Living in Limboland

I was in pain Thursday night when I sat at the computer reading AC content and later playing a mindless game on line. I took a couple OTC painkillers and saw Friday morning begin. The pain carried forward. I went slowly about my day. During Friday night it became centered in my left side. I took some more acetaminophen and got out the heating pad. I was a tired pup, my kids would say old dog by Saturday mid-morning. The pain was worse. I would switch from lying down to sitting to pacing. The pain increased. I couldn't keep my legs still fighting it. Then the vomiting began. I called my gastro Dr.'s answering service, an hour passed. My husband said, "Come on, we're going." The 'good' hospital is about 45 minutes away. Poor hubby with a restless, moaning vomiting wife. I scared the receptionist in the emergency room. God bless her, she brought ice and pulled my long hair away from my face. I scared the other people waiting with their own pains and ills. I had a lucid mind, felt embarrassed, I had intense pain, called out from my hunched over position, "God help me."
They get me into a room. I know I have that receptionist to thank. Nurses, doctors surround me. Anti nausea shot is given. I keep filling the bucket. Questions are asked. I try to answer, my mouth is so dry it's hard to talk. I think it must be my crohn's. The pain is horrific. I am toughie but this is mowing me down. They decide to give me morphine. No relief. They switch to a stronger drug. Finally, finally relief. I go for a cat scan. A machine that seemed so intimidating just knowing about it was a welcome avenue to learn what was wrong. Thank God on High. I am wheeled to a room, in and out of it.

A wonderful male nurse hovers over me through the night. He sacrifices the day to help patients at night. I have swift moving intravenous and a pump to self administer the pain killer. The shift changes, new nurses, caring and soothing. They help me sit up so I can get cleaned up. I vomit. There is am ultrasound later in the day. There is a mass. I feel dull to the sound of that word. Later word comes that my kidney is compromised. Doctors are trying to decide who should handle this. More are consulted.

Monday is St. Patrick's Day. I'm still on intravenous. Breakfast is brought, I can actually eat. There is a sweet little paper place mat that says Happy St. Patrick's Day. I feel a twinge of sadness. I always make a treat for my family to commemorate the day. They have started me on pain pills to make sure I can get relief that way. They want me to be able to go home. I am told a surgeon has been found for me. We have to travel to the city over 2 hours away. A dvd is brought for me to carry to the doctor, the surgeon who is capable of handling my case. I go home that evening. Tuesday I am shaky and rest. My son is missing school to stay with me. It's his junior year and I worry about him. I come on AC at some point in the hours I'm awake and fulfill a call. I don't think my Garden Party article is up to par but it does represent thoughts I had been putting together the week earlier.

Wednesday. The surgeon trip. A fiasco. He does not agree with the doctors who have worked on and with me all weekend. He thinks it may be a piece of endometriosis. (I had a hysterectomy in 2006 for a fibroid tumor. The surgeon was surprised with an abundance of endometriosis throughout.) I am confused. Flummoxed seems a good word. He says this is a major surgery especially because I have crohns disease. If I am genuinely worried he'd operate but it was going to be my call. He wants me to think about it. We leave his office, go to a Dunkin Donuts and get hot drinks. I need to sit. I'm a mental mess to be truthful. And I am so very tired.

I tell me sister I now know what limbo means. I am there. My family is in an uproar. I know they are scared to leave me alone. Monday I go to my own Dr. I have asked that she have everything from my weekend so she can give me her assessment. I have to be in charge of my health right now. I need to get ahead of this nightmare.