I'm finding out that my parents are very weird when it comes to Valentines day. Here's how it went down this year:
Dad: goes out to one of those expensive candy stores and buys my mom those heart shaped boxes of chocolate (the kind where you don't know what you're getting until you take a bite and are left with a really weird taste in your mouth because you picked a bad one)
Mom: goes to a gas station and buys dad a couple of Reese's peanut butter cups
Wait.....what? Shouldn't that be the other way around?
Today marks the day of when we had our little hospital scare last year. I had woken up in the middle of the night the day before with this weird stomach pain and it wouldn't go away. After about half an hour of rolling in pain, It finally stopped long enough for me to fall asleep and woke up the next day feeling fine. I went into the kitchen and grabbed Poptart and ate it. But as I was eating it I started to feel the pain again. Once I was done with the Poptart the pain was still there and it was getting worse. It got so bad at a point that I couldn't move at all without a giant pain shooting through my insides. I had managed to make my way downstairs and found my mom with tears in my eyes. She took one look at me and rushed me to the hospital, all the while I was feeling like I was going to throw up. We went to emergency room and they took some tests as my sister, mom and I watched The Mask on the television. The doctor came in and told us what I had; acute pancreatitus. It is when your pancreas is inflamed and the digestive liquids that were in it were getting out and into my lungs. I was taken to a nearby hospital in the middle of the night (Feb. 14) where an alarm was going off every few minutes and people were just standing around in small groups doing nothing about it (which just kind of made me a little scared because my mom had gone home to grab a few things so I was all alone for a while).
I was hyped up on drugs most of the time or sleeping so I don't remember much, but I do remember that that day I was given a teddy bear for Valentines Day by them and I still have it today sitting in my room (even thought it doesn't go with my whole underwater death theme (that's another blog posting waiting to happen)). I also remember how for the two weeks I was in the hospital, that it didn't matter whether I was nearly on my death bed or not, my mom and I were going to watch Grey's Anatomy. One of the nurses commented that she wished working in a hospital was nearly as fun as it is in that show.
I also remember that one day, one of the people didn't order the food for the kids on time, so everyone on that floor had to go with this weird sugar substitute (when i say food, i mean those nutrition bags hooked up to the IVs, because I wasn't allowed to eat at all during this, which really made me thirsty). My mom was so mad, and it only got worse when they were sending in students and other people who really didn't know what they were doing to explain to my mom how it wasn't just me who went without food. Finally My mom had enough and told those doctors that every other parent was probably just as furious and wanted to know how many doctors were going without food because we didn't get to eat. After that they started to wait until my mo had left the room to come in and start telling me things, which i didn't understand because I was all drugged up and sleep deprived.
Throughout the entire time of this, for some reason, I kept waking up at 3 a.m. I don't know why it happened but the tv would always be left on because i would fall asleep watching it (because what else can you do when you're tied to a bed for 2 weeks) and I would be up just in time to watch The Little Mermaid. Disney was only showing it at very late times and for only half an hour because it was old and they were getting ready to take it off the air. I liked being able to watch it but my nurses would come in and tell me that I needed to sleep and not to stay up late.
There are probably more stories about this but I can't remember them now. The important thing is that I'm all better and the only remnants of ever being there are the teddy bear, this backpack i got to carry my IV stuff in (for a latter blog entry) and this little dot of a scar in my arm from where the IV used to be that reached all the way from above my elbow to right next to my heart.