The First Storm In Carolina

The First Storm in Carolina
"You can check in anytime you like, but you can never leave"
by: Brad Phillip Weisberg

It all started 9:00PM on Monday, September 14th, 2009. After any normal Monday, which features three courses and my daily visitation to the Undergraduate Library which can last for hours, I returned back to my apartment, hungry and debating two issues, what to eat and whether or not to go to the quiz night pledge event. I solved one problem with Totino's pizza rolls, panko shrimp, and sweet potato fries. However, I was still feeling under the weather and decided to sit out the event. 

I passed out around 8:00PM and before I knew it, I found myself awake. I woke up and sat in my bed shaking profusely, while my body was burning and my mouth could of passed for DANGER ZONE. I knew that I needed medical attention but was unsure as to how I would attain that. After a few phone calls to certain family members, I was lucky enough that one called the Non-Emergency security department and by the time I knew it I was put in touch with the paramedics. Now I will not lie when I say that I was WEAK, I could not get to one point from another without losing my balance. Somehow I managed to make my way into my private bathroom. That's where the paramedics finally found me, with my head perched over the bowl. The next thing I knew, I was in a stretcher, put into an ambulance and rushed to the UNC Memorial Hospital. I was forced to wear a duck-looking face mask just for precautionary reasons with the swine flu.

Arrived at around 10:25PM or so and of course the first thing that had to be done which is of course more important than my health was paperwork. It never fails, as individuals we're just a number and another statistic for some actuary to record. Already agitated and ready to tell the UNC Hospital how I exactly feel, I decided to keep it inside and go with the flow. FINALLY! I'm done with all this nonsensical paper work, GO GET ME A DOCTOR NOW! That was not reality for me, I was taken to the waiting room. Hours went by, some more hours went by, and by the time I knew it, it was nearly 4:00AM. I was getting very impatient, my conditions were worsening and was about to teach a lesson on marketing to the clerks at the information desk. I managed to get myself out of the wheel chair and walk myself over to the desk where I demanded that my vitals be rechecked as I felt that I was about to pass out right on their hospital floor. Having put an idea in their head and to save themselves from any legal troubles, they offered me a stretcher I could rest in away from the waiting room until my bed was ready in the emergency room. 5:00AM hits and finally my name is called! 

And now the emergency story adventures begin... I thought I was in an emergency room, but it sounded more like a prison. Next to me, I had Mr. WhiteBoy who managed to get into a confrontation with some people at the WaffleHouse and as a result had been shot in the elbow. Obviously not in much pain from all the morphine, he directed his efforts into scoring with the nurses, and stupid me only thought that happened in adult films. To the left of me, I had tobacco Joe who had one of those creative voice thingys. His reason for hospitalization was none other than being stabbed by his wife or ex-girlfriend, I cannot remember. The neighboring beds began circulating over and over again. From kidney stones to pregnant women to obnoxious older people who thought the emergency room would be the perfect place to have an argument about money and gambling. Please just get me the hell out of this sespool and into my own, private room. While in the emergency room which was a total of 15 hours or so, I was stabbed numerous times, had foreign objects go up my nose way up into my nasal cavity, people making me gag, and last but not least forced to spit up mucus from my stomach. Luckily to distract me from all of these events, my fraternity brother Boral surprised me and brought his BB charger so I could charge my now-dead Blackberry Bold. 

Finally at around 8:30PM, I was made aware that my room was ready and it was time to leave this room of problems. Still, the doctors were puzzled by my unknown diagnosis and I was even more frustrated that they wanted to perform more test. I arrived at my unit and flung myself into the bed, put my head under the covers and said goodnight to the world. By the time I knew it, i was awaken by the nurse who claimed she needed to take blood cultures at the doctor's request. Fine, have fun putting another needle in my arm, you nice nurse. It seemed as every hour passed, a different doctor or someone who worked for the hospital managed to make their way into my room to offer their expertise on my unknown case or help assist me with any problems such as getting in touch with my professors. It was already Wednesday and after numerous tests and two x-rays, I was still not diagnosed with any medical ailment, which worried me. What would any survivor's first thought be? Yep, "I wonder if it's some rare form of cancer". I mean I am at a higher risk than anyone else. However thankfully that was not the case. One thing they sure fixed was my bladder, with their bag after bag of Sodium Chloride fluid. My urine was clearer than a VSI diamond, I wonder if I could sell it? Alright, I'm fed up. I just want to go to sleep. I have no vision, no phone, I'm out of resources. Wait? How about straining your eyes for a little? Sounds like a great idea. I finished my night off by squinting through a few movies and episodes of various television shows. 

Wow, it's already Thursday. I've been here for almost four days and they still do not know what the hell is wrong with me. I woke up to a female figure sitting in a chair, only to discover it was one of my friends after putting on my glasses that must've magically appeared overnight. Nope, my friend brought them along with my Blackberry charger. Yay! Now I can at least sit on BBM all day, answering the numerous missed BBMs from the past day and a half. I forgot to mention that at this point, my flu test came back negative, my mono test came back negative, my strep throat test came back negative, and a small area of gray was found in my lungs, which meant I had a very small case of pneumonia but nothing that amounted for the very low blood pressure and striking fevers that I had been battling for the past few days. Now are you ready for this one, "We think you may have toxic shock syndrome". Excuse me? Turns out that was a negative too. By this time, I'm extremely agitated, sickened to the stomach by the pieces of crap that they offer to me that they called food, and ready to rip the I.V. out of my arm and escape from this place. I'm feeling better, maybe not 100%, but well enough that I do not need to be forced to keep urinating the clearest liquids at an hourly rate or get poked at 6AM every morning for "blood cultures". I'm on the phone with my parents hour after hour, transgressing my anger onto them and putting the courage into them to call the doctors and demand reasons for my hostage status. We'll my pep talk worked and an hour later, the doctor came in telling me as long as I can keep my fever down and force myself to eat/ drink, then I will be discharge tomorrow, in time for Rosh Hashana. YES! The day is getting better already. The next thing I know it is, my fraternity brothers are visiting, even better. The day has improved so much and I just want to close my eyes and for it to be Friday.

TGIF! It's Friday, YES! Hours away from getting out of this place and back into the normal world of an almost twenty-one year old college student. The I.V. is out of my arm, the fluids are no longer pumping, and the only thing holding me back is the official announcement from the doctors and the papers/ prescriptions. At around 3:00PM, it was time to say goodbye to the nurses and doctors at UNC Hospital. I was on my way home. JZ picked me up, thank god for nice people! It takes a bit getting used to having such nice friends after being brought up in an area as rich and cold as Boca. But wait! I'm back in my apartment and only to discover that I need to get my prescriptions filled. CRAP! Panic time, time to call the mother and father and get their suggestions. Wait, I know, I'll ask my friend to drive me over to a local pharmacy. After driving over to Rite-Aid, it was only minutes before I discovered that they did not have my prescriptions and I would have to get back to the hospital. I had Matt drop me off and told him I would walk back to campus. Hospitals just frustrate me to a point that I did not think was humanly possible. Sitting there for an hour while the pharmacist was joking around with his co-workers, handling other orders when there were other pharmacists to take care of them and talking to his dog's grommer on his cell phone, it took forever for me to get my drugs. Finally, time to rush back and get dressed for Rosh Hashana. 

Being hospitalized in a foreign hospital and by foreign doctors was an experience that I will never forget. This experience like every experience made me a stronger person. I never had to face medical problems on my own, I've always had my mother or father by my side. After being sick for six months of junior year, which was spent mostly at the children's hospital, I became fixated on having my parent's and siblings by my side, twenty-four hours a day. It was a challenge for me to be all alone in a hospital room without the humor of my father, love and care of my mother, and affection from my siblings. At times I felt myself defeated, regressing back to old habits, such as hiding under the covers. However, I realized that I am no longer a seventeen year old teenager, I'm almost a grown man as scary as that may sound for me. My mother and father are not going to be here forever, I'm going to have to be able to get through these challenges on my own. I just have to know that they're always with me, even if not in a physical structure, there always and will always be in my heart. Another challenge that I had to face was the realization that I'm only a number. I'm one of six million insignificant figure. At my hospital at home, or perhaps because I was facing a life threatening disease, I was of main priority. I would walk into the emergency room and be directed to a room within seconds. Having to sit for nearly four or five hours in a waiting room and another fifteen hours in an emergency room was very hard for me, I just wanted to ride this storm on my own boat, not a cruise ship. As a result of being detached from the world from five days, I now appreciate things more. Although this may sound quite dick, I did not fully appreciate my friendships. I actually questioned some and was put to the test this past week. After receiving email after email, text message after text message, and phone call after phone call, I began to realize that although at times it may seem like your friends are not "good friends" and do what's best for them, that they only want the best for you and are there at times of hardship which displays a stronger bond than being there for only victories if you ask me. During my junior year, I learned real fast who was playing me and who only wanted to see me survive and continue living my life. And this experience has once again reinforced those principles of friendship.

All in all, this past week has been one of mixed emotions. My first medical experience at North Carolina was one of sadness, happiness, and confusion. Being alone in a situation like this for the first time made me realize a lot, such as although people are far away and contact might be iffy with them, they're there for the times that matter and that proves companionship more than being only there for times of glory. Although I hope to never contract an illness again, I know that becoming sick is inevitable and now that I have managed to grow into an even more stronger person, I believe that my next medical experience at UNC or another place will be a more pleasant outcome.