Rusty's ER Excursion

First of all, I would like to sincerely thank everyone for their well-wishes, concern, thoughts, and kind words in Rusty's behalf.  Last night was quite an ordeal!  I will recount our ER adventure forthwith. And fair warning: I am a detail oriented girl so if you don't want the play-by-play, this is not the blog post for you.

Russell John Bringhurst Jr. loves his new bracelet!

Rusty was taking an afternoon nap. Around 7:00 PM I decided nap time was over and dinner time was imminent.  Rusty opened his eyes and tried to lift his head, when he was abruptly overcome by muscle spasms, profuse cold-sweats, and dizziness.  His hands clenched and collapsed on themselves like arthritic claws, and he went from dry to drenched within seconds.  He said he felt like his head was a thousand pounds, and could not lift it or move at all, aside from writhing from the pain.  I felt his skin and it was frighteningly cold.  He began to panic from this sudden onset of dread illness.  I left the room for a moment to google his symptoms, and rushed back in at the sound of violent retching.  He puked his guts out into the bedroom garbage can and stumbled his way to the bathroom, where the retch-fest and sweat escalated to vicious ferocity.  He was talking delirious nonsense and looked like death itself so I decided it was time for action. 

Waiting for treatment... Rusty was practically unresponsive and pretty darn green.

Rusty is a stubborn, stubborn beast and would freak out with every effort I made to dress and move him.  I finally had to get  forceful and demanded that he either find the strength to get up and help me move him or so help me I'd chuck him in the car on my own terms.  He swallowed his weenie man-pride and let me dress  and take him to the car, trusty garbage can in tow. 

St. Marks is the closest hospital to our house, but had I known what was in store for us there I would've taken Rusty ANYWHERE else.  I was seriously disgusted at how we were treated upon arrival.  Long waits and completely negligent, dismissive nursing staff marked our waiting room experience.  I had to put Rusty in a wheelchair and he could barely muster the cognitive function to answer questions.  They took his stats and his temperature was barely above 94 degrees.  He was drenched from sweat-- and I mean as soaked as if I'd sprayed him down with a firehose-- with a low temperature, and air conditioning blasting.  I pleaded for a blanket and the nurse acted as if I'd asked for her firstborn, ho-humming and saying "Well, pssshfftt, if I can find someone who can bring you one they can get it for you.  An hour later, with Rusty shuddering and convulsing from cold the entire time, me laying over him to try to give him some of my body heat,  we got called to the accounting desk to settle insurance.  I told the girl that we were getting really distressed and said "I get that there are wait times, I know how ERs work, but all we asked for was a blanket." So she said, "Well I can get you a blanket."  Thus our very first taste that anyone besides me gave a crap that Rusty was suffering.  By the way, he was also puking his guts out into a bucket. In the waiting room.  People were moving away from us, they were so uncomfortable. I even stepped away for a minute to break down in tears at the utter lack of consideration everyone was showing us. Yet the front desk nursing staff continued to turn a blind eye.  I asked the guy we checked in with what the estimated remaining wait time would be.  He was very irritated that I'd interrupted the moment he was sharing with his ham sandwich and didn't even make eye contact as he dismissed me with "We'll get to him when we get to him, go sit down."  Shameful!!!

Nurse Tiffini got the IV in one stab but underestimated the power of Rusty's mutant veins-- dark brown, chocolate syrupy blood gushed out as soon as she had it in.  Bwahaha, blooooood!

So Rusty had gotten sick at 7:00 PM.  We arrived at the Emergency Room at 8:00, were given the blanket I asked for at 8:35 by about 9:45, and were finally shown to a room a little after 10:00.  We waited another half hour to be seen by a doctor, and after that things started to clip along.  Our doctor was fantastic.  He didn't presume anything and was genuinely committed to not only making Rusty feel better, but also discovering the cause of his illness.  Now I should interject here that this is not the first time Rusty has had similar symptoms: On June 27, he awoke from a nap dizzy and puking.  We assumed it was from a migraine he'd had over the course of the day.  A few weeks before that, same thing-- we thought maybe food poisoning was the culprit.  This history led the doctor to his conclusion that Rusty has Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo, or little crystals in his ear that offset balance and sense of gravity, inciting extreme nausea and vomiting.  It's a frustrating disorder because episodes are frightening and unpredictable, and there is no cure available-- just management techniques.  

You should've seen how the Valium turned that frown right upside-down!  I don't think Rusty's ever felt better! 

Rusty was plugged into an IV, where fluids and quick doses of anti-nausea medication and Valium had him feeling better almost immediately. The doctor ordered a CT scan and blood screening.  Rusty was wheeled away by a kind angel who, after giving him his CT, brought TWO WARM blankets so that Rusty had his first real relief from chills all night.  The CT came back normal (phew!) but they found some disconcerting results from the blood work-- Rusty's white blood cell count was alarmingly high.  Normal levels fall between 5,000 - 10,000.  Rusty's were at about 24,000.  High white blood cell count is generally the result of 3 causes: Infection, high stress, or leukemia.  The doctor thought to rule out infection and leukemia, and hoped that vomiting for several hours had increased his stress level sufficiently to elevate the white blood cell count.  All the same, we were advised to follow up once normal stress levels were reattained.

See?  That's a Valium smile right there.  Getting ready for his brain-probe.

We were discharged shortly after midnight and got home around 12:30.  Rusty was feeling pretty invincible from all the happy-juice, but I venture he was a lot more wiped out than he thought, as he didn't stir from bed until after 1:00 PM today.  He's feeling much better and introducing food back into his war-ravaged stomach one step at a time.  He was given prescriptions that will manage future episodes at the onset.  All in all, no one likes to go to the hospital, but we were glad that we got such thorough treatment and a pretty solid diagnosis so we can effectively manage his vertigo.  I think moments like these are beneficial in that you are forced to examine your life, and Rusty has agreed to taking steps toward a healthier future.  

Rusty better.  Sunny tired... but also relieved that my man-cub is ok :)

We really want to thank all of you who have reached out to us.  Your support is immensely appreciated.  Salud, To Health!