On Thursday, November 27th, I walked into the Wellness Center on campus to see a nurse. By the time I had left, we had decided I needed to go to the emergency room as soon as I could. I called my friend to see if she would come with me, and after I picked her up we were off to the hospital to figure out what was going on. Nervous and anxious, I had no idea what to expect. I got my bracelet and sat down to wait. The whole time I just wanted to know what was happening, so many thoughts were going through my head, but I had no actual clue as to how severe my condition was.
After some tests and blood work, I was admitted to the ER for further inspection. Lots of waiting and an ultrasound later, I had my answers. Now I know you're all curious to know what happened, but for the sake of my privacy, I'll just let you know I was admitted to the gynecological wing of the hospital. I was put in a pretty nice room with a terrible view, and at that point, all I wanted to do was cry. I had called my mom and she was on her way as fast as she could manage from her home an hour away, my sister with her, too. My best friends had sat with me in the ER and were on their way back from getting food and doing some homework. They brought me some clothes and my blanket from home because no one knew exactly how long I would be there.
I was settled into the room, being poked and squeezed every hour or so for vitals, and still not sure exactly what was going on. I was told I was going to be receiving four sets of injections that would help me and hopefully solve the problem at hand. When they warned me about the side effects, I took it lightly...never take it lightly. I had my first set of injections that first night, and thus began the longest eight days of my life.
The first few days were mild, the doctors came in very early to push on my stomach and listen to my heart and lungs, and tell me the plan for the next day. Everything was day-by-day. I didn't know if I was going to stay another night until I saw my doctor in the morning, making it really hard to let people know what was going on. The last few days were incredibly difficult. I was in so much pain, I was tired, and I just wanted to go home. I didn't cry much (surprisingly) during my stay, but in the last few days, I broke down. I was done and I just wanted the whole thing to be over. I took solace in my incredible friends and family.
Something else that happened while I was in the hospital was having the chance to see how incredibly lucky I am to have the people I do in my life. So many of my friends came to visit me and would check in on me every day just to make sure I was alright. Coworkers and professors would ask me how I was, it was eye-opening for me. Everyone always asks "who would visit me if I were in serious condition and in the hospital?" Well, I know now. I know exactly who is going to come see me, and who is going to check in on me. I know now that I am cared for and loved by so many! As someone who struggles with anxiety and has self-worth issues, it was incredibly reaffirming and wonderful to see just how much people cared for me.
I know I said it was the longest eight days, and it was, but it was also an incredible experience. My doctors and nurses were absolutely phenomenal and I could not have wished for a better staff to oversee my treatment. The pain and discomfort I experienced was completely eclipsed by the love and support I have received from my family, friends, and peers. I would not wish this sort of experience on anyone, but if you find yourself in my position, and in the position of so many others, just know that you, too, will make it through. I found strength in my loved ones, but I know so many others can find strength simply in themselves. It was eight days of pain, but also eight days of complete love and support, a very long eight days.
