When I first started getting ready to take my first trip to New York City, my routine was to put on a pair of heels and put on makeup, put on my sunglasses, and go about my day.
I was on my way to the airport when I started to feel sick.
I had no idea what was wrong.
I called my doctor, who told me I had a cold.
The doctor gave me a prescription for iced tea.
“You need to have your temperature checked to make sure your fever is normal,” he said.
When I got home, I had an open stomach and started vomiting.
My stomach was getting heavier.
I went to the bathroom to get on the toilet, and I was just about to take a sip when my phone rang.
It was the doctor’s assistant.
She told me to call her back.
As I got into the car, I looked down and I saw the phone.
It was the same doctor.
He said, “I have to come get you, honey.”
It felt like an eternity, but my stomach was still growing and growing.
By the time I got to the hospital, I was on the verge of death.
After two hours of vomiting, I couldn’t stand up and said, “Can you please take me to the ER?”
I was scared.
My stomach was swelling and it was making me nauseous.
I said, “I don’t want to die.”
The ER doctor said, “What do you mean, you don’t wanna die?”
I said I was afraid.
He said, I’m going to make you a coffee.
I was like, “You’re not gonna make me coffee.
What do you want me to do?
I said, Please?”
He said I needed a glass of water.
A nurse came by and I had to sit down.
I told her I had had enough of coffee.
She said, you need to make me a coffee and then I’ll get you to the coffee shop.
I asked what coffee shop, and she said Starbucks.
I walked into the store and there was a line of people.
I got the coffee and sat down at a table.
Then she said, Why do you need me?
I said because you’re the ER doctor.
She started telling me the whole story.
What the hell was going on?
I asked her.
She said I didn’t need to tell you everything because I was sick.
Then she asked, Can I have a doctor look at you?
I told them, No, because you told me not to tell me everything.
They took my temperature, they took my blood pressure, and they asked my breathing rate.
Then they gave me an X-ray.
I went back to my car and my stomach started growing again.
I didn,t know what was going to happen.
Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice from the back of the ER yelling, “Hey, hey, hey!
The nurse walked over to me and she told me she was going into surgery.
Within the first few minutes, I felt dizzy and had a headache.
But the next day, I went into surgery and the doctors gave me the news.
They were worried.
We have to find a new doctor to do my surgery.
This is going to be a life-changing experience for me, but also a really scary one.
The truth is that IHOBs are just like any other place.
They’re small and run by a few people who have an agenda.
Every day, you have to decide who is in charge and who’s in charge of the hospital.
You don’t need an excuse to leave.
One day I was at the ER and a woman came in.
She told me, “Your condition is really bad.
You have to have a CAT scan.
You need to go to the doctor.”
I said no.
Her assistant, who was the hospital’s resident nurse, said, What?
I looked up and I said the doctors are in charge.
That day, she went to see me and my mom and they told me my mom had a stroke.
They took me to her bedside and told her to rest.
When she got up, she had no pain in her legs and she was breathing normally.
At that point, I called her and told my mom, I need you to call the doctors.
She called me back and said I had been discharged and that she wanted me to get back in the room with her.
I don’t know what I did wrong, but I felt betrayed.
On the way to my appointment, my mom got me into a car.
Before we went to my office, I told my