Laughter is not always the best medicine.

Last night was knit night. And a good one at that - i got alot of a sock foot knit between knit night and the assorted work events I have been to recently. I grafted, with some degree of success (read, it might not unravel to holes in the next 30 seconds. I did however, still get something that looks like purl stitches and not knit stitches. Despite people talking me though it. And no one is sure how). I am *this* close to being finished my sweater, even with most of the ends woven in. I knit to the point of causing injury to my finger, borrowing an extremely uncomfortable band-aid to keep knitting (wearing band-aids, because i am allergic to adhesives, makes it feel as if a million ants are crawling over my skin) and then kept knitting to the point of bleeding through the bandaid. I have a little needle impression in my finger that insists on bleeding.

Why yes, christmas is coming, and while the goose is getting fat, my stash of gifts is not LOL.

But it was a good knit night, and much laughter was, as usual, had. This is why I go and this is why I love it. And this is why i may be banned from going to knit night again.

I laughed really hard. And then i made this sound I had never heard before, and hope never to hear again. It was kind of like a quacking. So, being as I wasn't sure what it was, I took my asthma puffers. Took the full dose that makes my hands tremble a bit and everything. The sound did not go away (Note, this happened, luckily, at the end of the evening when we were all going to the cars and talking about Captain Awesome.).

Got in my car, drove home. Quacking. And wondering why I was quacking. and how to make it stop.

Mom looked at me when I came in, and we decided, must not be a quack, must be some kind of demented cough. Ok, lets take cough suppressants. Strong ones. Codiene. That should stop this pretty quick. So i tossed back a full dose, lay down quacking, and waited for it to go away.

45 Mins passed, still going on. Ok, this is one stubborn thing my body is doing, I know...I will overmedicate it into submission. More pills, more waiting more quacking.

The sound was painful. As in, whatever was going on was causing my chest to hurt like woah. To the point of lying there, with tears. Standing made it worse. And I couldn't talk really. A word or two, but then that was it.

At 2 and a quarter hours of this not going away, or getting better, despite tossing lots of good drugs at it, we got worried. Mom had been asking me about the hospital since the first set of drugs didn't work, but at the same time, neither of us thought they would be of much help.

Finally, we called telehealth. By which i mean mom called for me (as i couldn't talk) and talked to a nurse, who could hear me quacking in the backgroud. Which ER did we want to go to, the nurse says. This is what they call a breathing emergency, and did i want the ambulance sent to my house? No, i don't want to pay for one of those, its been happening a long time, we can drive. It will be cheaper, more convienent. And, i wanted to make sure i stayed away from the actual local hospital at all costs. As i hate that hospital with a passion and don't actually trust them to keep me alive because the staff there is very very incompetent - as proved by my last experience there. And mom's.

Did we understand that they weren't joking about the ambulance thing? That that sound was me, not breathing right and that with out relatively quick treatment, not only was it not going away but that i would stop breathing? These are questions they asked my mom, even while i was going "but the er sucks. and wont help anyways"

So, at midnight we arrive at the second nearest ER. Stuill breathing, still quacking, and get checked in. The nurse we had talked to had sent information over to the hospital, which they proceeded to ignore. I was still walking, give or take, under my own steam, so please hurry up and wait.

So i sat down in teh waiting room, mask on, knowing this wasn't H1N1 (again) and watching as first everyone moved to the direct opposite of the waiting room from me. Crowded into one corner to avoid the weird person making that sound constantly. Then watched as everyone went to grab masks. Then watching as people who are clearly sick get up and walk out of the hospital. No thanks, don't want to catch whatever she has.

I actually cleared the hospital ER waiting room of everyone who wasn't being treated/wasn't in an emergency more acute. Bleeding people left without treatment, all while watching me as they walked away. I felt.....bad.

Then i started to get tired. Really tired. I don't want to breathe because its taking more energy than i have tired.

I took more medication while in the ER waiting room, trying to get this to stop so we could just go home already and i could sleep. Thats all I wanted, to lie down and to go to sleep. It didn't work.

At just after 2:15 am, the dr was finally able to see me - about 4 and a half hours after this all started. Looked at me, took a quick listen. Yep - my lungs and airway had swollen, and that needed treatment but the good news is no pneumonia. Well no, we didn't actually think that was what was going on.

So they hooked me up to pure oxygen then started giving me mask after mask of assorted breathing treatments. Steroids. Things to open the airway. Things to take away the pain (did i mention this hurt and by this point i had pulled, twisted, or otherwise injured most of the muscles in my neck and torso). Narcotics, to stop the spasms. Hydrated air, as i had damaged my airway. Cortisone, inhaled, to do...something.

The drugs came with side effects. One of them made me space out to the point of not being sure if i was sitting or what. One of them made my heart pound and my blood presure shoot up. Sort of like having a medically induced, can't get rid of it panic attack. One of them made it so that if i tried to sit up, i vomited. I could literally only lie down. The treatment, while it was stopping the sound and the pain, was almost as bad as the condition. And took close to two hours all told.

At just after 4 am they finally released me - with handfuls of new medications to add, some to my daily routine, some just tempory to deal with the new assult to my lungs that already had damage from pneumonia 10 months ago, from surgery, from h1n1, from developing this asthma. Drugs to prevent this from happening again, hopefully. Drugs for the swelling of a somewhat vial organ. Drugs for the pain.

During this time I was messaging with a friend who had ended up at the ER i worked so hard to avoid. My thoughts go out to her as she is still there. They were so busy i was being released before she was being seen. But maybe had i been there, i could have cleared their ER as well LOL.

I am home now, heavily medicated, and with a job that is angry at me for missing part of a day of work (i worked the afternoon shift against medical advice because i think i have missed enough time they are getting ready to fire me.)

I dont know why i am recording this event to be honest. I think i just want to get it out of my system.

Mom went with me, and actually stayed in the ER the whole time - not in the car, sleeping, though i told her she could. I told her i could drive myself (glad i didnt though, i would not have been able to drive home as i could not sit up.) I told her she could just drop me off. She decided this needed someone there.

I felt really bad and guilty for being at the ER - for scaring people with the sound i was making. For not being able to stop it or control it. For needing the medical attention in the middle of the night when people should have been sleeping.

I wanted to go home, and just wait it out and hope it would pass. I think i didnt want to admit what was happening.

I hate the ER. I have never had a good experience there - only shades of bad. My first trip, ever, i was sent home with some pain pills and a "doy......we dont know.....doy". Second trip was probably the "best" but....i was there many many hours of pain and it was still a "well heres what we think happened, good luck with that". Usually, they dont believe me. I was there last night, and i still got this feeling they thought i was faking it or something. I dont know that i can explain how or why i got this feeling, nor that i can say that it isnt just me but...

I dont know what it is i am even trying to say. I am tired, drugged, not sure that i am being clear or understandable and ever so done with being sick.

Clearly, laughter isnt always the best medicine