The Third Degree

Pneumonia Strikes

I woke up around 11am on Saturday morning (9/1/07) with a scratchy throat and some congestion, but not all that different from any morning for a person with allergies. The woman had gone to her parent's house, and I had planned on spending the day catching up on some tasks I had been putting off for a while.

My first task, was to fix the flat tire on my car I had gotten earlier in the week, compliments on the Philadelphia Department of Streets. After 30 minutes of wrestling with the tire in the mid-day heat, I was feeling a little tired and dehydrated. I took a minute to sit down and drink some water to regain my energy. Within an hour I had gone from feeling a little tired to extreme fatigue, a very high fever, splitting headache, and shortness of breathe. I honestly have never felt so horrible in my life. I dialed 911.

About 10 minutes after I called for an ambulance, there was a pounding on the door. I struggled to walk to the door and open it for the EMT. As I fell to the floor after opening the door for the EMT's, Mackenzie (our dog) went charging towards the glass storm door barking at them, thinking they were trying to hurt me... With little energy I had left I grabbed her collar and held her back away from the door. The jaded EMT walked into the house and looked at me like I was some type of crack addict overdosing. I know the guy has a tough job, I'm not cut out to do that job, but he did choose his profession. The EMT's helped me onto the stretcher and loaded me into the ambulance. They asked me if I preferred any specific hospital, I replied "the closest one." He gave me some oxygen and we were off to Episcopal Hospital. I don't remember much else from the ambulance ride except that the EMT asked me a lot of questions.

When I arrived at the hospital I remember feeling a little bit better from the oxygen the EMT gave me, but as soon as I entered the Emergency Room a very large man (nurse) ripped the mask off of me and told the EMT that I didn't need oxygen, before the EMT even got a chance to explain what my condition was. I was then taken into an office with a doctor who asked me the same questions that the EMT asked me, for the most part. The doctor took my vital signs (temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, etc.) The doctor said, "103.6 degrees, that's pretty high." He also mentioned my blood pressure and heart rate were high, but I can't remember the figures. I then had to wait in the waiting room for what felt like a lifetime, but was probably about 10 minutes. 

As the ridiculous soap opera went to commercial break I heard someone yell out, "James Van ... uh Arts... dull" I raised my hand, as I was so short of breathe I could hardly speak. The crass nurse wheeled me into a small room with a bed and told me to get undressed and put on a robe. I asked for her assistance getting into the tall bed, she scoffed, turned and walked  out of the room as she mumbled something under her breathe. I was under the illusion that when you go to a hospital, they help you get better there... am I wrong? Or did I just have the worst luck that day, meeting the most jaded people in the profession?

About an hour, an IV, and a couple other needles later I was greeted by a very nice doctor. I proceed to answer the same set of questions, once again. Does anyone in the medical profession communicate with each other? Maybe if someone wrote down all the answers to these questions the first time, and put them with my chart I wouldn't have to keep answering them, and maybe these people could save some time, and the wait wouldn't be so bad... Just a thought.

The iPhone's camera finally came in handy. I apologize for the blurry pictures, but I was a bit out of it...

After the doctor finished with the repeat Q&A session, she informed me that I most likely had Pneumonia, but she would need to get some blood work and Xrays done before she could be certain. As the day went on, I was given anti-biotics, blood was taken, and Xrays were shot. I tried to sleep in between nurse and doctor visits, but the fluorescent lights above and the nurses station outside my room proved to be to much of a distraction.

Another great shot...

So as the day turned into night, the doctor informed me that I had a "massive infection" in one of my lungs. She told me that I would need to stay the night for observation and be given another dose of anti-biotics tomorrow before I could switch to the oral medication. But instead of being moved to another room in the hospital, the doctor said that they were all out of beds there, and I was going to be transferred to Temple's main hospital on Broad & Ontario Street. Around 8pm 2 very nice EMT's knocked at the door to transfer me to the other hospital. 2 Ambulance rides in one day, pretty exciting. I don't remember much from the first ride, but this one I was a bit more conscious, which made the ride through North Philadelphia more interesting. The EMT proceeded to ask me, yes, the same questions I've been asked all day long... What's wrong with our health care system, it takes the term "double entry" to a whole new level.

Once I arrived at Temple University Hospital, I was greeted by a man taking his smoke break. The man said, " come on in, we've got women, we've got men, we've got drinks and any drug you can think of..." in a New Orleans Jazzer meets Circus Carney kind of voice. It was very inviting in that freaky kind of way.

Once in my room, my father (Jim Jr.) who had driven an hour up to the hospital, was kind enough to bring me a fresh WaWa hoagie, a TastyKake and an Arizona Tea. I had gone the whole day without eating anything. I was planning on eating something after I changed the tire, but needless to say... I think I inhaled the hoagie, because I don't remember chewing. The nurse noticed I was eating and tried to offer me the "dinner platter" but I graciously told her that I would stick with the WaWa hoagie.

The next day, around 9am I was served breakfast. Scrambled eggs, a muffin, coffee, oatmeal, and juice. I was so hungry that I decided to take the risk of eating hospital food; what was I thinking? The scrambled eggs tasted like they were rotten pigeon eggs that were watered down to make more portions (not that I know what good pigeon eggs taste like), rancid doesn't even begin to describe them. I stuck with the muffin and juice, I figured the oatmeal was even worse than the eggs. After breakfast I went through another series of tests and blood work. The kind doctor informed me that I would not have to stay another night, and I could return home once my anti-biotic IV was finished. I informed the woman that I was being released and she came to pick me up in the afternoon. All-in-all, it was the worst weekend of my life.

I'll leave you with this one thought... 

Pneumonia fucking sucks. 

No Comments Posted.

Comments Closed.

Latest Posts

• GoBama! (Nov 4, 2008 - 8:14am)
• A Sunday Drive in Brazil (Aug 13, 2008 - 1:30am)
• Bicycles For Sale (Mar 15, 2008 - 7:30pm)
• Alphabet Soup: Understanding Accessibility [Part I] (Feb 26, 2008 - 10:56pm)
• Do Not Call At Work List (Feb 16, 2008 - 3:02am)

About The Third Degree

The Third Degree is James Van Arsdale III's personal blog. Topics covered will range from web design and development techniques to rants about cabs hitting cyclists, and everything in-between. I encourage all to join in on the discussions, or contact me directly.