. Whatever. Also at this ER there was no time frame in which you could get dilaudid and benadryl….it was literally everytime I asked. Coulda been every 30 minutes if I wanted. Slightly redic. If I was on heroin or something they would have just kept shooting me up. Whatev. So if you’re looking for some easy drugs…go to beaumont.
Anyway…I slept for literally 24 hours on monday…Monday does not exist to me. I feel fine now….ready to get this stupid butt stump out of me. C’mon tues.
*Lets pretend like we flew. I dont need your lectures.