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Part IV: Story of a Sick Housewife


I need to clear the air…

     I have had a number of things bothering me lately. (This has been apparent in my; Story of a Justified Housewife & Story of a Hypochondrias Housewife.)Not only have I been battling the doubt of a dear brother and hypochondria brought on by a drug dealing mother, but I have had many people coming to me with reservations concerning the end of my story. Countless people have asked me “How are you going to end this story with a BANG?” and “What if people are disappointed with the diagnosis?” Pretty much they are saying the ending of my story will be a let down to you readers.

     This has been on my mind constantly and caused me a great deal of stress. The last thing I want is one of you blog stalkers (I love me some good blog stalking!) reading the last part of my Saga and thinking “WHAT A WASTE OF TIME!!!” So, no matter how anti-climatic the ending may seem to you, I need you to understand that you did not waste your time and more importantly…I ALMOST DIED! {I was not told this by a professional, but I am pretty sure it was a close call.} In conclusion, this tantrum is to let you know that when you finally read the ending I expect you to leave words of shock, sympathy, and admiration.



     As I laid there in the ambulance, clasping the barf bag to my chest, I couldn’t help thinking “it’s just my luck that the EMT working on me; has not only seen my -Ahem- chest region but, also knows my uncle. Out of the 200,000 people living in Scottsdale how did I mange to get someone who knew my UNCLE? {May I remind you again that he lives in Prescott.} What are the odds?” 

    As I continued to lay there, slowly dying, the EMT, Jared, decided that since he knew who my uncle was… I would obviously want to start chatting. WRONG. HE WAS WRONG! What about that situation made him think I wanted to start swapping stories and making connections? As Jared continued to talk to me I learned 3 things.

  1. He didn’t know my uncle directly, just someone who worked for him! {Thank goodness}
  2. My uncle had just moved back from Utah to Prescott… AND
  3. He knew more about my Uncle than I did.

    While Jared continued to talk, I started making a mental note of all the really personal things he knew about me. You see, the Emergency Personal wanted to know about every bodily function; both past and present. I was even asked repeatedly about my –ahem- relationship with my husband. {You get what I am saying right? Please don’t make me go into further detail} They basically wanted my soul! I couldn’t help but become paranoid, thinking, “Jared may mention my personal details to either Uncle Seth or his said friend.” Becoming frantic, I cut Jared of mid-sentence, pulled the oxygen mask off my face, and practically shouted “You can’t talk to people about my health!” He must have known what I was thinking, because he smiled at me kindly and informed me there were laws to protect my information.

THAT IS RIGHT BIOTCHES! THERE ARE LAWS! My uncle won’t be hearing about my hypo-thyroid, asthma, or even my past problems with anemia ANYTIME soon. Bwaahaha. After I had calmed down I decided that, even though I could have thrown daggers at Jared while he chatted away, I liked him. He may know who my uncle is… He may know what my boobs look like… He may know every detail concerning my health… but he won’t be telling a soul. Or I will SUE. Amen.



      Although the hotel was only a mere 3 miles away from the hospital, the ambulance driver (who I am 90% sure is a Sadist) thought my situation wasn’t dire enough to turn on the siren and get me there quickly. I understand my vitals were fairly stable but, I felt like my chest was imploding!

How more serious did things need to be?  

    After what seemed to be a 30 minute drive, we finally pulled up to what I would like to call HEAVEN (aka Scottsdale Osborn Hospital). The back doors to the ambulance were thrown open, 3 people in scrubs grabbed onto my gurney, and I officially felt like I was on the set of ER. The leader of the scrub brigade started asking Jared about all my information. Stats, temperatures, numbers, symptoms, and names, were being thrown back and forth between EMT & Nurses. The hospital is a Trauma 1 hospital so they get down to business. Once I was rolled into the examination room I was quickly transferred to a bed, dressed in a hospital gown, and covered with a heated blanket. It was magical.

Scottsdale Osborn

Scottsdale Osborn

      Even though the pain hadn’t lessened I was finally warm, clothed and had my husband back by my side. {He did not ride in the back of the ambulance like in TV shows} Immediately, the head nurse of the ER came into the room and started asking for details. After explaining to her I was dying, and my whole torso was being stabbed into tiny pieces  by a giant knife she did something beyond gruesome. She decided to…………. press down on my stomach! After her pushing down on my abdomen three times and me making incoherent noises of pain, you think she would have stopped. NOT THE CASE. She continued to press down anywhere and everywhere from my neck to my knees. While she pushed on me she would ask “Does this hurt?” and I replied to all 87 pushes “Ugh Ahhhhh YES!” This got Rebecca (the head nurse) and my relationship off to a bad start. What she did to me could only be compared to one thing – Chinese Torture.

    After Rebecca physically abused me, she went back to asking hundreds of questions. 10 minutes of me reporting, again in detail, my medical history and my symptoms, I was finally okayed for drugs. Then, a male nurse by the name of Ethan Goss walked over to me, switched out my now cold blanket with a new heated blanket, and informed me I was going to be getting Morphine. Finally, Ethan grabbed my IV, pushed a syringe of morphine into my vein and, as our eyes met, I felt love. {Brotherly love} Ethan became my hero.

    The questions and pain continued, but Nurse Ethan was always there with a brotherly pat, an arm squeeze, and a word of encouragement. At one point the pain was so bad that I asked Head Nurse Rebecca if I would be alright (which was code for- could I really be dying?) And she replied with, “We aren’t sure of anything until the doctor comes in.” WTH??? What kind of bed-side manners was that? LIE TO ME! Right when I was about to screech, “I don’t care what you know or don’t know, Re-bec-ca, TELL ME I’M GOING TO BE FINE…NOW!” Ethan quickly listed off what he thought could possibly be wrong. (none of which were life threatening) He was an Angel.

    Eventually, Dr. Jonas {and the Whale} came into my room and examined me. This included more abdomen abuse, and other invasive exams that were embarrassing and beyond painful. Dr. Jonas {and the whale} told me he didn’t have a diagnosis yet and ordered blood tests, internal and external ultrasounds, and a CAT scan. As I waited to go to my first test, Ethan walked into my room, administered more Morphine (1 dose wasn’t cutting it) and explained he was leaving for the day.


      Up until that moment I hadn’t cried once. I may have screamed and yelled but there were no tears. When Ethan told me his shift was over and wouldn’t be here anymore, I turned my head towards Michael in anger and said “thanks”.  I felt betrayed. When he walked out of the room I couldn’t contain my tears. It was like I had lost a loved one! Michael looked at me like I needed to be admitted into the Looney bin, but tried consoling me anyways. As I hiccupped and gasped for air, all I could say repeatedly was “Why does Ethan have to go? ETHAN *hiccup* Ethan *hiccup* ETTTHHHHAAANNNN!”

I am dead serious. Ask Michael. I was completely distraught.

    As I continued to bawl my brains out, Nurse Rebecca came in and asked what was wrong. When I informed her I was upset because Ethan was gone she again amazed me with her kindness and said, “Ethan isn’t that great.”  She then followed this statement with, “Now I am going to insert a Catheter.” These two things combined, demolished any feeling of gratitude I had towards Head Nurse Rebecca.

Head Nurse Rebecca-if she were a Cartoon


    Eventually I was whisked away for testing. Let’s sum it up. The ultrasound technician (Luis the creeper) made terrible faces while looking at the screen and let me know there was blood surrounding my kidneys, diaphragm, liver, lower intestines and uterus. My first thought was…. DUH! Isn’t blood everywhere in your body? Then, smart Keighley appeared and remembered “blood is only supposed to be in veins”. At one point during the ultrasound Luis went looking for an ultrasound specialist, that happened to be in town from back east, to take a look at the pictures. Of course, this made me panic. Why did he need a specialist to look at my pictures? Next, there was the CAT scan. It was fairly uneventful (other than the iodine dye) and didn’t give me any answers.
     This was the point were I finally called my mom and dad. I wanted to be sure it was something other than a flu virus or bad menstral cramps. Hearing I had loads of blood throughout my torso made me feel like all my dramatics were justified. After I hung up the phone, Dr. Jonas {and the whale} appeared and gave me some serious news. “Looks like you will be staying with us for a few days! Let’s get you admitted and schedule a time for surgery.”
(I really did want to finish today. I just couldn’t)
I just want to give a shout out to a few of my main peeps down at Scottsdale Osborn ER. 
Mustache Jon- Thank you for helping me with my nightgown, walking me to the restroom, and making me pee in a tiny cup even though it wasn’t necessary. Also, thanks for calling me sweetheart. It made me feel cute.
Maurice- Thanks for not only teaching me how to use the hospital phone, but for sanatizing it. It was really interesting learning about all the germs phones have.
Sharon- Thanks for finally giving me water, after begging and pleading for a drink. {Even if it was for the CAT scan.}
Luis- You creep me out. I’m sad you were my ultrasound technician.
Ethan- I miss you every day. I want to come visit you, but I think that would be really awkward.  Love you.
Rebecca- I have nothing to say to you.
  • August 17, 2009 - 10:11 pm

    Alexa - OMG!!! Ky that is hilarious, and I mean that in the most sincere way possible! And boy do I need to exchange words with Rebecca! No one… and I mean no one treats you that way!!

  • August 17, 2009 - 10:36 pm

    Lara Stowell - COME OOOOONNN! You’re stringing me along. It’s not fair.

  • August 18, 2009 - 12:22 pm

    Keighley Fleming - Lara- I know I am totally dragging it out! I have to make it as dramatic as possible. You will find out the total diagnosis tomorrow, meet my surgeon, and be introduced to a nurse worse than Rebecca.

    Lex- Rebecca does need a talking to. Lets send her hate mail!

  • September 17, 2009 - 8:35 pm

    Julie - Hi Keighley!

    Your story had me in *stitches* tonite! You are too funny! You are an awesome writer. So glad that you didn’t die … I know *exactly* how you felt! I’ve been *there* before. ;)

    Your surgery story reminds me a little of one that I wrote last Fall when I had eye surgery – basal cell cancer of the eyelid – no fun. Can’t even tell now, thankfully. I’m like you, love explaining all the details. Mine isn’t quite as humorous as yours, but you are welcome to read it! I believe it was my 1st or 2nd post on

    I’m also an interior decorator and really love the floral arrangements that you all do. I just posted an Autumn tablescape on if you want to check it out.

    {Hugs} Glad you are feeling better now and that’s over with!


  • September 18, 2009 - 12:15 pm

    keighley - HEY Julie!

    Thanks so much for reading! I am totally checking our your story. I love all drama. (As you can tell from my story) I hope things are well with you, and hope to keep in touch.


  • September 19, 2009 - 10:26 am

    Story of a Housewife: WHAT AN ONION! - [...] remember that one time I told you that really short story? The time I was sick… here. Here. Here. Here. And here. Well something happened the other night which relates to that tiny little story.  {It [...]

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