The ER

I felt like I couldn't take a breath - not that my lungs weren't working, but my throat was so clogged with phlegm that everytime I tried to take a breath, I sucked phlegm down my lungs and coughed and choked. I was a little scared that my breathing hole would close up altogether.

When I first woke up, I called the pastor and told her I was not going to make it to church - dereliction of duty! I hate this. I know the world will go on without me and I am not irreplaceable. They will manage. But today is the Cluster Choir. Its an annual event, very important. I have to find a way to be there for my choir. I finally admit what I have been refusing to think. I am going to have to get help. Figures its a weekend. But the breathing thing is just edgy enough that I decide to head for the Emergency Room. Maybe they have a critical care unit that offers non emergency care.

I instruct Kiel to drop me off and go on to church. I will call him when I am ready. I know the drill. This could take hours. It is 9 in the morning. Probably won't be out until the afternoon. I tell the pleasant woman at the desk that I am having trouble breathing - wrong thing to say I found out later. She tells me to take a seat and notifies the nurse. Ten minutes later they take me back - this is a good sign. I am shown to a curtained area and instructed to put on a hospital gown. That seemed a bit curious, but OK.

Next thing I know, a nurse comes in to hook me up to an EKG. "Wait," I rasp. "I have a cold. I can't breathe because my throat is clogged with phlegm. I can't cough it up and its settled right on my vocal cords." She looks at me with amusement and patiently explains that it is protocol. Anytime anyone says they are having trouble breathing, they are required to do an EKG to rule out heart issues. I protest, but it does no good. I get an EKG - normal. I could have told them that. I try to console myself with the idea that if ever I do have any heart issues, they will have a baseline against which to compare notes.

Next up? A chest x-ray! Once again, I insist that its not my lungs. It is my breathing hole in my throat that is clogged. I know my lungs are clear. The nurse obligingly listens and tells me that my whole right side sounds clogged. Protesting does no good. I get the chest x-ray. All clear. I could have told them that. Still, the doctor can't get past the idea that its my lungs. He insists on giving me a breathing treatment.

Again, I tell him its my THROAT - can you please look in my throat? I can't get a clean breath in without sucking phlegm into my lungs and choking on it. Its like trying to breath through water. He shakes his head and orders the breathing treatment. Fine. Maybe it will help. Does it help? No. It makes matters worse. I watch my pulse rate go through the roof, more than doubling. My heart is now pounding and I can feel my pulse in my ears.

The blood work comes back. Some factor for clots is elevated. Now he is worried and wants to do a CAT scan with contrast. This time *I* shake my head. Allergic. Can't go there. He is thinking of admitting me. Oh, for crying out Pete. Can you please give me something to dry up all this phlegm in my swollen throat that won't counter my blood pressure medication? Ah, there is one option. Steroids. What??!! Are you sure that's the only option?

Given my medical history, that's his final answer. They inject my IV with the stuff and give me a prescription. I leave feeling shaky and wobbly and still not breathing well or able to speak above a whisper. Sometimes I feel like I speak a foreign language. I know they have to protect themselves against a lawsuit, but really!

I head home to change for cluster choir. It is now 5pm. I manage to get to the church and hook up with the choir and they "interpret" for me since I am still laryngitic. About two thirds of the way through the evening, my voice starts to clear up and I am definitely feeling less wobbly. I think the steroids are kicking in. Seems like a rather complex process to get over the flu! My advice? Don't get sick!