Tim

I'm a Dork , I work on computers for a living.
True Story from 1990 Below:
I had spent the night with my current girlfriend and had woken up with the beginnings of a cold. You know the routine, sore throat, congestion and a really nasty headache. So I asked my girlfriend if she had anything for me to take and she produced some Advil. Since I was running late for work at the bike shop, I hastily grabbed a couple of tablets and ran out the door with my bike to head to work. Once outside I popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed. That is where my troubles began.
The headache cleared away; however, it felt as if I had something stuck in my throat so I kept drinking cup after cup of water to no avail. Later that afternoon it progressed from just an annoying lump-like feeling to genuine pain. All along I kept attributing this feeling to the postnasal drip from my cold. I left work early that day and went home to rest.
The pain in my throat kept getting worse and worse. The next morning I was not able to swallow anything except for the fluids I forced down. It was extremely painful but I had to get some nourishment.
I should mention at this time that I had no health insurance at all so I was resisting going to the doctor at all possible costs. But eventually the pain got so bad that I called my doctor, who agreed to see me that afternoon. The doctor assumed that it was just a bad case of heartburn and gave me a cup full of Mylanta to drink. I must admit I was extremely reluctant to drink this stuff down since it has the consistency of thin cement and I could hardly drink water at this point. But the doctor assured me that it would be fine. So I drank it down. I could feel the thick goo rolling slowly down my throat until it got to the point that I could feel the pain. It was so intense that I nearly passed out. The doctor told me to lay down (I think she was afraid I would pass out) and she scheduled an emergency upper GI for the next morning at Rex. Total cost of doctor visit $48.00. Here is where the fun starts.
The next morning my sister drives me to Rex Hospital's Outpatient Surgery Center. When I am at the admitting desk I ask the admitting nurse how much this is going to cost: $100. So now I'm up to $148.00 and thinking that is not that bad.
An upper GI consists of a specialist taking a fiber optic camera, stuffing it down your throat and looking around for whatever. You need to be conscious enough to respond to commands; however you also need to be unconscious enough so you don't gag. They shoot me full of just enough Demerol and Valium so I don't pass out, pump my stomach full of air and stuff this long black tube with a light on it down my throat. The whole procedure takes about 30 minutes and I don't really remember much about it because of the drugs.The next thing I remember is laying in the recovery room and a nurse helping me get out of the bed. As soon as I stood up I let out the biggest belch I have ever had, I mean it lasted at least a minute, maybe more. The doctor came in and asked if I had dry swallowed any pills lately. So I told him of the Advil. He explained to me that you should never, ever swallow dry pills. What had happened to me was that one of the pills I had taken had gotten stuck in the mucus membrane in my esophagus and dissolved there, eating a small hole in the wall of my esophagus. He told me that it'll heal up in a few days, put me on a liquid diet until I was healed, prescribed Zantac and Tylenol 4 with Codeine for pain. For a memento, he gave me two postcard size photos from the procedure: one from inside my stomach looking up my esophagus and the other of the actual hole in my throat. I thought, cool, for $148.00 I just got full color photos of my insides.
My sister drove me to the drugstore to pickup my drugs which came to about $30.00 (Zantac was prescription only then). So now the total bill was $178.00, but I still had these cool photos.
About a week later the hole healed up I could eat normal food and I had these really cool photos which I never hesitated to show to anyone, strangers in the street even. All the while explaining the dangers of dry swallowing pills. At about the same time bills started coming in. Hospital lab bill, $252; hospital supply bill $137.56 (those gauze sponges are expensive); anesthesiologist, $548; and the kicker of it all, Cary Gastroenterological $2128. So now my total charges are $3243.56. But I had learned my lesson about dry swallowing pills, could preach the dangers to the masses and I had some REALLY COOL FULL COLOR PHOTOS OF MY INSIDES.
Right after receiving the bill from the Gastroenterological I was a bit depressed because I had no idea how I was going to pay for it. I decided to do what I often do when feeling down, go to the NC State Fairgrounds Flea Market.
It was a nice warm sunny Sunday. I hopped into my car, rolled down the windows and drove out of my neighborhood towards the fairgrounds. I had just passed the Nello Teer Quarry and had crossed Crabtree Creek when it happened. A sudden gust of wind blew into the car, picked up my photos and whipped them around and out the driver's side window.
I was distraught. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw them tumbling off the opposite side of the road next to the bridge. I decided that the only thing to do was to stop do a U turn and find them. I stopped and tried to do a U turn. But since my 1966 Comet does not have power steering it has the turning radius of a large truck and I ended up in the ditch on the opposite side of the road.
I tried desperately to get one of the cars passing by to stop and call a tow truck and after about 15 minutes a young woman stopped and said she would "call somebody". About twenty minutes later a Raleigh police officer showed up and asked if anyone had called a "wrecker." I told him that a women told me she would "call somebody." We started directing traffic around my car since its rear end was blocking the lane of Duraleigh heading toward Glenwood and it was not visible to oncoming traffic.
After another half-hour of this a Wake County Sheriff showed up and he set up flares and started directing traffic from the other side. About that time one of those sudden spring afternoon thunderstorms came through. It poured for a good twenty minutes. I tried to be optimistic about my photos but I had the feeling that they were gone for good.
The first cop came up to me and asked where that tow truck was. I told him again about the woman who had stopped and said she would "call somebody". All the sudden he gets this look on his face like someone just hit him in the head. He gets on his radio and calls in to the station. It turns out that the woman who had stopped nearly two hours earlier didn't call a tow truck; she called the police. That's why the first cop came in the first place. So he gets dispatch at the station to call in for a tow. Fifteen minutes later a truck shows up and pulls my car out of the ditch, $45.
Now this whole pill incident is up to $3288.56, and I don't have the photos. I was bound and determined to find those photos and spent to nearly 9 PM that day looking for them down Crabtree Creek but never found them.