The Beginning Part 3

One weekend, my family went on vacation. I opted to stay at home for some reason. Friday night I was once again getting sick from the pain. I started to go to the car, and got so dizzy I almost passed out. I called 911. I told them that I also suffer from panic attacks, so they just assumed that was the problem with my head, and sent an ambulance. Actually, because I was having shortness of breath and chest pain, they also sent a fire truck. Did I mention this was around almost midnight? I’m sure my neighbors were ecstatic. They came in my house, and decided that I could walk to the ambulance on my own. (It was clear they had already assumed that all I wanted was a ride) They took me into the hospital, and left me in the ER waiting room. Once again, I got a fancy little bag, and a wrist band. Then they put me in a dark waiting room and told me someone would be with me in a minute. (Come on, we all know that in a hospital “minute” is medical speak for “two hours”) I ended up being in that room for three. The darkness of the room eased the pain a bit, yes, but it was still awful. I tried pressing my head against the chair, the wall, the floor, anything. I was desperate for some relief from this piercing pain. Finally, a nurse.
They took me back to a curtained in room, where I changed into a gown, and waited for another hour. Evidently nighttime is the busiest time. I saw a familiar face peek around the curtain. This was a doctor I had seen a few times before, and he knew my story. He had someone with him. A small, younger man, in civilian clothes. He told me that because I had been in so many times with the same issue, and never had any change, they needed to do a spinal tap. I had a feeling that they thought I was possibly drug seeking, and the idea of a spinal tap would make me run for the hills. But I immediately said yes. Anything that could possibly identify what was causing so much pain, I was willing to do. At that point, you could have told me to go jump off a bridge because it might help my pain, and I would have done it. I won’t go into detail, but that was one of the worst things I have been through in my entire life. (Granted, I have not been through childbirth, but I know a lot of people who would prefer childbirth to a spinal tap!) They had given me some sort of pain medicine for the procedure, but I didn’t feel any relief. After it was done, they gave me some morphine while they waited for the results. Needless to say, the results came back negative. I almost cried. What is wrong with me?? When the doctor came in to give me the results, I told him I was not feeling the morphine at all. He looked at me funny, and said, “I gave you enough morphine to knock out a 200lb man.” Yet I felt nothing. I had never had morphine before, so I figured maybe I either was not used to it, or it was just one of those unlucky things that happens. He told me he wanted me to come back for an MRI the next morning. I left the hospital (without getting shot up with medicine this time), and got a few hours of sleep. I came back at six am for the MRI. Only my head was inside of it, so I was not scared. When I was done, the woman who had done my scan said everything looked fine, but I would be contacted by the doctor with the official results.