Journaling My Medical Drama of 2010 - The Final Chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3


Last week, I spoke to my friend Maria who I had called accidentally while trying to call my friend Marianne, who was in the hospital for a heart problem. It was great to talk to Maria even if it was an accident. We worked together before I stopped a paying job to be a stay at home mom. She was big Maria (she is over 6 feet tall) and I was little Maria (4'11 and 3/4). For a while we sat next to each other and were just the Maria's. Any way, I digress as usual....while talking to Maria she said, "so are you eer going to write part 4 of the medical drama?" I asked, "you read my blog?" She said, every day and mentioned how she has watched the kids grow through my blog. Cute. She has never even met Goddess but knows all about her.

My reason for holding off on the post was, I wasn't far enough from this particular experience. It was still to raw but I can do it now. After discussing it with Maria on the phone, I am ready to write it down and let it go.

So....Maria and anyone else reading, here is the final installment of my medical drama.

Last we left off, I was home. It was the 21st of December and I was walking up and down the hall.  That night was OK. The next day sometime after lunch, I started feeling some pain. It started small enough but soon progressed to an unbearable. Every breath I took made it worse. Every move I made was excruciating so much so that, doing anything brought tears to my eyes.

When I had to go to the bathroom, Teach would come over, I would wrap my arms around his neck and he would lift me. Then I needed another minute or more before we started moving. The bathroom is only two doorways away but it would take us almost 5 minutes to get there and then the same thing. He would help me with my pants, then lower me to the toilet. Coming in until he was needed to help me again. Goddess saw us coming back from the bathroom and asked if we were dancing.

The pain was so bad that I wanted to die. It felt worse than anything I had ever physically experienced in my life. There was no breathing through it and if I had a knife in my hand, I would have killed myself to stop the suffering.

Beside this pain, my stomach had been leaking a disgusting fluid for two days and although I wasn't concerned about it, it added to my stress. My clothes were soaked. The pain unbearable and unable to even participate in my kids lives. I was there but not.

I called the doctors office on the 23rd asking his front desk to please have him prescribe a pain killer for me.  She asked if I had run out and I explained that I was sent home with nothing but couldn't breath through this pain. She put me on hold and when she came back said, "the doctor wants you to get to the emergency room." He says you shouldn't the kind of pain you are describing. I told him you said, your pain was above a 10 he said, it shouldn't even be at a 4!

Turning to Teach, I started crying and told him what I was told. My biggest fear; "they are going to keep me!"

I called Clarissa and told her that I had to get to the ER, could I drop the kids off to her. She said of course and wouldn't come to the car when I dropped off. She said she could tell by my face how bad my pain was and she didn't want to cry or make me cry.

The ride was unbearable and Teach called out each bump. I was leaking everywhere from my stomach and the pain was above a 10. He got a wheelchair and we headed in telling them that I had just been released 2 days earlier and was told by my surgeon to come back.

We were there almost 5 hours. Waiting for test results while I suffered and worried about the pain and whether they were going to keep me. Teach told everyone who came in that if there was no infection, they would have to give me something for the pain so I could be home for Christmas and if anything, we would come back.

The fluid was supposedly serous fluid and there was nothing showing up in my blood. The verdict was that this was the beginning of an infection from stool going through my sutures. If this was only the beginning, I hate to think what a full fledged infection would have been like.

I asked for pain killers and they gave me an antibiotic. Since being on antibiotics off and on for over 6 months I was concerned about going on another but took it anyway. I guess these people don't believe in antibiotic resistance.

When the nurse was leaving I asked for a pain killer to get me through the ride home. If you know me, I don't take meds unless necessary. If I am taking a pain killer, I NEED it.

I took two because of my pain level and we headed back to get the kids. We called Clarissa to have them ready and I asked for a plastic bag because I was feeling nauseous. I called my girlfriend Susan because she had text me while I was at the hospital and as speaking felt very loopy and tired. Teach was getting the prescription filled while I waited in the car. When he came back I told him I was tired and felt loopy like I couldn't hold my head up.

He asked if we could pick up the kids and take them to McDonalds because he had promised them. I told him fine since I would probably sleep through the ride.

Nope!

We got the kids, drove to Mickey D's and on the way back, I started getting very nauseous. We were only 6 minutes from home when I threw up. Unfortunately, the bag had a leak it leaked all over the car.

For the next two days, I would take my Oxycontin with the biggest regret since it made me nauseous 15 minutes after taking it.  Then I would sit there unable to hold my head up with a throat full of vomit waiting for it to finally come up. It went something like this. Teach would come over with the pill and water. I would take it. He would come and sit with me holding a plastic bag over my face, until I finally 15-30 minutes later would throw up. How the hell do people get addicted to that stuff?

Day 3 I woke up and refused to take the pill. It wasn't worth it. The pain was now an 8 and I could breathe through it.

When I finally got back to the doctor's office he wasn't there and I had the day wrong. So I made an appointment through his office at wound care at the hospital. They were great. I loved them but while there, they made me very nervous. They didn't like the fluid coming out of my stomach, didn't think it was serous. The cultured it. I also had two holes that were refusing to close. One was 3 cm. and the other 10 cm. They wanted to do another cats scan which I refused. They did a sonogram and when they made me head down to admissions to get a hospital band. I totally lost it. They probably thought I was crazy but I was sure I was being admitted. Wiping my tears they stuck some probs in my belly holes and under sonogram tried to figure out what was going on. They worried that there was an infection or that some of the sutures had popped. Really?!

I should have split this into two posts. This is way longer than I intended but there is so much to cover and its not just for you guys my readers, it is for me too.

Anyway, the short story is. Finally after a month of problems after surgery, more antibiotics and still wearing a surgical band. Me and my belly are doing much better. It isn't an attractive belly anymore. It kind of looks like a little baby butt with the line going through my little gunt but really all that matters is I am much better!

Enough!

So how was the start of your New Year?