In The Hands Of The ICU

Chapter 4: Change of Plans

I deserved this I thought, holding the bag between my hands, wiping bile from my face. I was still extremely nauseas as I laid my head back onto the pillow. Mum sat next to me, reminding me to remember what it feels like so I wouldn't do it again. I rolled up my sleeves, exposing the scars and cuts, up and down my arms. It felt like I was in a sauna or some one had increased the temperature on the heater. I was boiling and had to lift the blankets of off me. By this time I was in the adolescent ward where I was supposedly going to stay all night.

Couple of hours went by and we still hadn't heard anything from the blood work. My mum decided to leave around 11pm when I was drifting of to sleep. Nothing could of warned me for the long night ahead. Not long after I was awaken by one of the doctors. I was in a shared room with three other beds so she swung the curtain closed and we had a small talk. I told her about my symptoms and she seemed to be quite concerned about the ringing in my ears.

There I was again, throwing up any thing I had left in my stomach. One of the nurses came by and handing me an anti-nausea tablet that dissolved on my tongue. The taste was horrible, sweet but with a disgusting flavour. The one I had in the emergency room a month before, I remembered tasting a lot better than this one did.

I sat up in my bed in this dark room, looking out to the nurses desk. I could hear them saying my name. Whats going on, I thought. It didn't sound good. By the few words I could hear, I put them together and realised it was worse then I thought. Originally the doctor came in and told me my blood work is okay at the moment and that I wouldn't need to go on the drip. Oh boy, were they wrong. The doctor who saw me earlier, I heard her talking to poison control asking what they should do.

Unexpectedly, I had five different people come into my room, packing up my belongings and getting my stuff together to leave.

"Where am I going?" I pleaded for answers.

"We can't treat you here," one of the doctor's said.

It felt like they were treating me as someone who wasn't with it. I believe they should of told me that my levels were dangerously high and should of told me the truth up front. I mean I was expecting the worst anyway. I did it to myself and I knew there was going to be a price to pay.

Although, this was certainly the scariest thing I had encountered yet. I had a big oxygen tank hanging of the end of my bed and a resuscitation kit by my feet. They were getting ready for the worse and so was I.