You would think this girl was an addict...as they rushed her into the ER Monday night. She was bent over in pain and a cold sweat broke out from time to time. She would never go out in public like this, no make up, badly mismatched sweats, flip flops. Surely, the girl needed to get her shit together!
She told them that there was no reason for this episode but then the nausea and vomiting started and the whole thing looked like a crack addict coming down from what should have been a fantastic high. Somewhere in her head, she was secretly laughing because she kept hearing that song..."she was running for the shelter of that mothers little helper"...but this had nothing to do with that at all....even when she asked for morphine to relieve the God awful pain.
"Marmie, they said...Marmie, what have you done? Tell us what happened!"
I smiled again at the mispronunciation of my name and answered the best that I could...I don't know, I just don't know! I heard the ER doctor explain that he thought this was a bowel obstruction and that with emergency surgery they would fix this in no time. They kept checking my wrist band and calling me Marmie...was I in an episode of Little Women, for God's sake?
Like a junkie, they quickly put a tube down my throat through my nose (who invented this should be killed on sight). The pump relieved the twisting and churning of my mid section and despite the discomfort of the apparatus, it did the trick. I felt a leather contraption snapped over my nose and I decided that for today I must look like Hannibal Lecter. The morphine made me feel gross in one way and better in another. What the hell? Was this another answer to my asking to be skinny, because I was feeling rather skinny after this round. Or was this an answer that my first days of "retirement" were too much party and not enough retiring? Who knew? And who the hell is Marmie?
After two days of fasting and recovery, no surgery was required. There was no damage to my small intestine, just a good old fashioned case of food poisoning gone awry. The late night Pizza party ending my glorious weekend of birthday and mothers day seemed like a good idea at the time. Be careful where you buy your pizza and just because you pile it high with vegetables from their open bins of veggies in the showcase does not make it healthy. It was pretty, but not healthy. Poor Mr. M is still suffering the you know whats from the whole thing.
I am home now and gaining strength. I keep joking that Mr. Mamie tried to off me on Mothers day...just for that I am cooking "broth" for dinner all this week. And say a prayer for "Marmie", she was one sick addict....I bet she will be the talk of the ER for at least another day or two. I think I even ran over a little old lady running to the restroom while waiting in the ER waiting area. Thank God, she thinks it was some jerk named Marmie!
For today, this mothers little helper is named Ally. She is the trooper in this whole deal, a young teen, but an adult when we need her to be....and as I have always been her shelter, it seemed kind of sweet that she was the one I ran to when the whole episode began. It is kinda cool to know that I can depend on and keep running to the shelter of my mothers little helper!
Be healthy all!! Mamie
