Before I start, a warning - this is about to get very, very gross.
Let's see. I got three breathing treatments (at different times, of course). A chest x-ray. An EKG test. Another test where they also checked my heart that I can't even remember the name of. I got to breathe in radiation (a small dose, but still) and get shot up with still more so they could take pictures of my lungs - because the test they wanted to give me, a CT scan of my chest, they couldn't, as they couldn't inject me with the contrast dye they needed to. Why? Because no less than four people could not find a usable vein in the area where they needed one (or, pretty much anywhere). Oh, and they discovered this by poking me exactly seven times.
Which, let me tell you, I have never had a fear of needles, but that hurt like h*ll.
Especially the last one, which the doctor himself administered in my neck. I teared up a little, I have to admit. It hurt so bad. I've got a nasty bruise there now - it looks like I was scratched and then bitten by an angry one-toothed vampire, D & I agreed - and another one on my arm and my hand... Which they did eventually get blood from. Not that hand, though, the other one. On the bruised hand, at one point, there was enough blood coming out to spill over my fingers and onto the floor... Very disturbing. But that arm bled a lot (it bled from the elbow shot, too, on my arm, but not enough to take the necessary blood from or do me any good testing-wise; just like that hand).
Strangely, though, the other elbow has the bruising. Of course, that one hurt really bad going in, just like the neck one. But the nurse stopped faster, and seemed to, like, care. The doctor didn't. He just walked away while I was obviously in pain, and let the nurse try to "save" the vein. ... I'm sure he was needed elsewhere, but it still kind of upset me. But then, I was in a lot of pain.
This has been a horrible, horrible day. We were there from 7am to 2pm. 7 hours. Lucky number 7. Ha. :(
The doctor wanted to admit me, actually, but since he gave me a choice, I chose to go home - with the understanding that if my breathing worsens again, I'm to return and be admitted immediately, no waiting around or testing this time. Nine hours later, though, and I'm toughing it out at home. My breathing still isn't that great, but it's better than it was even this morning, so here's hoping. *crosses fingers*
Oh, and the diagnosis? Probably my asthma. (Which, I like, knew already, since I could hear myself wheezing, and have been for months now. *sigh*) But they're really not sure.
I have another test to take there, previously scheduled, on Thursday (and a new doctor's appointment tomorrow). But no blood work this time, so I'm good. Heh.
I'm going to sleep now, if I can (sitting propped up as I have to be in order to breathe properly). This day has been... oh, how to sum it up...?
In a lot of ways.