Here is the post I was avoiding till later when I had pictures.
Trauma/Drama
There were positives and negatives this last weekend I went to costume College. This is a gathering of like minded individuals to share information and socialize. I learned a lot. Some of it was a waste of time.
All in all, it added up to a good experience. I am still debating whether it is an experience that is worth the money and energy spent. I do have a membership for next year but as they sell out every year, I figure I can sell it if I decide not to go.
I have had to separate this part of the trip so that it is treated fairly.
On Monday, the college has a tour/trip for LA’s fabric district. It is a little like SF Chinatown with all fabric stores. Lots of little and some big fabric stores. It is incredible. Fabric available everywhere but cheaper here and fabric that is expensive but that you wouldn’t find in the local stores. I saw some wonderful stuff and was somewhat disappointed in what I didn’t find. Kind of a mixed bag. The shopping wasn’t so bad. I think we got at the district around 10:30 am and the bus left at 3:30 pm. A total of 5 hours.
Here are little details that will be important later. I had trouble sleeping while at the hotel, Thurs-Fri-Sat-Sun nights. I had breakfast between 8 and 8:30. I had a chill scarf to keep me cool with me and I used it. I ate lunch 11:30ish, cheese burger and fries at McDonalds, a stable for me. I drank water, I think at least 30 ounces. I also ate half a food bar. I think the temp was around 85 degrees on a very sunny day. I didn’t really sweat. We were in and out of stores the entire time.
Once we get back to the hotel, we pick up our luggage add our new purchases, take a hotel shuttle to the Flyways bus to the airport to catch the 7 pm flight to Oakland. Dorothy, who is the wonderwoman I attached myself to, has done this before, arranged it all and told me we had plenty of time. Around 2:30, I was pretty much done. I still wanted to see everything but wasn’t interested in buying anything anymore. We made it back to the bus right before it left. I unwisely loaded my bags into the bottom of the bus including my backpack with the water and food. I had a splitting headache which is normal and expected. I figured I would wait the hour it would take the bus to get back to the hotel and then get my backpack and eat. I just zoned for that hour.
We got to the hotel, I jumped off the bus and headed to the bathroom. I was not feeling well. I NEEDED to eat. After the bathroom, I crashed against a wall and tried to find Dorothy. Everyone was gathered in the lobby doing a show and tell of their goodies. Dorothy was on the far side collecting our luggage and packing it. I called out to her and finally had to holler to get her attention. I motioned for her to come to me, because I couldn’t move anymore but she just thought I was letting her know where I was. I rested a little and hollered again with big motions of Come Here, I Need You. She came over and I am now crying because my energy is so low I can’t help it. I ask for my backpack which she brings me. I start downing more water, applesauce, cheese. I tell her I have everything I need, she can go back to backing. I know we have to leave to catch our plane. I am not getting better and now I am getting panicky. I am still going down. Dorothy comes over and I tell her I don’t know how I am going to be able to pull myself together to get to the airport.
She realizes that I am to the point of really needing help and she sits down with me. I am now hyperventilating, crying and trying to put food into me. I just can’t swallow much. Soon after this the Show and Tell breaks up and a few more people join us. I am at the point I have tried every I know to do and I am not getting better. Cathy and Joyce (or Annie, the woman was at my head and I don’t know which one it was) take over, get salt water, OJ and oranges into me and ice on my pulse points. They have seen this at Ren faire often and knew what to do. I am now shaking but this is a familiar feeling. It happens when I am low on energy and my body doesn’t know what to with the energy it has so it starts quivering. I can choose a body part to shake or it will just pick one at random and sometimes all over. I usually pick a hand and let it flop about. It looks a little like a seizure but it seems to pass and I am fine. I am still not doing well but it is beginning to feel like I know what is going on.
Unfortunately, I manage to look bad enough the paramedics were called. I figured I would talk with them and find out if what we were doing is what we should be doing or if it was something I should go to the hospital. That is not what happened. The paramedics had the attitude that if they were called, you will go to the hospital. I am still hyperventilating, still crying, I feel like I was in shock, have a buzzing feeling in my face and my hands/arms, but I did not think I had to go to the hospital. I needed food. And they wouldn’t listen. They kept telling me I needed to stop crying. I felt they didn’t know how to take care of me and they weren’t letting me take care of myself. I was beginning to get to a point where I could take care of myself. So I got angry and that calmed me down.
The emergency room is like all emergency rooms, they put you in a room and ignore you. My life wasn’t in danger so they didn’t need to pay much attention to me. There are lots of detail to this part of the adventure but I am tired of telling it all so I will hit the highlights. They took blood for tests and hooked me up to an IV.
I might post the test results later when I have time.
When the bag was done, the test were back. They came back pretty much normal, imagine that. All in all it wasn’t that bad a time at the emergency room Except for the fact that we were missing our plane. And the next one, and the next. And the last one. *sigh* I got released with enough time to catch the last one but due to not optimal communications, time was wasted and it was just too late. The official diagnosis was dehydration. I think it was a combination of overheating, dehydration, low blood sugar/energy levels and my wonder super sensitivities. What really helped was what was done for me at the hotel. That gave my body the energy it needed to get functional again. The bag of fluid at the hospital saved me from spending Tuesday feeling crappy but that was the only benefit. As people keep telling me, it is better to err on the side of caution and part of me can accept that. My heart is warmed that people cared enough about me to call the paramedics. I just am pissed that I knew I didn’t need emergency room level care and we missed the plane because of it. If it wasn’t for the plane and keeping Dorothy from work, it would have just been something to tolerate and get over.
While I don’t feel I needed to be at the hospital, it still was a bad thing to go through. I can see why someone would think paramedics should be called. I never want to go through what got me sent to the hospital again. From one point of view, it wasn’t that big a deal. From another, it was very traumatic.
I have proof I was at the hospital! Here are some pictures of the wrist band and the EKG pads. The pads were stuck to me in the ambulance and wires could be hooked up to run an EKG on me. The wrist band is my name and stuff. It has blood on it because they had problems getting the IV in.
To wrap the story up, Dorothy decided that she wanted to take the 4:45 am bus to the airport to catch the first flight to make it back in time for work the next day, so we stayed at the hotel for another night. I had the day off to recover (I knew the weekend would be hard on me, but no idea it would be this hard). She headed out at 4am and I got going around 11. My car was at a bart station so I just took Air Bart from the airport. I made it home around 4pm.
I am not going to do the fabric district tour again. I might hit the district in the winter if I am ever there at that time. I am still deciding about doing Costume College again. There are many classes I want to take so I am leaning towards a yes.
A few years ago, I decided not to leave the SF area of the bay during the summer because it was too hot. I had had too many bad experiences and decided not to risk it. I also stopped traveling because I got sick the entire time I was on the trip. I had people that could take care of me during these bad times. Lately I have been able to deal with the South Bay when it has been overly warm and have been ok. I have also traveled and been all right. I thought I could handle the LA trip. Now I think the edge has been closer than I thought. I don’t want to experience that loss of control. I don’t have anyone that can take care of me and I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself. Falling apart like that is something I will probably have to face again but I am going to do my best to minimize the times it will happen.
So the end result is that I am fine. No lasting damage happened and many people have stories to tell.
Glad you’re ok.
Sounds like you need to arrange to do the fabric difference with a bunch of like-minded local friends who do costuming (not that you know anyone like that) as part of a general Fabric District/Getty/Disneyland/whatever run.
During the winter.
oh hon… what an ordeal!!!
okay – a couple of things sprang to mind while I read this…
a) you flew… Notice how we took the train out there last month? This is because your’s truly has figured out that radical altitude changes make me sick as a dog… for at least a day on either side. I was beginning to think I couldn’t travel anymore w/o being ill – then we started going by car or train… and the gradual changes made it more bearable – I’m still “under the weather” for about a day – but not ‘vomitting and incapable of being in public’ as previously. Here’s the thing, yes, SF and LA are both Sea Level – but you went WAYYYY up in the plane, and then way back down… hence, radical altitude shift in short period of time. Given your systemic/metabolistic issues, this might just be one more nail in your coffin hon… something to think about.
b) Sit down and type up a card – today! – that says briefly and to the point what your issues are with blood sugar, etc. What happens (symptoms) and what it takes to get you functional again (i.e. not hospital but food, water, glucerna, whatever…) and letting the reader know that this is NOT unusual for you. Laminate this card. Keep it with you at all times. Then, the next time you are confronted with a situation where there isn’t anyone there who knows your history, and you aren’t in a position to articulate it (like to your companions or the EMTs) just hand them the damn card. Like an emergency bracelet, but more detailed.
c) take both arms and wrap them around yourself and give you a big hug from me… traveling sucks…
miss you!!
I appreciate the thought put behind this. Thank you.
On point a):
The time I got sick for every day I was away from home, it was a week between Xmas and New Years in Colorado and I traveled by train. And each day or two, I was feeling bad for different reasons. On of them was loosing my medication and going through withdrawal. It wasn’t so much that travel made me sick as the stress did and I couldn’t take care of myself because I was away from home and my options were sorely limited. That was the last time I have been to Colorado. That is also the reason I was so impressed that I did ok in Vancouver.
The main problem with the plane is uncomfortabilty. I got burned out on flights to Dallas TX for a yearly convention. I really hate the getting to the airport, ditching the car, the lines, the waiting, the cramped-ness of the plane, the dry air, the heat, getting from the airport to where you are going and the repeat of all this in reverse of getting home. That is why I turned to trains. I feel much more in control on a train. If I have trouble with the temp, I can go to another car, etc. The flight wasn’t so bad to LA. I have done it twice this year. I just have to tune out for a little over an hour and not pretend that flying is any faster than driving. It took me 6 hours to get home this time. I could almost drive that in the same time and have more control.
Point b): The card is a good idea but I have no idea what to put on it. My issues are not normal and if people know a little bit, then I don’t make sense to them. This is the problem with doctors. The problem this time was that I went down farther than what I knew how to deal with. My solutions weren’t working, or didn’t seem like it at the time. If the paramedic had shown up before I got all the OJ, salt water and ice, then I probably would have happily gone off with them, I was so lost. I didn’t know why things weren’t working when what really needed to be done was do more of the same things. From this side of it all, I can see that. But if I go there again, I don’t know if that is the right thing to do or not. The point about the shakes would probably be a good one to put on a card. There is just so many things that I would have to have a little set of cards to hand out. I need a manual for this body. My main focus is to not put myself in situations where that sort of thing can happen again. It wasn’t like I had to do what I did to get there. I am not going to faire this weekend because of the potential problems.
Point c): That felt good. Thank you.