Friday, October 2, 2009

Just before 2 entries back I started getting this pain in my gut that was very acute and very different than anything I'd ever felt before. I assumed it was just a new symptom of my lovely stomach, but the pain began to spread to my chest and then I began to worry.

Between the previous 2 entries I took a bath to help calm my stomach and it worked for a few minutes. Shortly after the last entry I was writhing in pain on the floor, and started losing feeling in my face, hands and legs. I couldn't walk and had trouble breathing or speaking. I thought I was dying. I couldn't call out to Mark but I found the strength to throw a can of something or other at his door which he responded too. He asked what was wrong and tried to comfort me. He asked if I wanted him to call 911 and I said yes. I got my phone and tried call Michael, but just as he answered the pain hit me again and I lost him. After Mark called 911 we called my sister Janice. I told her what was happening and wanted her to tell everyone that I loved them. I kept thinking I needed to get ahold of Michael, and eventually Mark got him I think. I had such a hard time talking. And I didn't care that I was naked; Mark got me to put some shorts on at least.

The paramedics arrived; there were several; at least 3 and possibly 4. They said the tingling / numness in my face / body was because I was hyperventilating, and that if I breathed deep breaths that would change within 20 minutes. I tried to follow their instructions as they helped me downstairs and outside onto the stretcher. They gave me a blanket and the abulance was heated. I told them I wanted UofM Hospital and they took me in. I couldn't keep the breath exercises going because to do so made me hurt and the numness, though terrifying, was not painful. It took several hours, really about 10 before I lost those symptoms.

I've never felt that kind of pain before. I screamed and cried in agony. I begged for painkiller. They shot me up with morphine. It didn't help. They then tried something else, and that worked...for an hour. I had to keep getting refills. They ran tests. They shot X-Rays. They gave me an ultrasound. They found a kidney stone in my left kidney, but this wasn't what was hurting me. They said my heart-rate, blood pressure, liver / kidney enzymes, temperature were all normal. They said that though they weren't finding the hard evidence, that my story was a classic case of irritated gallbladder. They wanted me to consider having it removed. Mark was against this at first because he believed I wouldn't be able to eat fatty foods ever again, and because my diet (even though it's expanding everyday) is so limited, that this could end up killing me. I wanted it out. Thankfully a nurse(? a woman who was working there) named Holly was tipped off about my dillema and came and shared her story with me about her delaying the procedure caused her much excruciating pain, and that the operation was one of the best things that had happened to her; that her diet didn't change; that there was little scaring (she showed us her scars) and that she'd wished she'd done it sooner. She made believers of us. By us, I mean me, Mark & Michael, who had joined us at the hospital.

I was in line for the operation. I spoke to several doctors and care givers. I filled out a power of attourney. I spoke to several friends on the phone. I made sure everyone knew that I loved them. I think I went in for surgery around 4pm? About 12 hours after I first had the pain. I was prepped and put under.

When I woke up in the recovery room Michael and Mark were nowhere to be found. I was frightened and alone. There was a man there and it took me awhile to get his attention. I needed to piss but I needed privacy and he eventually got me to a bathroom. I couldn't go. Something was wrong. He wheeled my bed down to my room where my mother, my older sister Janice, and Mark were waiting. Again...Michael was gone. I asked where Michael was, feeling like a dick for not caring that others were there. Mark told me Michael went to our place the minute he heard the operation was a success. I put my head on Mark's shoulder and cried.

Janice and Mom couldn't stay long and I was ok with that. I was in so much pain. Michael returned later and I started feeling a bit better. I had pain in my belly and sides, and my upper right chest area, near my shoulder, which I didn't understand. I also had to pee frequently, which was difficult and painful. I later learned that I had a urinary tract infection. The pain in the shoulder is normal because when they go in to remove the gall bladder they have to move other stuff around, and stuff doesn't like it...plus air gets in there and causes discomfort. Michael left, with my permission, thought he was going to his home; not mine; otherwise I would have had him stay. While Michael was at our place watching Center Stage on the DVD player downstairs, Mark was holding me while I convulsed with a terrible case of hiccups which made me scream in pain. They gave me pain killer which didn't help. They later gave me muscle spasm drugs that didn't help. The night was long and painful. Somehow we made it through.

My operation was a complete success. I'm in a lot of pain, but I've been dealing with it in the proper ways. I've not settled into a bed and stayed there and I've been trying to do breathing exercises. These things help keep me from getting blood clots or pneumonia. I've started taking anti-biotics for the urinary tract infection (which runs 5 days - hopefully that will get cleared up fast. I've also taken Uristat & AZO pills for that pain, but they're not working. I've had some prilosec (which I missed doses of in the hospital). I've not had any painkiller since the hospital which is getting to be a terrible bother. The pharmacy at the hospital has my perscription and I'm hoping I can get them to release the drug to my grandparents or Mark - because I need those drugs, and I don't think I can bring myself to leave the condo. I'm not allowed to life anything up to the weight of a gallon of milk for 6 weeks. I have a followup appointment on my operation entry results / wounds / whatever on October 20.

My belly button is a HUGE bruise; that's where they took my gall bladder out. I have marks all over me. I'm trying to stay in good spirits, but it's hard when I can't get comfy without having to pee and want to die from the pain.

Michael was here when I got home around 11am, I think. We cuddled a very brief time. I slept briefly; waking for the toilet and the pain of moving at all. Michael left for work but is returning tonight to help Mark & I with the cleaning and stuff so I can rest.

Mark was a trooper through all this, but got no sleep, and was very cranky when he returned from the pharmacy with my antibiotics and AZO pills, refusing to listen to me and leaving a bucket in the hallway that I later tripped over - which hurt more than I can express; sudden unexpected movements are NOT what I need right now. Michael told me not to take his behavior personally; that he was just exhausted. I knew that he was right, but I was exhausted too, and in constant pain.

I slept for about 30 minutes I think. Mollie has left me a very nice voicemail; she's been through this before so she knows what I'm going through. My grandparents are coming to see me now. Friends have left messages on Facebook. Michael is at work. And all I can think about is the painkiller a few blocks away that I can't use - and how the pain throughout my body keeps growing.

   posted by Bald Jason at 03:11 PM
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