So, at 5pm on Thursday evening, I took one mouthful of food - two large and dry pieces of chicken on one spoon - and immediately tried to spit them both out. I managed to get one out, but, unfortunately, I swallowed the other piece involuntarily. I could feel the little bugger make a sweet nest for itself right in the middle of my esophagus.
I tried drinkitg olive oil, and when that didn't work, Coke - anything to move the chicken downwards. Unfortunately, what fluids I tried to ingest immediately came right back up. By midnight, I was exhausted and went to bed.
On Friday morning, even though I knew by this time my efforts were futile, I tried drinking hot tea.
So, I told Yuula I needed to go to the hospital. We got to Mount Sinai Hospital around 2:45pm. I was interviewed several times by several different people with the same questions. Why was I here? Had I ever been to this hospital before? Did I have any allergies?
I was taken into a cubicle, where I was asked more of the same questions by more doctors and nurses. And then this snarky nurse came in to take blood and start me on an IV drip. It hurt more this time because she put the needle in my hand not in my arm. When Yuula asked me if I was in pain, the snarky nurse piped up and said, "Well, I did puncture her skin. That's going to, of course, hurt her."
They tried and tried to convince me to have an x-ray, but I refused and I said that meat wouldn't show up. So that was good. They told me that the machine had to be brought down for the procedure and that it wouldn't be very long.
Two hours later, at 6pm, I was still waiting. They told me the hold up was because of shift changes and that it wouldn't be too long now. In the meantime I had my own shift change. Yuula left and Brittainy arrived.
Thank god I brought my iPad with me! It was 3 more hours until they actually started the procedure, and during those hours I watched more Fringe on Netflix.
The procedure went on without a hitch. Well, sort of. The piece of chicken had been pushed down into my stomach, and that was good, but they said that my oxygen levels were "dangerously low" and that if I left right then I could have brain damage. Even though I wasn't too thrilled about staying overnight and being and being observed I agreed.
They put Brittainy and me into another cubical, and put me on a bed so I could sleep. Unfortunately, my oxygen levels were even lower in bed because I needed to cough up the phlegm in my lungs, and it was difficult if I was lying down. So, I said, okay, I will sleep in my chair. And I did! It was the most uncomfortable sleep I have ever had! I kept waking up over and over, trying to stretch out the painful kinks in my body.
One of the nurses came and told me that the doctor would come at 8am and check me out to see if I could go home. At 9am I was impatient to go home and see my cats and actually eat something!
I got home at 10am, peed, fed my poor cats, ate breakfast, had a shower, and went to bed. I don't know if I have been this happy to be home in my entire life!