You can find Part 1 here.
After getting checked in and triaged, we began to wait. And wait. And wait. To this day I am thankful for the three friends who sat with me hour upon hour. You’ve never seen four happier people in an ER waiting room before. We were chatting and laughing and having a grand old time.
Finally, four hours after arriving, I was escorted to a room. Strike that. It wasn’t a room; it was a storage closet with a stretcher in it. As Erin and I waited for the doctor to show up, we joked about tossing supplies to passing medical staff. “Heads up!” we’d cry, “Toilet paper roll coming your way!”
Looking back, I realize that the doctor was probably just part of an overworked, understaffed emergency department, but in the eyes of teenage me, he was kind of a jerk. He was rushed, and short with me, and clearly thought I was wasting his time, but he dutifully gave me some muscle relaxers and set me up for a chest x-ray, just in case.
After the pictures were taken, the radiologist patted me on the shoulder and said, “I can’t technically say this for certain until the doctor looks at the x-rays, but he’s going to tell you that your lung is collapsed.”
My first thought: “Oh, thank God! I don’t have gas.”
Teenage embarrassment trumped life threatening injury. Besides, the thought of a collapsed lung wasn’t disturbing to me. I had a friend in high school whose lung collapsed twice and he was fine, so it must not be a big deal, right? The doctor showed up and suddenly he was kind and caring. He sat down on the edge of the stretcher and confirmed the radiologist’s report. He seemed genuinely concerned and I began to wonder if maybe this was a bigger deal than I originally thought.
In the meantime, my friends were escorted back to see me. On the way, they passed a room that was apparently locked from the outside. A woman with curly hair sticking out in every direction and a slightly crazed look in her eye peered out through the small window in the door and mouthed the words, “Let me out!!” My terrified roommate slowly backed away from the door, shaking her finger and head ‘no’, then bolted toward my room, which was an actual room this time since I now had a confirmed medical condition.
After I shared the news with them, Erin headed to the nurse’s station to call my parents. All she got out was, “Mrs. Baker, it’s not good,” before dissolving into tears. My now alarmed mother said, “Erin? Erin! Put the nurse on the phone!!” Upon hearing the diagnosis, my mother immediately decided to hop in the car and drive all night (it was a 12 hour drive) to get to me. My dad’s voice of reason (catch a plane first thing in the morning and arrive at the same time as if they drove, but with at least a little sleep) prevailed.
With nothing left for them to do and the hour getting late, my friends said their goodbyes and I was left by myself. A new doctor appeared in my room. A young, cute doctor. He explained that I needed a chest tube and told me how he would insert it. I didn’t consciously feel nervous as he talked, but I was suddenly dizzy as he described how he’d make a small incision in my side and push the tube into my chest cavity through the hole.
Once I took some deep breaths (well, as deep as you can when one of your lungs is 80% deflated) and calmed down, another thought struck me. “Wait, he just showed me how I have to lift my arm up over my head while he does this…
The cute doctor is going to see my hairy armpits!!!!”
So there you have it. They told me it was gas. They were wrong. So very wrong.
As for why I always have shaved armpits; well, the situation clearly traumatized me and I’ve been a bit obsessive about it ever since. It’s like that saying goes, “You never know when you might get in a car accident, so always wear clean underwear!” Or in the words of the Boy Scouts, “Be prepared!”
Jenna @ A Savory Feast says
Hahaha I was waiting to hear part 2! This was a hilarious story.
Lauren says
Thanks Jenna! It was nice to have so many funny things happen during the whole ordeal, otherwise I probably would have been a lot more freaked out!!
Nicole Gould says
Holy smokes…a collapsed lung? Glad it ended well! (I showered and shaved my legs/armpits before I let anyone know labor had actually started…under the veil of “I wanted to make sure they (the contractions) didn’t stop.” But, I know it was to shave and wash my hair! 😀
Lauren says
Haha! You want to keep some small piece of dignity because, let’s face it, most of it goes right out the window in these situations 😛 I have so much respect for nurses… the things they have to do and see. Yikes.
Mandy, Barbie Bieber and Beyond says
hahaha, loved it, Thanks for linking up to “Stumble Into the Weekend” 🙂
Michelle @ A Dish of Daily Life says
What a story! A little scary though…
Good reason to wear clean underwear, shave, etc before you head out the door. If it’s an emergency though, it all goes out the window.
Lauren says
That’s very true! We certainly can’t predict all the crazy things that will happen to us (good AND bad). Which is probably a good thing!
Vicki Lesage says
Whew, glad it ended well, except for the armpits thing. I’m currently on bed rest and could have my baby any day and the scariest part (ha, not really) is that I won’t be shaved and showered when it happens. I’m supposed to be taking it easy and I get out of breath just taking a shower so… I only shower every other day. And in each shower I need to prioritize if I shave or deep condition my hair or pumice my feet since I really only have time for one of those “luxuries”. Depending on how quickly labor happens, I could be in some rough shape! But I tell myself I’ll probably have a little warning and could at least hop in the shower and take care of whatever last minute stuff I need to. OK, I probably overshared but I already typed it so what the heck 🙂
Lauren says
No such thing as over-sharing here! Good luck with your new little one. So exciting!!
Aubrey @ 53 Weeks says
Cute story, we all do “quirky” things for our own reasons… I am self-conscious about my armpits, so I totally understand.
Winnie says
HEHEHE Hilarious story 🙂
It turned out fine but quite scary I’d say
Lauren says
Yes, I’m definitely thankful for how it turned out! And thankful for the friends who kept things so fun during it.
Neva @ Retire for the Fun of it says
I’m so glad the story ended well. It was sounding kinda hairy until then.
Lauren says
Oh my word, too funny Neva! I love it!!
Alisha @ Creations by Alisha Rose says
Too funny! My legs are never shaved during the winter because I figure no one will see….but you never know 🙂
Lauren says
Yeah, my armpits and my legs are two very different stories, lol.
Kristen says
Now I have to read part 1…how did your lung collapse?! More importantly, you are ok now right? Did you get McDreamy’s number?
New cliche I will always use, “always wear clean underwear AND shave your pits. And your legs while you’re at it.”
Lauren says
Yes, I’m perfectly fine now 🙂 I think I’ll write a Part 3 in the next week or two to tie up all the loose ends!
Jessica says
I can’t tell you how many times I wished I had shaved! Great story!
Mark Collette says
I am glad you recovered from your ordeal (the hairy armpits and the collapsed lung) but did they ever discover why your lung collapsed in the first place?
Cheers,
Mark
Lauren says
Yes and no. I had scar tissue that tore and bled, leading to the collapse. But we don’t know where the scar tissue came from.
Georgia says
Off to shave my arm pits! 🙂 Thanks for sharing.
Bismah says
The things we often don’t think about! I am often neglectful of my underarm hair though I never let it go too far. Can’t say the same for my legs though especially during the cold months.
I do hope that you have recovered well!
Alicia says
Oh my gosh!!! Glad you’re OK! And I’m terrible about shaving in general. As much as I love Spring, I always curse it as I’m having to shave more regularly after a nice break from it in the winter!!! LOL!
Herchel S says
Lol why do people always say it’s gas? When I had appendicitis my coworker told me that I should not call in sick bc it’s just gas.