Reflecting on my recent health scare and emergency room visit.
Last month, I had a health scare that resulted in an emergency room visit. I wanted to reflect on that visit to clear my mind.
NOTE: This is a lengthy blog post.
In case it's helpful, below are the main points covered in this post:
Feeling Bad
On February 15th, I felt fine as I took my large dog, Lucy, for a long walk. By the end of a three-and-a-half-mile stroll, I decided to call my Mom to see how she was doing after she terminated her in-home nursing care.
The phone conversation was frustrating as usual, and I developed migraine during the long call. When the call ended, my head throbbed, and my heart rate increased. Dad and I ordered food to go from a restaurant we frequent regularly. However, the entree I ordered differed from my usual choices.
That evening, I had abdominal pains, body aches, and a slight fever (102.4°F/39.1°C) paired with chills. My stubborn mind had an excuse for the symptoms I had. The food I ate upset my weak stomach. The long walk made me feel sore. The fever and chills were because I was developing a cold (self-diagnosed) from walking Lucy during light rain showers the past few days.
On Monday, two days after I first felt bad, I lost my appetite. I ate two or three bites of a meal. I assumed I had a bad case of food poisoning since I knew I had a damaged and weak digestive track and stomach from medication I was forced to take during my teen years. I also have gallbladder issues and dreaded the day it would eventually have to be removed. I took over-the-counter medicine to minimize the symptoms.
By mid-week, Dad and I discussed when I needed to go to the emergency room (ER). After a quick online search, I read that it was recommended to go to the ER when the pain was unbearable, and fevers reached 103°F/39.4°C or higher. Except my problems would 'disappear' at times and my fever, when I had it, never exceeded 102.8°F/39.3°C. I also started my menstrual cycle mid-week. Dad and I assumed that things would pass if I quit doing household chores and rested.
There were times when I felt well enough to create some digital doodles while resting in bed or on the couch. In my mind, nothing I felt was a major issue that warranted a trip to the ER.
You may be wondering why I have not mentioned scheduling an appointment with my primary care doctor. Well, you see, I am embarrassed to answer this question, but here we go...
Despite paying for my own health insurance for the past seven years, I never established a primary care doctor. My vaccinations are up to date, but I never felt that I had to meet with a primary care doctor all these years. I meant to do so years ago to ask about perimenopause symptoms, but I came up with every excuse in the book to put it off.
For the past two years, my focus was on helping Mom. I visited her monthly or every other month to provide her support. Following Mom's health issues, multiple ICU hospitalizations, and constant verbal and emotion abuse in 2024, I finally decided to focus on my physical and mental well-being in 2025.
I established a primary care doctor in early February. Because I am considered a new patient, the earliest appointment I could make was for August of this year.
Learn from my mistakes. DO NOT go for years without at least establishing and meeting with a primary care doctor.
ER Memories
Over the weekend, I developed mysterious bumps on my arms and thighs. The bumps did not hurt or itch, but their unexpected appearance worried me. I was aware of measles outbreaks in Texas and wondered if I caught it despite having had the measles vaccine ages ago.
It was also over the weekend that I started vomiting. Dad said it was a sign that things were starting to pass through, and I should begin feeling better soon, but I knew my body. I knew something was wrong.
On Monday, February 24th, I asked Dad to drop me off at the ER. When asked at the counter why I was visiting, I simply said that I had abdominal pain and mysterious bumps appeared on my body.
The waiting room was full. Many people were resting their heads or napping in their seats. I figured I had a long wait ahead of me. The thought of waiting for hours triggered bad memories of when I used to take Mom to the ER.
Mom hated seeing her primary care doctor. When I was old enough to drive, Mom had me drive her to the ER for minor health issues like a stomachache. We would wait as long as seven or eight hours for Mom to be scolded for wasting her time visiting the ER when there was no life-threatening emergency.
In my late twenties, I put my foot down and refused to take Mom to the ER. She continued going to the ER on her own until she was temporarily banned for wasting everyone's time. This experience discouraged me from ever going to the ER.
Thirteen years ago, a colleague drove me to the ER after I fainted at work. While I was grateful to be treated for an issue that I was unaware of at the time (I later learned that I was hypoglycemic; not diabetic), several of the male nurses spoke unprofessionally and made me feel uncomfortable.
I should have complained about their statements, but I only wanted to get out of the ER as quickly as possible. The doctor wanted to admit me for the night, but I refused. We agreed that I would take time off from work to recover. This experience discouraged me from ever going to the ER.
My Recent ER Experience
As soon as I sat in the waiting room of the ER, I messaged my Dad to say I was going to be there for a long time. I then remembered bad ER visits of my past. I felt uncomfortable and wanted to cry.
I only waited for five minutes before my name was called. I was sat on a seat for the routine checks (blood pressure, temperature, etc.) and asked about my reason for visiting. When I was asked how I felt, I could not fight the tears and answered "scared."
Well, it turned out that I had reason to be scared. They struggled to draw blood. Because I have a fear of needles due to a traumatic ER experience when I was thirteen years old, I started to pass out, but they managed to keep me awake. They tried multiple times to draw blood from both arms but failed.
I asked if they had special tricks for getting to my nerves. I was told that it was “nearly impossible” to do when someone was severely dehydrated as I was.
Dehydrated?!? I increased my water intake significantly the previous week to avoid dehydration. I was stunned to hear that I was dehydrated. Before I knew it, many health professionals were in my room checking on me. They did an EKG on me. During the test, I overheard health professionals mention that I could not leave the room and that there were no other rooms available for me to go in.
After the EKG, I was handed a urine cup. I knew the drill. I went into the restroom and filled the cup. When I placed the cap, I noticed that my urine was the color of blood. I felt terrified. I started to understand why many healthcare professionals were paying attention to me. When I handed the cup to the nurse who assisted me to that point, I said, "My urine has been normal until now."
After I handed my cup of urine over, nobody answered my questions. When I would ask for details, I was told to rest and that they would take care of me. I know they could tell that I was scared, but nobody would say anything to me directly.
Fortunately, I overheard their conversations with one another. They were struggling to find a gurney for me. A doctor was worried that there were no available beds to admit me. I had "sepsis." I went into "septic shock." I was their "priority."
I was eventually moved onto a gurney and into a 'station.' Many tests were done on me, and nobody gave me details about what was going on. During the rare times I was alone, I searched online to learn more about sepsis and septic shock. The search results scared me.
Hours later, I finally spoke to a doctor. He explained that I had a bacterial infection that went untreated for too long. He commended me for going to the ER when I did, although late in his professional opinion, because I was "days away from death."
The doctor asked what took me so long to go to the ER. I stated that I was not in severe pain, and I only visited because I thought I had measles. I was informed that the mysterious bumps were a result of my body failing and would disappear once I started taking my antibiotic medication.
I told the doctor I felt scared. He said my feelings were understandable, but that I was healthy otherwise and would recover soon enough. He said that he wanted to admit me for the night, but there were no available beds. We spoke about my options. We agreed that I could go home since I did not live alone.
After nine hours, I went home.
How I Feel Now
I feel fine and have mostly returned to a life of normalcy. I have attempted to see if I can have my doctor's appointment moved earlier. I was informed that I am on a waitlist for an earlier appointment slot if someone cancels, but that I would have to wait for my previously scheduled August appointment as a new patient.
To be on the safe side, I am doing things slowly and taking more breaks. For example, Lucy and I used to complete a two-mile walk within twenty minutes. Since I started feeling well enough to walk her again (Dad walked her while I was unwell), we are completing a two-mile walk in an hour or more.
I believe Lucy enjoys the slower pacing with multiple rest breaks. Before my recent health issues, Lucy would not sit still for longer than a minute or two. We had to keep moving or else I would have to deal with minor behavioral problems. Now, she has no problem sitting with me and enjoying nature. We will definitely continue to take multiple breaks during our long walks.
The bumps are gone, but left bruise-like marks on my arms and thighs. I also have bruises from the failed attempts of drawing blood. I always initially feel embarrassed to go out in public wearing shorts or short-sleeved shirts that expose the bruises, but then I remind myself that I am not an attractive person anyway, so there is no reason to feel embarrassed. (I have self-esteem issues and will never do a face reveal!)
My goal now is to enjoy life and allow myself to be selfish for once. I have been a people-pleaser long enough. In other words, I am done catering to Mom's demands.
I was supposed to visit Mom to get her a new cell phone she does not need and whatever she demands I do for her. Instead, I will avoid her narcissism until May when I visit for Mother's Day and her seventy-eight birthday. Of course, I will call weekly (no longer daily as she prefers) to check on her and give her a chance to vent about whatever is on her mind that day.
This year will be the year I finally focus on my own health and happiness.
What's Next?
Since my appetite returned, my immediate goal is to eat a great meal once I publish this post. I want to enjoy food in case I one day lose my appetite due to health issues. Food is great.
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Thanks, and have a great day!
~Simply Jelly Jam
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