Tell me the craziest experience of your life.
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Shpongled
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- Aug 30, 2001
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pneumothorax
\Pneu`mo*tho"rax\, n. [Gr. ? air + E. thorax.] (Med.) A condition in which air or other gas is present in the cavity of the chest;
There it is, the official definition from dictionary.com. It's pretty much right on, although very vague. Here's my story. It's pretty long.
It was June of 200 when this first happened. I was 20 years old. I was attending radio classes at Green River Community College and it was the very end of the semester. In the main radio laboratory class, we'd have a party at the end of every semester and hand out awards for various things. Well I was sitting at the party when I felt a sharp pain in the left side of my chest. It didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. Usually when I felt a random pain like that, it went away after a few minutes. Such was not the case on this day. It just started hurting more and more and got to a point where it was sort of hard for me to breathe. I told my friend Steve who hosted my show with me about the pain. He didn't know what to do. After about 10 more minutes I decided I couldn't take it anymore. So we got up and walked out of the party. My vehicle was parked a good quarter mile away. I just wanted to drive home and lay down. So Steve walked with me out to my truck and I told him I'll be cool when I get home and lay down. The walk was the worst idea. Each step made it harder for me to breathe and just added more pain. Halfway there, he had to grab me and hold me up and help me walk. Finally I made it to my truck and drove the short 3 miles home. I went into bed without telling anyone anything. After an hour or so, I got up and felt a LITLLE bit better. Another friend called and I told him what was going on. He suggested I go to the hospital. I thought that idea was dumb. A few minutes after I hung up with him, his girlfriend called me. She also suggested the hospital thing. She asked if my left arm felt funny at all. I told her it did. She asked if I was light-headed. As soon as she did, I got light-headed. She suggested it could be a heart attack. She then said "Well, I hope you have enough brains to realize that what's happeneing isn't good and that you'll go to the hospital. take care." and hung up.
So I decided to tell my mom to take me to the emergency clinic that was very close to our home. When we got there and I explained my symptoms of arm pain, shortness of breath, trouble breathing and more, they bypassed me in front of all the others waiting to be examined. I felt special, in a bad sort of way. The first thing they did was a chest x-ray. "Take as deep of a breath as you can" they said. I've never felt so much pain in my life. After the x-rays came back, I was informed of the news. I had a Spontaneous Pnuemothorax. A collapsed lung.
"What is that?" I asked. Basically, it's when you acquire a hole in your lung from which air escapes into your chest cavity when you inhale. The more you breathe, the more air escapes. When there's so much air that it gets to the point where your lung can't expand... that's when it starts to hurt. My lung was 35% collapsed. They told me that I'd have to be taken to a hospital emergency room and given a chest tube. Th chest tube would fix everything up, but I would have to have it in for a few days. So by now I'm nervous and scared and in an ambulance. When I get to the ER, the give me an IV in my arm and shoot me up with some stuff. When it was time for the chest tube, they gave me some nice drugs which made me really happy and numb. I remember chatting with one of the doctors about hockey because his stethoscope had a Pittsburg Penguins logo on it. I didn't feel the chest tube going in at all, but I guess it's a pretty brutal procedure. Good thing I had some local anesthetic. I also remember chatting with my parents after the chest tube was in about how these drugs they gave me were the best I've had, and that I've had my share of drugs, haha. I would never say anything like that to them if I were sober. These docs gave me some happy stuff haha.
So after they got me checked into a room at the hospital and got all my vitals and my stats, and asked some questions, I was to myself for the night. I began calling EVERYONE I know, still under the influence of the ER drugs. The next day, the doctor came in and told me how everything happens and what to expect, etc. Apparently collapsed lungs are not uncommon for men my age and stature. 20-40 tall and skinny. Odd, because I'd never even heard of it before. Anyway, he mentioned that there is a surgery procedure that can be done to correct the problem and that if this were to happen again, I should have it done. I said I'd do it, if it happened again. 3 days later, tube was removed and I was set free.
6 months later, during a harsh cold with some coughing, I felt it collapse again. Off to the ER again, and through the same procedures. I told the doctors I'd have the surgery during my spring break from school. I never scheduled it. The, ironically enough, during my spring break when I was supposed to have the surgery, my best friend Jeff had his first collapsed lung.
So now, a year after the second collapsed lung, it happened a 3rd time. No jokes here. i was going to get the surgery the next day. So I did. The surgery was not as bad as I had expected. Still not something I wanted experience again though. After I woke from the surgery, the chest tube was gone, but in it's place were two BIGGER tubes. It had felt as if I had been hit with a baseball bat on the side of my chest. When they asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10, I said "10." After that they hooked up a morphine PCA. Basically, that's an automatic drip into my IV of morphine. I had a button which I could click every 8 minutes and it would deliver a hit of morphine. Man that was nice.
After a few days healing, tubes were pulled and I was gone with the impression that my lung was now healed for good. I felt good about that. Too bad that doctor straight up fucking lied to me.
A year later, while I was working at a job which I had just started and was trying to make a good impression at, my lung collapsed AGAIN. This time I felt it go as I picked up a really heavy ladder. So I left work, stopped by my apartment to pick up my girlfriend (who I had met since after the last time my lung collapsed, so this was new to her) and drove myself to the ER of the hospital I'd always gone to. It was about 20 miles away. Typical stuff. Chest tube, good drugs, etc. After I was checked into my room, the doctor came in. This is the same doctor I've always had since the first initial collapse. I asked him why it happened again when he told me before that it was 99.9% guaranteed to never happen again after the surgery. His answer.... "well, I didn't really do exactly what I said I was going to do last time. Why, well, that I can't tell you because I don't even know." What bullshit. That's how he lied to me. So I asked for a new doctor. The new doctor could actually speak fluent English! That was nice. So he suggested a different extensive surgery which we did. I was in the hospital much longer than the other times. Just over 2 full weeks. My lung just wasn't healing quickly. The doctor actually discharged me this time with one tube still in my chest. It had a special valve at the end of it and it hung down about a foot, just past my waste. That stayed in for 4 days. On the 4th day I went in for a check up x-ray. Everything looked grand, and the tube was removed. That was just this past Tuesday. Today is Friday. Things seem to be good so far.
The day that I write this is March 3rd, 2003. Exactly one week since I got out of the hospital. Hopefully the doctor did what he promised and everything will be fine for the rest of my life. I still have some ocassional pain, and I'll be numb for many years to come, but someday I'll hopefully be able to be a completely normal person again.
For more information about my condition, check out this very informative website I found... Pneumothorax.org - Pneumothorax News, Information and Forums.. If you're feeling very sympathetic, you can make a donation to them in my name to be able to further progress the studies of pneumothoraces. It's very common that a pneumothorax will be mis-diagnosed, simply because of ignorant doctors. It truly is a shame.
UPDATE: I copied and pasted this from 4 years ago. This wasn't the last time it happened. Maybe I'll continue the story in this thread.
\Pneu`mo*tho"rax\, n. [Gr. ? air + E. thorax.] (Med.) A condition in which air or other gas is present in the cavity of the chest;
There it is, the official definition from dictionary.com. It's pretty much right on, although very vague. Here's my story. It's pretty long.
It was June of 200 when this first happened. I was 20 years old. I was attending radio classes at Green River Community College and it was the very end of the semester. In the main radio laboratory class, we'd have a party at the end of every semester and hand out awards for various things. Well I was sitting at the party when I felt a sharp pain in the left side of my chest. It didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. Usually when I felt a random pain like that, it went away after a few minutes. Such was not the case on this day. It just started hurting more and more and got to a point where it was sort of hard for me to breathe. I told my friend Steve who hosted my show with me about the pain. He didn't know what to do. After about 10 more minutes I decided I couldn't take it anymore. So we got up and walked out of the party. My vehicle was parked a good quarter mile away. I just wanted to drive home and lay down. So Steve walked with me out to my truck and I told him I'll be cool when I get home and lay down. The walk was the worst idea. Each step made it harder for me to breathe and just added more pain. Halfway there, he had to grab me and hold me up and help me walk. Finally I made it to my truck and drove the short 3 miles home. I went into bed without telling anyone anything. After an hour or so, I got up and felt a LITLLE bit better. Another friend called and I told him what was going on. He suggested I go to the hospital. I thought that idea was dumb. A few minutes after I hung up with him, his girlfriend called me. She also suggested the hospital thing. She asked if my left arm felt funny at all. I told her it did. She asked if I was light-headed. As soon as she did, I got light-headed. She suggested it could be a heart attack. She then said "Well, I hope you have enough brains to realize that what's happeneing isn't good and that you'll go to the hospital. take care." and hung up.
So I decided to tell my mom to take me to the emergency clinic that was very close to our home. When we got there and I explained my symptoms of arm pain, shortness of breath, trouble breathing and more, they bypassed me in front of all the others waiting to be examined. I felt special, in a bad sort of way. The first thing they did was a chest x-ray. "Take as deep of a breath as you can" they said. I've never felt so much pain in my life. After the x-rays came back, I was informed of the news. I had a Spontaneous Pnuemothorax. A collapsed lung.
"What is that?" I asked. Basically, it's when you acquire a hole in your lung from which air escapes into your chest cavity when you inhale. The more you breathe, the more air escapes. When there's so much air that it gets to the point where your lung can't expand... that's when it starts to hurt. My lung was 35% collapsed. They told me that I'd have to be taken to a hospital emergency room and given a chest tube. Th chest tube would fix everything up, but I would have to have it in for a few days. So by now I'm nervous and scared and in an ambulance. When I get to the ER, the give me an IV in my arm and shoot me up with some stuff. When it was time for the chest tube, they gave me some nice drugs which made me really happy and numb. I remember chatting with one of the doctors about hockey because his stethoscope had a Pittsburg Penguins logo on it. I didn't feel the chest tube going in at all, but I guess it's a pretty brutal procedure. Good thing I had some local anesthetic. I also remember chatting with my parents after the chest tube was in about how these drugs they gave me were the best I've had, and that I've had my share of drugs, haha. I would never say anything like that to them if I were sober. These docs gave me some happy stuff haha.
So after they got me checked into a room at the hospital and got all my vitals and my stats, and asked some questions, I was to myself for the night. I began calling EVERYONE I know, still under the influence of the ER drugs. The next day, the doctor came in and told me how everything happens and what to expect, etc. Apparently collapsed lungs are not uncommon for men my age and stature. 20-40 tall and skinny. Odd, because I'd never even heard of it before. Anyway, he mentioned that there is a surgery procedure that can be done to correct the problem and that if this were to happen again, I should have it done. I said I'd do it, if it happened again. 3 days later, tube was removed and I was set free.
6 months later, during a harsh cold with some coughing, I felt it collapse again. Off to the ER again, and through the same procedures. I told the doctors I'd have the surgery during my spring break from school. I never scheduled it. The, ironically enough, during my spring break when I was supposed to have the surgery, my best friend Jeff had his first collapsed lung.
So now, a year after the second collapsed lung, it happened a 3rd time. No jokes here. i was going to get the surgery the next day. So I did. The surgery was not as bad as I had expected. Still not something I wanted experience again though. After I woke from the surgery, the chest tube was gone, but in it's place were two BIGGER tubes. It had felt as if I had been hit with a baseball bat on the side of my chest. When they asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10, I said "10." After that they hooked up a morphine PCA. Basically, that's an automatic drip into my IV of morphine. I had a button which I could click every 8 minutes and it would deliver a hit of morphine. Man that was nice.
After a few days healing, tubes were pulled and I was gone with the impression that my lung was now healed for good. I felt good about that. Too bad that doctor straight up fucking lied to me.
A year later, while I was working at a job which I had just started and was trying to make a good impression at, my lung collapsed AGAIN. This time I felt it go as I picked up a really heavy ladder. So I left work, stopped by my apartment to pick up my girlfriend (who I had met since after the last time my lung collapsed, so this was new to her) and drove myself to the ER of the hospital I'd always gone to. It was about 20 miles away. Typical stuff. Chest tube, good drugs, etc. After I was checked into my room, the doctor came in. This is the same doctor I've always had since the first initial collapse. I asked him why it happened again when he told me before that it was 99.9% guaranteed to never happen again after the surgery. His answer.... "well, I didn't really do exactly what I said I was going to do last time. Why, well, that I can't tell you because I don't even know." What bullshit. That's how he lied to me. So I asked for a new doctor. The new doctor could actually speak fluent English! That was nice. So he suggested a different extensive surgery which we did. I was in the hospital much longer than the other times. Just over 2 full weeks. My lung just wasn't healing quickly. The doctor actually discharged me this time with one tube still in my chest. It had a special valve at the end of it and it hung down about a foot, just past my waste. That stayed in for 4 days. On the 4th day I went in for a check up x-ray. Everything looked grand, and the tube was removed. That was just this past Tuesday. Today is Friday. Things seem to be good so far.
The day that I write this is March 3rd, 2003. Exactly one week since I got out of the hospital. Hopefully the doctor did what he promised and everything will be fine for the rest of my life. I still have some ocassional pain, and I'll be numb for many years to come, but someday I'll hopefully be able to be a completely normal person again.
For more information about my condition, check out this very informative website I found... Pneumothorax.org - Pneumothorax News, Information and Forums.. If you're feeling very sympathetic, you can make a donation to them in my name to be able to further progress the studies of pneumothoraces. It's very common that a pneumothorax will be mis-diagnosed, simply because of ignorant doctors. It truly is a shame.
UPDATE: I copied and pasted this from 4 years ago. This wasn't the last time it happened. Maybe I'll continue the story in this thread.
Calamitas1786
doom cock....
I buddy of mine had a collapsed lung. They almost diagnosed it as Meningitis. My Dad's appendix burst and almost died. He went to the hospital twice and they said it was just gas. Where are these "doctors" getting schooled at!!?
tered
Attained enlightenment
...Inspect band fellow members.
In October of 98 I skipped school with my dad to go 4-wheeling. We went out to a place called Virtue Flats. Has lots of trails and jumps, etc. Well, we get out there and I'm on the back of the fweeler with my dad and we go around and are just having a good ol' time. My turn. We're going around having fun and my dad who's on the back with me points out a somewhat steep hill. "Oh I can get this." I'm in 4th gear and I hit that hill with both of us NOT wearing helmets. Well, I get about halfway up and the engine stalls. "What the fuck do I do?" I grabbed the back brake. I feel the fweeler start to tip. Tipping more. My father, in an effort to keep it from hitting me, used his legs to try and kick it up and over us. Bad idea though I know he meant well. The kick basically forced the front of the fweeler with the rack into my face (495 lbs of fweeler). I and the fweeler tumbled down the hill it rolling over me, I rolling over the ATV. I'm not sure how long I was knocked out at the bottom of the hill but I remember jumping up cussing up a storm, the pain was so unbearable.
My dad told me to get on the ATV and so I did and we rushed to the pick-up. I looked into the passenger-side mirror. Not good at all. We're 25 miles away from the nearest hospital and so my dad went 90 all the way there (it was a highway so we couldn't go too fast). The whole time I could hear my dad telling me not to fall asleep. We get to the hospital and from what I can remember, they got me into the emergency room, I puked, and they then carted me out to the Lifeflight helicopter. I remember laying on a hard-ass wood stretcher or something. I remember the CAT scan. And then I remember waking up, completely drugged up on morphine, my face swollen like crazy, and my mom crying over me because I had just been brought back to life after being clinically dead for 15 minutes. The doctors predicted I would be in ICU for a week and in recovery for 2. I found out that I shattered my cheekbone, broke my nose in 10 places, put my tooth through my lip and crushed my sinus cavity causing it to leak.
I was in the ICU for 2 days and in recovery for 3 and was out of the hospital after that. When I went to get my reconstructive surgery, the doctor said that my nose wouldn't stay in place so they had to splint it so to speak. They still didn't get it right and my nose now rests on a nerve and everytime I rub my right eye, I can feel the nerve pinch all the way up my forehead. I will, for the rest of my life, have migraines and sinus infections, but it's a small price to pay for life.
My dad told me to get on the ATV and so I did and we rushed to the pick-up. I looked into the passenger-side mirror. Not good at all. We're 25 miles away from the nearest hospital and so my dad went 90 all the way there (it was a highway so we couldn't go too fast). The whole time I could hear my dad telling me not to fall asleep. We get to the hospital and from what I can remember, they got me into the emergency room, I puked, and they then carted me out to the Lifeflight helicopter. I remember laying on a hard-ass wood stretcher or something. I remember the CAT scan. And then I remember waking up, completely drugged up on morphine, my face swollen like crazy, and my mom crying over me because I had just been brought back to life after being clinically dead for 15 minutes. The doctors predicted I would be in ICU for a week and in recovery for 2. I found out that I shattered my cheekbone, broke my nose in 10 places, put my tooth through my lip and crushed my sinus cavity causing it to leak.
I was in the ICU for 2 days and in recovery for 3 and was out of the hospital after that. When I went to get my reconstructive surgery, the doctor said that my nose wouldn't stay in place so they had to splint it so to speak. They still didn't get it right and my nose now rests on a nerve and everytime I rub my right eye, I can feel the nerve pinch all the way up my forehead. I will, for the rest of my life, have migraines and sinus infections, but it's a small price to pay for life.
oh man that is fucked up, both you and kevin are very lucky people.
once, 2 and a half years ago i was at home alone in Romania, i was staying home since i was sick and my parents were at work and my grandma was on her way to visit me since she lives in the same city. I never had asthma or anything like that, i had pneumonia and coughed a lot. I was playing some stupid video game and i went in the kitchen to eat. So i start eating yogurt with some corn flakes. As I was chewing whatever i had in my mouth i felt a very strong need to cough, and i tried not to until i would swallow my food. i swallowed whatever i was eating, but i kept on coughin and coughing and couldn't stop i was running low on air, so i stand up go open a window thinking that maybe fresh air would help me. the coughing doesn't stop, so now i have somewhat blurry vision. i find my way to the bathroom and got cold water on my face, nothing. i am still coughing (without feeling like spitting any kind of infection or shit) and I think that my life is over and i was getting used to the fact of being dead, the thing running in my mind was the line from the movie that was in metallica's video for one: every man faces death alone, being with no air for like 2 minutes i assumed, but i really don't know how long it was. then hallucinations appeared. after some hallucinating about jesus and what was going to happen after death i see this stove appear out of nowhere in the middle of my bathroom and with a flame inside the oven and with a hand reaching out of it from it. My cat was around all the time, dunno why but at this point the cat bit one of my feet strongly (i was barefooted) and i think i screamed in pain and the coughing stopped and the stove slowly dissapeared and my vision straightened somehow and i fell a sleep on the bathroom floor relieved that i wasn't gonna die at last. that was the last thing i remember. next thing i remember is that i'm my bed and my cat was sleeping on my chest with my family and the crew of an ambulance near me. Dunno what the fuck happened by i think the cat saved my life...
once, 2 and a half years ago i was at home alone in Romania, i was staying home since i was sick and my parents were at work and my grandma was on her way to visit me since she lives in the same city. I never had asthma or anything like that, i had pneumonia and coughed a lot. I was playing some stupid video game and i went in the kitchen to eat. So i start eating yogurt with some corn flakes. As I was chewing whatever i had in my mouth i felt a very strong need to cough, and i tried not to until i would swallow my food. i swallowed whatever i was eating, but i kept on coughin and coughing and couldn't stop i was running low on air, so i stand up go open a window thinking that maybe fresh air would help me. the coughing doesn't stop, so now i have somewhat blurry vision. i find my way to the bathroom and got cold water on my face, nothing. i am still coughing (without feeling like spitting any kind of infection or shit) and I think that my life is over and i was getting used to the fact of being dead, the thing running in my mind was the line from the movie that was in metallica's video for one: every man faces death alone, being with no air for like 2 minutes i assumed, but i really don't know how long it was. then hallucinations appeared. after some hallucinating about jesus and what was going to happen after death i see this stove appear out of nowhere in the middle of my bathroom and with a flame inside the oven and with a hand reaching out of it from it. My cat was around all the time, dunno why but at this point the cat bit one of my feet strongly (i was barefooted) and i think i screamed in pain and the coughing stopped and the stove slowly dissapeared and my vision straightened somehow and i fell a sleep on the bathroom floor relieved that i wasn't gonna die at last. that was the last thing i remember. next thing i remember is that i'm my bed and my cat was sleeping on my chest with my family and the crew of an ambulance near me. Dunno what the fuck happened by i think the cat saved my life...
Captain Beard
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perniciosa
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This is a pretty scary thread.
Kevin: Do you avoid smoking all things these days because you're scared it will fuck up your lungs?
Kevin: Do you avoid smoking all things these days because you're scared it will fuck up your lungs?
Captain Beard
No longer active
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hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Oh, sorry, just thinking about Kevin's weed habits.
Oh, sorry, just thinking about Kevin's weed habits.
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