This is one of my favorite stories...
During my sophomore year of college I came home for Christmas break, and on the first night of being home I had a horrible dream. I dreamt that someone was doing surgery on my stomach with a sharp knife and I was wide awake, but they couldn't hear me saying I could feel everything. I woke up terrified, and was like, oh good, that was just a dream. But as I layed in bed, I thought to myself... but the pain is REAL!! I couldn't move out of my bed and I was terrified I was dying! (I always go worst case scenario!)
I tried to yell out as loud as I could, "Mom!" but with my parent's door shut and the mass amounts of pain I was in I couldn't yell very loud and they couldn't hear me. I always have my cell next to my bed and lucky for me, that night was no different. I called my house phone but only heard it ringing in the kitchen. Dammit! They turned off the ringer in their bedroom. I called 4 times and on the 5th time, I decided if they didn't answer I would call 911 and the paramedics would wake them up!
My mom finally picked up the phone. It was 4 am, and she was like, "What's wrong?" I told her to come to my room, I was in pain. She kept saying, "Where are you? Why are you calling me?" I'm like, "In my room, get off the phone and come in here!!!" (Later, she explained in her sleepiness she assumed I had gone out and she thought she had to figure out where I was before she got off the phone. When she came in, I told her I couldn't yell loud due to the pain!)
Anyways, I told her something was wrong, and she tried to help me up to go to the hospital. I started to move and the pain got worse. I was like, "I can't move!" She told my dad to call the doctor. He went to the kitchen and was looking up the doctor's number, when we heard a crash.
My mom yells, "Steve? STEVE????" No response. She runs down the hall and sees my dad collapsed on the floor, blood rushing out of his head. Apparently, he had passed out and hit our french doors and bashed his head open. When he came to, he kept saying, "4612, 4612." My mom was like, "What?" Apparently, those were some of the doctor's number he had tried to dial.
Meanwhile, I can't see a thing down the hall, I'm leaning out of my bed, and saying, "Mom? Is he okay? What is going on?" My poor mom, overwhelmed, said, "Jessie, it's fine... stop yelling!" My mom got my dad a towel for his head, and decided it was time to call 911. Me she could maybe handle. My dad and I both down for the count was too much for her.
She called 911 and as always the firemen show up first. They saw my dad on the ground bleeding from the head and rushed towards him. My mom said, "Don't worry about him, he's fine!!" They gave her a look like, "Are you sure? That's a lot of blood!" My mom was like, "She's back here," and started down the hall. They were probably thinking, "What are we going to find back there if the guy bleeding is "okay"?" Haha.
They found me in my room and started to check my vitals. Me being the girl I am still noticed that one of these guys was pretty attractive. I remember talking to him about his sister going to the same school I was about to go to. I whispered to my mom when he left, "I don't have my glasses on, was he cute?" She was like, "What? You are supposed to be in pain, not trying to meet boys!" I was like, "You obviously don't know me very well! :)"
My dad and I both went to the hospital that night and were admitted to our separate rooms. He got bandaged up and I got to go through tests for kidney stones and ovarian cysts. I also got an IV from the moment I got there (as most do). At this time I was still new to my thyroid disorder and was not as used to needles as I am now. I freaked out. I started crying and begged them not to do an IV. But they had to, especially if I wanted any pain meds, which I did. They got the IV in and gave me some morphine. Life got a lot better after that! :)
I had a fun examination which I remember the doctor (a guy, and I had never had a guy doctor down there before) state before he began, "I'm touching you now." I still think that is weird, and maybe it was because he was an ER doc and not a gyno, so this was not common ground for him. :)
Anyways, the result was an ovarian cyst that ruptured. Since that time I have been on good ol' BC. I hope one day all will function well on it's own down there and I can successfully have babies. But for now, I have a good story, and my dad has a scar on his forehead to forever treasure the memory of this exciting night. :)
And if the cute fireman/paramedic who talked to me is still single and wants to live in Seattle, feel free to leave a comment as I'm still waiting for the guy to have these babies with. J/K... kind of :)
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