05-11-2009, 09:43 AM
when I was sixteen, I got Encephylitis (like West Nile, but the St. John's strain). I was diagnosed in a regular doctors office and not a hospital. Because I was not diagnosed in a hospital, I spent three of the most painful months of my life at home, having to be piled into a car every day so I could go have MRIs, spinal taps, EKGs, and other crappy tests done because my insurance wouldn't let me stay in a hospital. When we would get to the Dr's office I would lay on the floor crying in pain.
At one point, I was in so much pain, I wanted to give up living, so I did. I stopped breathing. My mom was holding me and screaming for me to breathe, and to not give up. I decided to come back for her.
My insurance kept me from a hospital, hospital care and nurses that could help me. My mom had to take care of me.
I sometimes think it was harder and more painful for my mom.
Stupid insurance.
At one point, I was in so much pain, I wanted to give up living, so I did. I stopped breathing. My mom was holding me and screaming for me to breathe, and to not give up. I decided to come back for her.
My insurance kept me from a hospital, hospital care and nurses that could help me. My mom had to take care of me.
I sometimes think it was harder and more painful for my mom.
Stupid insurance.