Marching season is pretty much over now. Although the band made it to the finals in the area competition, they didn't make it to state. The kids were pretty disappointed. The parents were giving high fives when the kids weren't looking. Everyone is trying to catch up on their sleep and school work. Our last away football game was last week on Thursday. Of course it was an hour away. Mayhem #2 had a paper (rough draft) due on Friday so I quietly asked the band director if I could take her home after halftime since she doesn't play in the stands. He said no. Did I mention that she hadn't been able to work on the paper very much earlier because of all the band stuff? Oh well. She got to be about 12:30 in the blessed A.M. Her English class is second period and the teacher didn't even look at the papers. She just asked who had it done. There were five kids in the class that had it done. All the other band students decided to "turn it in" late and get 10 points off.
During third period the day went slightly out of focus. I get a call from the school nurse who says that Mayhem #2 is saying she can't see properly out her right eye. I pick her up and the doctor's office says to go to the ER. Mayhem #2 is very upset because she doesn't know what's going on with her vision. I was playing it calm, but only on the outside. The prayers for both of us was fast and furious. They check her out and we get to a room pretty quickly. The administrator rolls in her computer and admits us and takes my money. That receipt was the only paperwork I got from the hospital. The doctor isn't too far behind, but Mayhem #2 is feeling awful. She tries lying down and then sitting up and can't get comfortable. The doctor tries to look in her eyes with the lighted tool that is in her room, but decides it isn't bright enough. We find an empty room and try another tool. He decides that she needs to be discharged and sent to an opthamologist. One of the nurses tells me sort of where the doctor's office is and I realize I know where it is. They give me a paper with a map and address on it.
I start driving to where I think the office is and then I look at the map. That's not the same address and location the nurse and I had discussed. I spend 15 minutes driving around and around a six block area trying to find the right medical building and the right parking garage. During this time Mayhem #2 starts dying. She says, "Mom. You know how everyone kept asking me if I felt nauseous? I do now." By the time I get parked, her head is causing her excruciating pain. While we're waiting on the elevator she says she has to throw up. We step back into the parking garage for that event so that we would spare their carpet. We finally get to the office and it's the WRONG office. I should have gone to the one I thought it was. We get back to the car and are working our way out of the garage when the hospital calls to apologize for the confusion about which office we were suppose to be going to. I was not in the mood. Basically, I felt the hospital had just thrown us out.
We get to the right office, and I put Mayhem #2 in a chair while I speak to the ladies at the desk. She breaks for the bathroom that (thankfully) was right in front of her. I follow and we go through the above mentioned routine except we hit the toilet instead of the garage. I am no longer calm on the outside. I'm struggling very hard not to just lose it a cry everywhere. We wait awhile and she's asking me to shoot her because her head hurts so bad. We get called to a room and, after a detour to the wrong room with the wrong assistant, we get to the right one.
The lady asks questions (Hands me the trash can when we mention the throwing up.), and checks her eyes. The doctor does a preliminary exam and then has her eyes dilated and the pressure checked. He comes back and apologizes for having to shine very bright lights in her eyes. He explains that she has had an occular migraine with a visiual phenomenon. He's telling me that it's not a tumor or anything that will lead to a larger problem. She's reaching for the trash can. I'm reaching for the long red hair. He says it may never happen again or it could happen tomorrow. He sends us home with just a prescription for nausea medicine.
She collapses on the couch while I go to the drug store. She doesn't want the medicine. She just wants to sleep where it's dark. I put her in Mayhem #1's room after I put a dark sheet over the window. (Her room has two windows and it's only dark in there at night.) She sleeps for 12 hours. I just so happened to be awake when she woke up at 3:00am. We talked while she ate a few crackers and water. She doesn't even remember most of what happened. I'm just glad she's doing ok.
I think I should complain somehow to the hospital. They sure didn't make us feel good, or ease our fears. Heck, they didn't even give me a HIPPA paper.