Just when I thought my path to recovery was on track, I hit a bump in the road yesterday.
While negotiating a turn on my walker, from hallway to bedroom, the walker hit the side of the doorway and I fell onto the carpeted floor.
No injuries, but I simply couldn’t get up from floor to bed. Even with my wife Vi’s help,
I felt headachy, but my temperature had been 97.8 or 98.2 the past two days.
But when I fell, I knew the temp was higher because my whole body was warm. Vi had earlier taken a reading yesterday, but I was asleep in the morn, just like the two days before., when I had no appetite, was groggy, taking over-the-counter meds.
Recalling my feverish spell last August (when I discovered I had a gall bladder abscess problem that spread to my liver), Vi made an ER call despite my “no need” pleas, and minutes later, an ambulance arrived.
The team of two women first responders did the usual: checked my temperature, which was 100.2, took my blood pressure (didn’t ask, but didn’t see the numbers), and asked about the meds I have been taken.
The big question: should I be whisked to the hospital?
I figured, why not? But clearly, I was not an ER-needy patient. The first responders, who are both nurses and doctors, said that all ER rooms at hospitals are jammed to the max. If I wanted to be treated at Queen’s, which has all my medical history, ER patients typically have a 7-hour wait.
If I were to be shuttled to Kuakini or Adventist Health Castle, the wait might be shorter and the trek longer, but the load is equally full.
Their suggestions: hydrate, take Tylenol to bring down the fever, Ibuprofen if needed and – at least for a few hours because I was toasty warm – sleep in the bedroom with the AC on, to reduce the body heat.
And guess what, the advice worked!
Sharing these thoughts, in case you’re in the same boat.
