Another New Year’s Day visit to the ER

January 5, 2008

By PHYLISS BOATWRIGHT
C-T Staff Writer

Well, I hope you all had a great start to 2008. My New Year’s Day was spent in the emergency room. And guess what? This was not the first time.

On Jan. 1, 2005, I took my husband to Person Memorial Hospital’s emergency department. He had put off seeing a doctor for a bad cold until it turned into pneumonia.

When he was feeling better, I of course fussed at him for not going to the doctor earlier. I didn’t put anything off, but I still ended up in the PMH emergency room. Last Sunday, I woke up feeling bad. Just your average everyday run of the mill cold. Not wanting it to get worse, I spent much of the day resting and taking care of myself. In other words, I was a lazy bum. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

On Monday, I came to work with a slight cough, the sniffles and a sore throat. I didn’t sleep much Sunday or Monday night, and was tired as all get-out, but I still didn’t think I was all that sick. Let me tell ya, my mind changed when I woke up Tuesday morning! First off, I overslept. Guess I was catching up for the previous nights’ loss. At about 9 a.m. Tuesday, I opened my eyes, looked at the clock and thought, “Uh-oh, I’m late.” We at The C-T were set to New Year’s Day and take Wednesday off, to keep in line with the postal service and its holiday delivery schedule.

I got up to rush and get dressed for work, but then I noticed this really strange noise in the room. It sounded like Darth Vader was behind me, having an asthma attack. It took a moment for me to realize that the gosh-awful sound was coming from me. And then, about the same time, I realized that I couldn’t seem to get any air into my lungs. “This can’t be good,” I thought to myself. And then Paul heard me try to breathe. He immediately said, “We need to go to the emergency room.”

So, while he called in to tell my editor what was going on, I threw on some clothes and we headed for Roxboro. I must say here that the staff at PMH treated me quite well, just as they did Paul three years ago when it was his turn to get chest x-rays and breathing treatments.

After my breathing treatment and a dose of antibiotic, I was sent home with an inhaler and scripts for more meds. I also had a dose of some really good cough medicine, which I drank, and which immediately put me to sleep. I’ve since had the prescriptions fill and have my very own bottle of cough medicine. Goodness gracious, it’s good. If you want to do some serious sleeping, this is, and not to be interrupted by a nasty cough. As I write this, it is about 4 p.m. on Friday and I think I’m going to live through this.

Still a little hoarse and weak but otherwise not bad. I am grateful to the good folks at PMH for taking such good care of me and getting me on the road to recovery. But, I sincerely hope I don’t see them again on New Year’s Day 2011. Or ever. In their work setting, anyway. And, so far, Paul has not fussed at me for ending up in the emergency room. Guarantee you one thing, though, next time, I’m going to the doctor at the first sniffle.

Reprinted with permission from
The Courier=Times