The post I've been post-poning. It's a long one.
"It's like Chinese Algebra to me"
Sigh
It's been a rough week for me. In hindsight, I realize it began at least 2 weeks ago. Back when I thought there was something wrong with me. One of those days that week, Emily and Rachael stopped by my store. We talked about doing the patio that night. As we were talking, and I was finishing my supper break smoke, KC came up the street. He didn't look well, but he didn't look rotten. He was exhausted and didn't want to do anything that night. I decided to go home after work and watch TV with him. Probably more of that box set.
That's how the rest of the week went. I already told you I missed the Halifest after party and the Contrived CD release. It was obvious he was doing worse that Saturday. We went for breakfast, and he couldn't even finish it. He usually finishes mine as well. When I left him, he was feverish. He was walking around in a hoodie, while I was wearing clothes almost appropriate for summer. He went home, and I went to work. I was worried, but only a little. At this point I thought it was a flu. I wondered how he would do drumming that night. I met him at the Pavilion after work. He was shaky and weak looking. He was still willing to go to Gerry's and/or Stage Nine, but I said we should just go home. He said he didn't want to hold me back. I told him I loved him, and I would enjoy relaxing with him, even though I had been excited for what I expected of the night.
Rereading my post from the following Monday, I see that he still had a fever and that was beginning to worry me, but I was still shrugging it off. When he stopped at my work on the way home from his work he looked like death was on the way. Little did we know, it actually was. I tried to convince him to go to the clinic. I told him that a fever with a cold or flu should go away in a day or two. Since his is persisting, I said it's probably an infection. He was also complaining of difficulty swallowing and a stabbing pain in his face. He pointed in the direction of his sinus under his eye. He just wanted to go home and lie down, so he took the bus and told me he'd see someone if he still felt bad the next morning.
And boy did he ever still feel bad Tuesday morning. The pain in his face was getting worse, and he was covered in sweat. It wasn't just a fever, but it was a high fever. He actually went to work. He went to the clinic after work. The doctor, according to him, didn't seem to give him the time of day. Maybe she assumed he was some junkie off the street. Sure he looked bad (because he was so sick) and hadn't been shaving much, but even if he HAD been some junkie off the street, he deserves proper medical attention. She barely listened to him, and when he mentioned pain near his sinus, she looked in his mouth and said, in her snooty British accent, he had a really bad infection. She wrote him a prescription for amoxicillin and sent him on his way. When filling the prescription (his first of four), the pharmacist suggested Advil Cold & Sinus for the pain. He spent about $30 and said only the Advil did anything. I didn't sleep at all that night. I was finally beginning to believe he might die. His breathing sounded laboured, shallow, and gurgling. I found out later, he wasn't asleep either. In fact, he got less sleep than I. The pain. He decided he would call in sick for work the next day. It would be his first time ever calling in sick.
By Wednesday morning, his voice had changed. It sounded deeper, and scratchy, but not in a sore throat way. Knowing that ears, nose, and throat are all connected, I asked if the doctor checked his throat. He said no, just his sinuses and insisted that his throat didn't hurt. I didn't want to leave him but I didn't think I could stay. I believed the antibiotics would eventually kick in and he'd start to feel better; it was just at it's worst right now. Luckily, he knew otherwise. Luckily, he decided he didn't trust the negligent doctor, and made his way to the emergency room. He surely would've died by Friday at the latest, had he not gone to emergency. I'm not exaggerating.
I called him around 4:00 to remind him to take his next dose. No answer. I fretted for 20 minutes, and then he called me to tell me where he was. At that point, I was very worried. I knew he wasn't one to rush in to the doctor/emergency room for no reason. But, I also knew that people without family doctors go to emergency to get diagnosed with mono, or strep throat (but, his throat didn't hurt. A symptom of both of those sicknesses). I desperately wanted a cigarette, but I was alone at work for at least another hour. I told the guy from Stage Nine, and I told Gerry, but at that point, it still didn't seem serious.
Four hours later, he called me to tell me he had to stay in the hospital for at least 2 nights, and they were putting him on an IV. He told me he had an abscess around his tonsil, and they drained it. It sounded like talking to me was excrutiating, so I asked him when I could visit him. He said they were transferring him and he'd call me later to tell me. I told him to go, talking sounded too painful, and I'd talk to him later. I knew I wouldn't sleep all night, and I didn't want to go home. The place was too empty. My cats weren't even there. The were still in Hotel Liverpool where they went when we went to Newfoundland. I called Seth and Nancy, to see what they were doing and to say this may mean we can't go to Cape Breton. No one was there. I called Emily, tried not to cry while I told her, and she said to come over after work. I did. I felt a little like I was imposing, but maybe that's because I realized I'm often drinking around the North Street people. Thank you all for letting me impose. Thanks especially to Piggy, who didn't even hurt me that night.
On my way to Emily's, I stopped at the One World cafe to see how the show was going. Of course the conversation quickly turned to KC. It's not often someone will see me without him, unless they see me at work. "Where's KC?" "Do you really want to know? He's in the hospital. [long explanation]" People expressed their shock and concern and told me to pass on messages to him. When passing the cafe, I say Darcy inside, and decided to tell him. In I went. Half the people in there already knew. Fucking Halifax. I had only told 2 people. Well, 5 I guess, since I left a message at Seth and Nancy's and called Emily. But, as I found out later from KC, most people only knew he was there, but not what was wrong or that he had been turned into an inpatient. See, someone else had seen him in the emergency room.
I felt guilty going to Emily's. I knew he would try to call me, but the answering machine was full, and if I didn't answer, he'd think something happened on my way home. But, he was safe in the hospital, and they were treating him. He was going to be okay. He left me feeling optimistic at the end of the last conversation. Sure, it sounded like he was in pain, but he'd heal. He wasn't going to die. I was dazed and needed company. When I got home, I couldn't sleep for another 3 hours. I found what he had. A peritonsillar abscess. I found out for fact how close he was to death. His breathing was already becoming blocked.
I talked to him Thursday morning, and visited him on my way to work. I apologised for not being around the night before. He said the doctors were great and he was actually kind of enjoying himself. He was hopped up on liquid codeine. He said the doctors told him his first prescription was very mild. There are a few things I don't understand, and they are the things that make me not feel guilty referring to that doctor as neglectful. First, those at the hospital saw the giant abscess right away. It wasn't small enough to need ultrasound in diagnosing. How did she miss it? Second, if she said he had a "very bad" infection, why the hell would she prescribe a "very mild" antibiotic? KC theorized that she gave him the prescription she did because she thought he wouldn't be able to afford more. He just got 2 tax returns. Also, he went there because he doesn't have a doctor in the city, not because he's homeless. Also, it would cost more (and did) for him to get other prescriptions because the one she gave him was useless.
Anyway, he improved so quickly, that they let him out a day early, with a new, $40 prescription. Ratio-clindamycin. Apparently this stuff would be perfect for him. We even told everyone he'd be able to play in Sydney on Saturday. And he would've been able. Had something that is RARE not happened to him. The doctor said it all depends on how he takes care of his mouth. Don't smoke, don't drink, and eat only healthy food, and the physical activity involved in drumming would actually probably help him.
Friday night, at Dog Day practice, he seemed better than I'd seen him in a month or so. So bright-eyed and energetic. He joked he may need to wear some Depends in the truck the next day. Most antibiotics (maybe all) can cause nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. It's a nuisance, but a normal side effect. What happened to him wasn't normal, but can, rarely, happen with the particular antibiotic he was prescribed. He didn't sleep at all Friday night, and called the pharmacy as soon as it opened. She explained the problem, and he called the hospital looking for a doctor that had treated him. The resident doctor explained what had happened and called in two more prescriptions to the Shopper's on Quinpool A certain stomach bug is resistant to the antibiotics he was taking. His medicine was doing a fine job killing the bacteria in his throat, and other bacteria (including good ones) in the rest of his body, but that left these stomach bugs by themselves to multiply and have a party. Essentially, he now had a stomach infection. He spent another $30 on the two bottles. One for his throat, and one for his stomach. I can't give you their names, because he has them with him at work.
The pharmacist was an animated Chinese woman. Animated personality of course, not an Anime character. She was awesome. As soon as he said his name, she chuckled and said "Oh, I have something for you." She told him how to take them, explained that even these pills could upset his stomach, so to eat when he takes them, and stressed repeatedly that the stomach ones would make him "violently ill" if he mixed them with alcohol. In fact, he can't drink for three days after stopping the meds. "I'm not kidding when I say they'll make you violently ill. hahaha." We both loved her. Her personality made it easier to remember what she said. So often, I'll get home from the drug store, and read the pamphlet they gave me, forgetting everything they said. I think her accent helped. I know her tone of voice and her laughter helped.
In conclusion, kids, if your symptoms seem different than a cold or flu, like a persistant fever, please get yourself checked out. I know. I hate going to doctors, too. But really, take advantage of the free health care while we still have it. It sure beats dying.
Some other articles, that I haven't even read yet:
http://www.aafp.org/afp/20020101/93.html
http://www.emedicine.com/EMERG/topic417.htm
http://www.intelihealth.com/IH/ihtIH/WSIHW000/9339/9399.html
"It's like Chinese Algebra to me"
Sigh
It's been a rough week for me. In hindsight, I realize it began at least 2 weeks ago. Back when I thought there was something wrong with me. One of those days that week, Emily and Rachael stopped by my store. We talked about doing the patio that night. As we were talking, and I was finishing my supper break smoke, KC came up the street. He didn't look well, but he didn't look rotten. He was exhausted and didn't want to do anything that night. I decided to go home after work and watch TV with him. Probably more of that box set.
That's how the rest of the week went. I already told you I missed the Halifest after party and the Contrived CD release. It was obvious he was doing worse that Saturday. We went for breakfast, and he couldn't even finish it. He usually finishes mine as well. When I left him, he was feverish. He was walking around in a hoodie, while I was wearing clothes almost appropriate for summer. He went home, and I went to work. I was worried, but only a little. At this point I thought it was a flu. I wondered how he would do drumming that night. I met him at the Pavilion after work. He was shaky and weak looking. He was still willing to go to Gerry's and/or Stage Nine, but I said we should just go home. He said he didn't want to hold me back. I told him I loved him, and I would enjoy relaxing with him, even though I had been excited for what I expected of the night.
Rereading my post from the following Monday, I see that he still had a fever and that was beginning to worry me, but I was still shrugging it off. When he stopped at my work on the way home from his work he looked like death was on the way. Little did we know, it actually was. I tried to convince him to go to the clinic. I told him that a fever with a cold or flu should go away in a day or two. Since his is persisting, I said it's probably an infection. He was also complaining of difficulty swallowing and a stabbing pain in his face. He pointed in the direction of his sinus under his eye. He just wanted to go home and lie down, so he took the bus and told me he'd see someone if he still felt bad the next morning.
And boy did he ever still feel bad Tuesday morning. The pain in his face was getting worse, and he was covered in sweat. It wasn't just a fever, but it was a high fever. He actually went to work. He went to the clinic after work. The doctor, according to him, didn't seem to give him the time of day. Maybe she assumed he was some junkie off the street. Sure he looked bad (because he was so sick) and hadn't been shaving much, but even if he HAD been some junkie off the street, he deserves proper medical attention. She barely listened to him, and when he mentioned pain near his sinus, she looked in his mouth and said, in her snooty British accent, he had a really bad infection. She wrote him a prescription for amoxicillin and sent him on his way. When filling the prescription (his first of four), the pharmacist suggested Advil Cold & Sinus for the pain. He spent about $30 and said only the Advil did anything. I didn't sleep at all that night. I was finally beginning to believe he might die. His breathing sounded laboured, shallow, and gurgling. I found out later, he wasn't asleep either. In fact, he got less sleep than I. The pain. He decided he would call in sick for work the next day. It would be his first time ever calling in sick.
By Wednesday morning, his voice had changed. It sounded deeper, and scratchy, but not in a sore throat way. Knowing that ears, nose, and throat are all connected, I asked if the doctor checked his throat. He said no, just his sinuses and insisted that his throat didn't hurt. I didn't want to leave him but I didn't think I could stay. I believed the antibiotics would eventually kick in and he'd start to feel better; it was just at it's worst right now. Luckily, he knew otherwise. Luckily, he decided he didn't trust the negligent doctor, and made his way to the emergency room. He surely would've died by Friday at the latest, had he not gone to emergency. I'm not exaggerating.
I called him around 4:00 to remind him to take his next dose. No answer. I fretted for 20 minutes, and then he called me to tell me where he was. At that point, I was very worried. I knew he wasn't one to rush in to the doctor/emergency room for no reason. But, I also knew that people without family doctors go to emergency to get diagnosed with mono, or strep throat (but, his throat didn't hurt. A symptom of both of those sicknesses). I desperately wanted a cigarette, but I was alone at work for at least another hour. I told the guy from Stage Nine, and I told Gerry, but at that point, it still didn't seem serious.
Four hours later, he called me to tell me he had to stay in the hospital for at least 2 nights, and they were putting him on an IV. He told me he had an abscess around his tonsil, and they drained it. It sounded like talking to me was excrutiating, so I asked him when I could visit him. He said they were transferring him and he'd call me later to tell me. I told him to go, talking sounded too painful, and I'd talk to him later. I knew I wouldn't sleep all night, and I didn't want to go home. The place was too empty. My cats weren't even there. The were still in Hotel Liverpool where they went when we went to Newfoundland. I called Seth and Nancy, to see what they were doing and to say this may mean we can't go to Cape Breton. No one was there. I called Emily, tried not to cry while I told her, and she said to come over after work. I did. I felt a little like I was imposing, but maybe that's because I realized I'm often drinking around the North Street people. Thank you all for letting me impose. Thanks especially to Piggy, who didn't even hurt me that night.
On my way to Emily's, I stopped at the One World cafe to see how the show was going. Of course the conversation quickly turned to KC. It's not often someone will see me without him, unless they see me at work. "Where's KC?" "Do you really want to know? He's in the hospital. [long explanation]" People expressed their shock and concern and told me to pass on messages to him. When passing the cafe, I say Darcy inside, and decided to tell him. In I went. Half the people in there already knew. Fucking Halifax. I had only told 2 people. Well, 5 I guess, since I left a message at Seth and Nancy's and called Emily. But, as I found out later from KC, most people only knew he was there, but not what was wrong or that he had been turned into an inpatient. See, someone else had seen him in the emergency room.
I felt guilty going to Emily's. I knew he would try to call me, but the answering machine was full, and if I didn't answer, he'd think something happened on my way home. But, he was safe in the hospital, and they were treating him. He was going to be okay. He left me feeling optimistic at the end of the last conversation. Sure, it sounded like he was in pain, but he'd heal. He wasn't going to die. I was dazed and needed company. When I got home, I couldn't sleep for another 3 hours. I found what he had. A peritonsillar abscess. I found out for fact how close he was to death. His breathing was already becoming blocked.
I talked to him Thursday morning, and visited him on my way to work. I apologised for not being around the night before. He said the doctors were great and he was actually kind of enjoying himself. He was hopped up on liquid codeine. He said the doctors told him his first prescription was very mild. There are a few things I don't understand, and they are the things that make me not feel guilty referring to that doctor as neglectful. First, those at the hospital saw the giant abscess right away. It wasn't small enough to need ultrasound in diagnosing. How did she miss it? Second, if she said he had a "very bad" infection, why the hell would she prescribe a "very mild" antibiotic? KC theorized that she gave him the prescription she did because she thought he wouldn't be able to afford more. He just got 2 tax returns. Also, he went there because he doesn't have a doctor in the city, not because he's homeless. Also, it would cost more (and did) for him to get other prescriptions because the one she gave him was useless.
Anyway, he improved so quickly, that they let him out a day early, with a new, $40 prescription. Ratio-clindamycin. Apparently this stuff would be perfect for him. We even told everyone he'd be able to play in Sydney on Saturday. And he would've been able. Had something that is RARE not happened to him. The doctor said it all depends on how he takes care of his mouth. Don't smoke, don't drink, and eat only healthy food, and the physical activity involved in drumming would actually probably help him.
Friday night, at Dog Day practice, he seemed better than I'd seen him in a month or so. So bright-eyed and energetic. He joked he may need to wear some Depends in the truck the next day. Most antibiotics (maybe all) can cause nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. It's a nuisance, but a normal side effect. What happened to him wasn't normal, but can, rarely, happen with the particular antibiotic he was prescribed. He didn't sleep at all Friday night, and called the pharmacy as soon as it opened. She explained the problem, and he called the hospital looking for a doctor that had treated him. The resident doctor explained what had happened and called in two more prescriptions to the Shopper's on Quinpool A certain stomach bug is resistant to the antibiotics he was taking. His medicine was doing a fine job killing the bacteria in his throat, and other bacteria (including good ones) in the rest of his body, but that left these stomach bugs by themselves to multiply and have a party. Essentially, he now had a stomach infection. He spent another $30 on the two bottles. One for his throat, and one for his stomach. I can't give you their names, because he has them with him at work.
The pharmacist was an animated Chinese woman. Animated personality of course, not an Anime character. She was awesome. As soon as he said his name, she chuckled and said "Oh, I have something for you." She told him how to take them, explained that even these pills could upset his stomach, so to eat when he takes them, and stressed repeatedly that the stomach ones would make him "violently ill" if he mixed them with alcohol. In fact, he can't drink for three days after stopping the meds. "I'm not kidding when I say they'll make you violently ill. hahaha." We both loved her. Her personality made it easier to remember what she said. So often, I'll get home from the drug store, and read the pamphlet they gave me, forgetting everything they said. I think her accent helped. I know her tone of voice and her laughter helped.
In conclusion, kids, if your symptoms seem different than a cold or flu, like a persistant fever, please get yourself checked out. I know. I hate going to doctors, too. But really, take advantage of the free health care while we still have it. It sure beats dying.
Some other articles, that I haven't even read yet:
http://www.aafp.org/afp/20020101/93.html
http://www.emedicine.com/EMERG/topic417.htm
http://www.intelihealth.com/IH/ihtIH/WSIHW000/9339/9399.html
posted by crystal at
11:47 am
3 Comments:
agreed, Cyrstal. and also, seek a second opinion. if your feeling is that your doc is being neglegent, he/she probably is. there is no hurt in a second consultation, especially in Canada where it is free. i love KC very much and i am glad he is not going to die this year.
By
Anonymous, at 23/6/05 11:16 am
We were thinking about it all weekend in Montreal. Every once in awhile Holly would say "I wonder how KC's doing?" I'm so glad he is ok.
By
ger, at 23/6/05 10:46 pm
Yes, Brian, good point. It would've been a lot worse had KC not sought a second opinion. But, don't count your chickens before they hatch. There are still six months left of the year so he still might die. I'm glad he didn't yet.
ger, that's sweet. I'll let him know you were concerned, but I think he does know. I hope you had a good time in Montreal. I didn't read your's or Holly's post about it.
By
crystal, at 30/6/05 12:26 pm
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