Unfiltered Story #267040

I’ve always had asthma, but it’s getting worse and worse for some reason. On a spring day last summer, I got breathing difficulties and my emergency inhaler did nothing. By night it had evolved into a full-blown attack and was still worsening. As I had lost the ability to speak, my mum called the emergency line for me, and we were advised to drive to the hospital straight away, but we were also told, that we should stop and call an ambulance if I stopped breathing completely. We got to the hospital by midnight, and I was placed in the waiting room. They then took some blood samples and then left me in the waiting room for THREE hours without being seen by a doctor or given any kind of medication. It was now almost three in the morning, and I had not slept for more than 24 hours. The exhaustion and lack of oxygen eventually got to me, and I came very close to passing out. My dad went to the nurses station and demanded that I be seen NOW. A nurse gave me a bed a mask with medicine, and it finally helped. I was wheeled to the lung ward, where I had to lie on a bed in the hallway, as they didn’t have any more rooms. about 45 minutes later I am finally seen by a doctor. The doctor asks how I am (poorly), and about my symptoms leading up to the attack.

Doctor: Your infection score is perfect. I understand, that you have had some fever?

Me: Yeah.

As I am a bit out of it, my mum intervenes:

Mum: She still has a fever.

Doctor: Oh. I just have to check the journal, then.

(He leaves for five minutes.)

Doctor: Well, your infection score is normal. We would normally x-ray the lungs to make sure everything is okay in there, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. You must not underestimate the role that the psychology can play during an event. I could release you? Maybe we should take an x-ray. No, I think we could release you. As long as you’re under constant surveillance for the next 24 hours. (He looks quizzically at my mum, and she nods). Okay, you can go home.

It is five in the morning, and I just want to go home and sleep, which isn’t really possible in the hallway of the lungward, where you can hear people coughing up their lungs constantly. And frankly, I wanted to get far away from that doctor. He was very wavering, and I didn’t feel like he knew what he was doing, So my mum and I went home, and I finally got to sleep. I still had breathing difficulties, but I wasn’t in acute danger. My fever continued to climb, eventually hitting 40 degrees celsius or 104 fahrenheit, so two after the visit to the hospital I was diagnosed with a nasty lung infection by my own doctor. So much for it being psychological!