Prior to the flight out, the previous day, I had a platelet transfusion just after I had chemo.
The day of the flight my wife and I stopped at O'Hare for a connecting flight I suddenly experienced a wave of nausea. I hot-footed it to the bathroom and promptly vomited up what looked to be a pound of Red Vines and accompanying juice and realized that I had just vomited some blood. I've never done this before. It was rather disconcerting.
My wife and I then hightailed it to the gate to talk to the agents about getting to the hospital and reclaiming our luggage when I had another wave of nausea. This time it wasn't as much and it was darker in color. Needless to say, I wasn't happy.
The agents at the gate changed the departing gate for the flight as the paramedics needed to use the gate to bring me out to the ambulance. They rocketed us to the hospital with lights and sirens going (when needed). If I didn't feel so shitty I probably would've been more excited to be riding in the ambulance.
Once we got to the hospital and into emergency, I got to experience something horrible. An NG tube. God I hate you NG tube. They had to put it in to suck out the contents of my stomach to see how much blood was in there. It involved shoving a plastic tube in my nose, down my throat, and into my stomach, while I'm awake. I cursed the first time they tried and finally got it in the second time. There was not much blood present, so I was able to have the tube removed. Vomiting blood was more preferable than having an NG tube inserted.
I'm now in ICU and am having a red blood cell transfusion. A GI doctor is seeing me in the morning and will likely do an upper endoscopy to see if they can determine the cause of the bleeding. We're still trying to make the appointment at Johns Hopkins on Friday. It's a whirlwind.
To recap the firsts:
1. Platelet transfusion
2. Ambulance ride to the hospital
3. NG tube (I hate you)
4. Red blood cell transfusion
5. Vomiting blood
The worst thing is that I'm in Chicago and I can't eat anything. All I'm craving is some genuine deep dish pizza, and I can't have any.
Oh well. Soon. Let's get this bleeding thing figured out, catch the flight to Baltimore, get home, and then maybe celebrate with my West Coast Chicago-style deep dish: Zachary's. Spinach and mushroom.