My friendship with my tonsils ended last Tuesday. I had them removed because I was getting way too many infections, plus I don’t want an infection while I’m overseas, so I decided to depart with them.
Me being a nursing student and a bit of a freak, I did ask my surgeon if I was allowed to keep them in a jar as a souvenir. He said no, because turns out they had an infection and bits of food plus it’s a biohazard.
They also must have put me on good happy drugs, as I was not the grumpy, bitchy patient that I usually am. My mum was surprised and even my dad when he came to visit me a few hours later. I miss those happy drugs, because right now my throat kills like a bitch and pain killers aren’t really helping.
But a downer and it’s making it hard on the recovery side is my diabetes. Being diabetic, I technically have to eat or my sugars get screwed up. They had been travelling alright, a bit on the low side until last night. I decided to try and eat a burger because I was on a low food binge and eating bread helps get rid of the scabs. I drive to Hungry Jacks, get home and start to eat, when all of a sudden I told my sister that something wasn’t right and went to the toilet to try and vomit (now I’m not a person to vomit, I’m more of a spitter). I told my sister to get my blood sugar machine thinking maybe that I am having a bad low, no turns out it was a BGL of 21. I have been 21 before and haven’t felt that bad so I got the ketone strips out, ketones 3.2. Oh no!!!! What am I going to do? It’s just me and my sister at home, so I told my sister to call my grandma and I call the hospital. I’m feeling a bit woozy and sweaty so I’m on the floor of the bathroom talking to the diabetic registrar, explain how I was 4 days post op, going good but feeling shiity, and now I have 3.2 ketones, what do I do. He told me to bolus (which of course I had done), wait an hour and then call up again.
Grandma comes, I’m still lying on the floor, we watch TV for an hour and test my BGL again. BAM its up to 25.4 mmol, Ketones atleast have gone down. I called the registrar again told her I was still feeling shitty, still had a bit of ketones. So she (because turns out I was speaking to the peads registrar before) said best thing to do is come to hospital to have some potassium and fluids and check the throat.
Off we go, my grandma,me and my sister (She hates hospitals, but because I didn’t know what was going to happen, she had to be dragged along) to hospital. We get to emergency and there is a massive line. I start to feel woozy again, so I test my sugars and it has dropped to 20mmol now, finally get called up and start telling my story when I had to tell the triage nurse that I had to stop talking because if I was to continue, I was about to pass out. She took me in, I continued my story while she was taking my BP. While I was speaking she kept telling me to wiggle my toes, and she also kept swapping arms. Then she got up calmly and paged for a bed. I asked her what was wrong, before once again stating that I was about to pass out and she said nothing was wrong, but I could tell, perhaps it’s that nurses instinct we get so I asked my BP. It was 70/75 so very low. Here I was lying on a bed in triage because I had low BP and I was going into DKA. Because triage is so small and it was busy my grandma and sister got asked to wait outside, until I got put into a cubicle. First cubicle I was in was fine, was there for a few minutes, then I got moved to another cubicle where they gave me some fluids and then I got moved again. It was a bit like musical beds because the next room I got moved into turned out to be the psych room. I was lying on the bed, the room was empty, there was no suction, no oxygen, no buzzer and my sister was leaning on a foam mattress. So my sister asked the nurse if we were in the crazy persons room, he said yes, then started to walk out but turned around and said don’t worry you’re not crazy, we just don’t have enough room. We had a bit of a giggle. I got moved for a last time to a recliner chair where my sister and I just played the game of guess how long till my fluids run out. It was a bit of fun, but hey she did get her homework done.
So a few hours later and a few arterial blood gases later, turns out my ketones had cleared, I had no infection in my tonsils and I just wanted to escape from hospital. So I did.
Saturday night well spent.