Diagnosis!

I can't believe I got in and out of Penn Hospital in 2 1/2 hours. Last time I went to the Emergency Room, I was there from 8:30 pm until 4:00 am.

Diagnosis: Spider bite of unknown origin, cellulitis & severe allergic reaction to one or both. They can't tell what kind of spider bit me (I KNOW it's not a recluse, I got bit by one of those before and it was all necrotic and gross) but they gave me an epinephrine injection, some anti-venom, an anti-biotic and prednisone. The cellulitis (basically infected bites) came from me scratching the darn things as well as whatever it was dumping an assload of bacteria on me when it bit me. 15 times. The only thing they can surmise is that either I sat in a freshly-hatched nest of them (where, I have no idea - lets be honest, I live in an urban city) or that the same bug just crawled all over me and had a nice little meal of my flesh. The reaction either came from the venom or from the bacteria I got dumped with. Either way, my final diagnosis was stupidity for not getting it looked at by a non-free-clinic doctor the first, second or even fourth time I got the stupid reaction. My entire wardrobe is now being washed in hot water (again) in case there's some sort of eggs in it (EWWWW) and I have to follow up and go to the allergy consultants tomorrow.

I also finally got myself an EpiPen. The doctor asked if I had ever had a severe reaction before or had family history, and when I said yes (to bee stings) and yes (my mom is allergic to bees as well and my grandmother is all but homebound with allergies and asthma), she looked at me like she was about to write "has three heads and spews green vomit" on my chart. Her exact words?

"Molly, I don't need to tell you that you shouldn't be walking around in this city, not to mention rural Virginia, without an injection kit. That's how people die of reactions."

I know. I was crazy. I figured I'd used the old one circa a billion years ago and have enough sense to stay away from bee's nests. Not to mention drunk people seem to be fascinated with an auto injector when they find out there's one in my possession. For those of you who didn't witness the incident at the Five Points house senior year, for the record, do NOT dare certain people(oh, I don't know, YOU, Mav) to give it to themselves. They'll shoot toxic waste into their thigh if they've been hanging around a keg since 1 pm. Try explaining how your old kit got used to UGA's Health Center without evidence that you were treated. You'll get a nice "this is a controlled substance, you could get into a lot of trouble for this" lecture that just might make you miss your Media Planning quiz.

So anyway. Yes, I'm fine. A little tired from 3 Benadryl and an Epinephrine injection, but otherwise A-OK.

I DID, however, get quite a show while I was in the ER. I saw the following:
1. An old man who had no idea where he was and his good-for-nothing daughter who was pissed off that Pop was keeping her from her beauty sleep because "you'll be fine in the morning". For the record, the man was suffering from dementia, and in a moment of clarity, had the presence of mind to request to go to the hospital because his leg was swollen with some sort of diabetic thing to the point of where I could hear the doctor go "oh my GOD that's huge". He kept having WWII flashbacks and his daughter kept telling him to shut up. I felt like walking over and reminding her that if it weren't for her father storming the beaches at Normandy, she'd be speaking German right now. But I restrained myself.

2. An Asian fellow came in right behind me and had clearly been in a bar fight. His story changed from "a car accident" to "I fell on the edge of the sink" to "I hit myself in the face". My male nurse yelled at him to "man up." He barely spoke English, and I'm guessing that his language-learning method was much the same of 8th graders - he could pronounce the F-bomb and call his girlfriend a C-word, but the rest was very fuzzy. He wanted to go home, but they said he had to get CAT scans. Why he wanted to go home when his eye was so swollen that the doctor couldn't even get his contact lens out was beyond me.

3. A very common sighting at Emergency Rooms: people who bring their entire family to the hospital for a minor problem. Seriously, if you are ever hurt, please - RESIST the urge to clutter up the waiting room. Hospitals are some of the dirtiest, most germ-infested places you will ever enter. For your OWN health, stay home and wait for your aunt/cousin/whatever to get discharged. Do not bring a CHILD to a hospital unless they have a dying relative, is a patient themselves or is over the age of 7 and is welcoming a new sibling. If you need to go to the ER, bring ONE representative/person with you. I guarantee you, if you need to go to the Emergency Room, the neighbors will keep an eye on your kids.

4. There is not ONE healthy choice in the vending machines. And we wonder why America is the fattest nation on Earth.

5. The Gatekeeper Theory: be nice to the front desk, the security guard, every nurse you meet, and your technician. They control when you see the doctor, and they can disable your call button.

6. While I appreciate that we, as a society, want to catch substance and domestic abuse at its first sign, I do not need Psych to visit me to assure them for the fifth time that no - no one has been hurting me. I also do not need to talk to anyone about a drinking problem since my large bruise was due to a drunken mishap. I'm 28. I'm single. It's summer. I found a shopping cart. End of story. Yes, they still gave me the domestic abuse and Alcoholics Anonymous 1-800 numbers. Keep in mind - I WAS SOBER tonight and was NOT there about the bruise.

7. There was poop on the wall. I have now visited TWO hospitals in the Philadelphia area and spotted poop on the wall. Again, germs. They're everywhere in hospitals. MRSA is everywhere.

8. They never asked for my ID or insurance information. I'm thinking I'm going to wait to see IF a bill shows up and THEN submit my info.

9. There was NO George Clooney in this ER. No Noah Wyle. No Croatian hottie named Luka either. Dammit.