Hello everyone! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. ♥
Me? Well I had a horrible Christmas. 🙁
I was in the hospital. That was not the way I wanted to spend my Christmas but my body refused to behave.
(Warning, this is EXTREMELY long. Sorry!)
For the last 3-4 weeks I had been suffering with some on and off again stomach pain. It was so bad at times that I could not eat or I would throw it up or just have too much pain from it. I finally gave in and decided it wasn’t reflux and called my doctor. He scheduled me to have a test done on Christmas Eve. The test would check the function of my gallbladder. He decided there was something wrong with that organ because when he had me inhale and exhale, then poked where my gallbladder was, I nearly jumped off the table.
I was some what suspicious though. I have had so many tests done on my gallbladder in the past and all of them came back fine. I figured this would just be another test I have done before and it wouldn’t show anything.
However, on Tuesday my pain got so bad that I had a complete melt down at work. I was sobbing and shaking and having a panic attack. I was scared and in so much pain. I was also just angry that my body would do this to me once again, especially being on Christmas week. A co-worker helped to calm me down and get my act together. I called the doctor and he threw me into the hospital to get my pain under control and to have the test done sooner.
I’m a hard stick for an IV, I found out, so they called for the AirMed people to come and do it. I know those guys well since I had to help them when they had a power outage that took out all their computers. 0_0 It was nice to have friendly faces to start my IV. Kind of a pointless thing to comment on but through all the bad stuff I have to mention the awesome people who took care of me.
They woke me up super early to get the test done on Wed. That was a good thing because I had to be off all pain medications after midnight for this test so I was miserable. The first part of the test took well over an hour. The guy eventually came in and told me to start thinking about greasy food to help the process along. They eventually had to let me get up to go pee, which seemed to help the process as well. When he told me to think of food I wanted to hit him because I had been NPO for the last day (NPO means no food or water by mouth, to be technical it is – Nil Per Os – Latin for nothing by mouth). It didn’t take much to think of food to make me drool. ):
The second part of the test was the worst part. The first part was just long and boring, a bit claustrophobic as well. The second part they injected me with something that made me so ill I nearly ruined the test. I started to heave and the tech was like – be still. All I could think was, bitch, I’m trying not to barf all over your machine! Sigh. It gave me bad cramps too and unlike other gallbladder tests I had done in the past, the pain did not go away in a split second, it freaking lasted! I’m so surprised I didn’t throw up.
2 hours later, I was back in my room. Exhausted and miserable and pretty damn sure my test results where not going to be good. Sure enough, my PCP came in and told me that my Gallbladder ejection fraction was only 17% when they are suppose to be 35% or more. Then he asked me how I felt during the test. I told him and he was pretty sure I was going to be saying goodbye to my gallbladder.
My surgeon, the same one who did my last surgery, came in and said the same thing. He told me the major deciding factor on him wanting to take it out was my reaction to the test. People who have normal function gallbladders do not have pain and nausea from it.
I was scheduled to get it out the next day, Thursday and Christmas Eve. My surgeon said he was hoping to go in laparoscopically but there was a slight chance he would have to open me the old fashion way because of my previous surgery. That scared me but I tried to stay optimistic since it is rare for them to have to open people up for this procedure anymore and he just had to tell me so I wouldn’t be shocked if he did. I always appreciated that my surgeon would do that. He did the same thing with my last surgery and when I came out not as bad as he warned me it was much better than thinking it would not be so bad and come out worse.
My family all came to visit me on Wed. My sister and her husband brought me my Christmas gift from them, so did my grandparents. My father and step mother came as well. My mother – of course – was there. My Ex-step father came by too. I’m truly loved and cared for. My doctors and nurses are always so surprised by how many visitors I get. My PCP got to meet my sister and Dad for the first time on this hospital stay.
Thursday morning came and procedure was scheduled for 9:45am. My mother, sister, sister’s husband, and father where all there up until the time they took me away.
When I woke up in recovery I was in a daze and couldn’t tell if I was hurting a lot from pain or more nauseated. I could mumble a few words to the nurse that I was hurting. She injected me and I was out again. This happened twice. I eventually woke up in the room and was feeling like shit. Before the procedure, the doctor had told me that they usually release patients on the same day of the surgery so I would go home before Christmas.
I noticed a card with my name on it next to my bed. I assumed it came from the people at work. I had overheard the nurses talking about how shocked they were I worked for I.T. They were confused when I.T. came up looking for me, wondering why I.T. wanted to talk to me. LOL I seemed to be the gossip for the hospital – not much going on I guess. My mother told me she heard them talking about my situation a lot when she would leave the room and go down the halls.
As soon as I tried to move I felt sick. My father had to hold back my hair and hold the basin for me to puke in. I think that day I threw up 8 or 9 times. First it was just blood and bile, then I was just heaving up since my stomach was so empty. I thought, maybe I’m just sick because I didn’t eat in three days and I had so many hard drugs on my stomach. So I tried to eat. It seemed to go okay, it felt nice to eat again. I thought, yay, maybe I can go home in a few hours.
Then the other shoe dropped. When I got up to pee, a threw up everything I ate. This continued. I kept vomiting every time I sat up or got up to pee. Nausea medication was not even touching me and I was too afraid to take more pain meds because of how fucked up my stomach was feeling.
After a few hours I felt better and finally made it to bathroom and back to bed without being sick. So we decided it was time for me to try and go home. Nurse gave me a pain pill and nausea medication for the trip home. An aide put me in a wheelchair to take me to the front door. I almost made it to the door when…
I had a seizure. Now, I don’t remember any of this. In fact, I’m pretty sure I started the seizure before we got off the elevator because I don’t remember getting down to the first floor. The aide said she noticed when I dropped everything from my lap. She thought I had just dropped it but when she went to pick it up, what I was doing freaked her out. When I came to, she was gently touching me and speaking to me. I was confused, didn’t know where I was or what was going on. I think the first words out of my mouth was – what happened, where am I?
Then I got a huge flush of heat and sweat and started to vomit. Everything came back to me. I felt bad for the poor people down in the entrance who had to witness me being sick.
I only know what happened when the aide was talking to the Charge Nurse, while waiting on E.R. to bring me a bed. The aide said that my head was getting lower and lower and turning really dark red, almost purple. My arms were slowly raising up, palms up with fingers clenching in weird ways. My eyes were open but they had rolled back so you could only see the whites of my eyes. The aide kept saying how she was scared and didn’t know what to do, no one was around so she ran to the closest phone to call the Charge Nurse and that nurse told her to call E.R.
E.R. came with bed and put me back in room. This part was hell. I was in so much pain but because of the seizure the most they could give me was Tylenol. My mother was getting angry, but I understood why. The came and drained me of my blood to do blood cultures. I had a nurse on each arm taking the blood. They had to start another IV in another place and since I was a hard stick that was fun… NOT. Tech had to do an in and out catheter on me for a urine culture. That was not fun, it didn’t hurt so much when she did it but trying to be pee hours later… OMG it burned.
They schedule me for a head CT to be sure I was okay after the seizure and re-admitted me to the 5th floor. I was in a different room. This time my nurse was a very familiar person. She was once a friend of my sister’s back in Jr high and high school. She was so mature and professional I was very impressed. I think she was my favorite nurse in terms of quick response and being helpful in making me as comfortable as possible. I kind of want to put in a good word for her if I can figure out where to do that. It was odd because back when I knew her as a kid she was just this quiet little brat. I never liked her much because of how her and my sister’s other friends treated my sister in their last months of friendship. Funny how much people change with age though. I’m pretty sure she has an 8 year old daughter now. Man, time flies.
Anyway, here I was, back in the hospital and had to stay for Christmas. However, the E.R. doctor had put me on a very strong antibiotic and ever since they started that I.V. all my terrible symptoms went away. I was no longer nauseated and felt like I could relax. They kept telling me that antibiotics don’t help nausea. I get that, but I do know this is not the first time I have been admitted to the hospital for excessive vomiting – to only have it stop once they put me on a strong antibiotic. It may not help nausea but it seems to be stopping whatever is the cause of my nausea. My mother was always saying over and over about how I needed antibiotics, now she is really not going to stop.
They let me go back to regular food on Christmas day though. Blood work was a little messed up but not alarmingly so. I just had low potassium and magnesium – pretty sure the vomiting caused that. So once they got that back up from I.V. drips I was good. They kept me on the antibiotic for 4 hours, every 8 hours. I got better and better, so when Saturday morning came and the doctor who came, that was covering for my PCP, told me my CT was clear and if I wanted to go home I could. I jumped on it and was like, hell yes I wanna go home. He chuckled and told me this time I should make it all the way.
My sister came to hospital to take me home. She took such good care of me. Helped me get a bath and blow dried my hair so I would stop feeling so gross. Then she drove me to my grandparents for a lovely gluten free lunch that they had prepared. I’m truly blessed with a family that is great in supporting me on that. I got to watch everyone open the gifts that I got them and got to open the present from my mother. It was such a nice time. Then my sister and mother came over and we started to watch the 4th season of Game of Thrones. I went to bed about midnight, making everyone go home because of the bad weather on the way. Good thing I did, they didn’t quite make it before it hit but they were nearly home so they both made it home safe and sound.
Wow, this entry got much longer than I thought it would. There you have it, my lovely Christmas week experience. DX
I’m doing much better still. Got oral antibiotics to take, pain pills, and nausea meds. I’m able to eat just fine and sleeping pretty good. I see my PCP on wed. though he did call and ask if I wanted to come in sooner. I guess he got to read what happened to me. I told him I could wait though. I really didn’t want to try and get out in this bad weather. The ice and snow would be melted by wed. I let my boss know I would be out until wed for sure and then see what my doctor thinks on me going back to work.
I really hope 2016 goes much better than the last few years have. I don’t want to go into surgery anymore. I do have a few more tests to go through with my new GI doctor but I can be hopeful that nothing shows up with those tests and maybe I can be on a good road to not being chronically ill as much. It could be that I was never able to get better because I had two problems and maybe both those issues have been fixed now. One can hope.
If you stuck through and read this all the way I wish I could give you some kind of reward. Thanks a bunch for reading it. ♥ Have a Happy New Year!!!