I'm writing about this because it's a part of my
journey. I'm writing about this so that I don't forget.
Wednesday after lunch, I started to feel pain in my back- right around my kidney. I figured with all the stress, and maybe I wasn't drinking enough water that I possibly had a kidney infection. I left work early in a great deal of pain and went to a walk-in clinic. I insisted it had to be an infection. They took a quick urine sample and found that there was no infection, and based on my pain, most likely a kidney stone. I took the doctor's advice and a prescription to help things move along.
The next day, the same pain. Only a little more intense. It had changed and moved, it was now radiating through my core, hurting between my ribs at the base, right on top of my stomach. Having an appointment scheduled to talk to my doctor early Friday morning, I decided to just go home, drink water and try to make myself comfortable until I could get some advice.
Friday morning rolls around, and it seems to have calmed down, although persistent and concerning. I explained to my doctor, she said it could very well be a gallstone, and that if the pain got worse or I felt feverish to go to the hospital right away. I thought to myself, I don't think it'll get bad enough to have to do that. But it did.
We were already home for farming Friday and the doc's appointment, so we did what we do and went up to the farmstead to get some work done. We set up the tent, and started to work on the barn and clearing bramble off the fence. I felt a bit hungry, so I stopped for a snack. Little did I know, I was about to experience the absolute worst pain of my life (so far..).
The pain came on in a matter of minutes, about half an hour after eating. It was intense, suffocating pain. It started as a sharp pinch in my core, and like lighting quickly radiated out through my spine and ribs. I felt like I was simultaneously being blown apart from the inside, and crushed from the outside right around my middle. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't drive, in fact I couldn't stop myself from crying out in pain. We left everything as it was and went back to the house.
I tried the usual, slam some water and sit on the toilet. Everything I tried to do (or not do) seemed to make it worse. I became delirious in pain. I was starting to pass out from it. I begged J not to call 911, but alas... I could hear him on the phone. They could hear me screaming. An ambulance was sent to pick me up right away. I could barely get myself up, but I walked into the ambulance hunched over. They strapped a mask on me and handed me a "just in case" bag.. the pain was making me nauseous. I had completely lost my lunch just before they arrived.
The ambulance attendant asked for a brief of my medical history, starting from now and working back. I realized that by the time I had made it all the way back to my first memories of digestive issues, we were already in town.. a 20 minute drive. The list is long, and health has been a struggle for me my whole life. We arrived at the hospital, and the pain was starting to subside. Blood was drawn, vials were taken.
My bloodwork was showing that my kidneys were in fact inflamed, and my liver enzymes were crazy high. Normal being from 10 to 60 units per liter. Mine was closer to 800. Same with my pancreatic enzymes, they were almost 10 times higher than they should be. They monitored me for a few hours, put an order in for an ultrasound, and eventually sent me home. I was instructed to have liquids if anything, and get some rest, and return in the morning to retest my blood.
The phone woke me up. It was the receptionist in the imaging department asking if I could come in right away. Perfect, I had to go back for morning bloodwork anyways. Everything all at once. I was asked if I had eaten or had anything to drink which I hadn't. I went in right away. My blood levels had come way back down, the imaging showed minor swelling. After assessing the symptoms, the doctor on call had concluded that it was a stomach ulcer and depletion of my stomach lining, but also a possibility of pancreatitis. He didn't think it was likely given my age and general healthy lifestyle, but worth keeping an eye on. He instructed me to stick to a liquid diet for a few days to let my system rest.
Perfect, I thought.. I have a juicer and a blender and it's kind of already how I do. Sunday afternoon rolls around, I'd just made a batch of clear celery and cucumber green juice, and an opportunity arose for us to collect a free table saw from a curbside in town. I drank the juice, loaded into the van, and made it to town and *almost* all the way back... the gas station was closer, so I pulled over. I didn't realize till I went in, of course.. because of the virus, public washrooms aren't open. I went back out towards the van and collapsed.
I did what I was told. I had stuck to liquids, I thought I was okay. But this time.. this time was even more intense than ever. I felt like I drank a bottle of molten lava. I was screaming uncontrollably. J picked me up and took me the rest of the way home so that I could die on the toilet. He was visibly upset. I begged him not to call an ambulance in my disoriented screams. He called my parents, he called his parents.. he was in tears and didn't know what to do. He demanded I get in the truck, he could get me to the hospital faster than waiting for the ambulance. Once my guts finally finished spasming out all the liquids I'd consumed, I literally crawled bawling to the truck.
It was the longest ride of my life. I struggled to breathe between heaving from the pain. He pulled up at the emergency doors and I tumbled out into the driveway. The doctor from the morning before was there. He wasn't impressed to see me back. I insisted that I'd followed his instruction, and yet the pain had doubled this time. It was the worst thing I'd felt ever. I was delirious. I was hooked up to the cartiograph machine, and then rushed into an xray.
After several attempts on my tiny veins, the nurse finally found a place to put an IV and immediately loaded me up. Within minutes I couldn't feel a thing. I barely remember being hooked up to a drip, and being taken to a bed. All I remember was wretching every time I tried to move from the sheer intensity of the morphine. They'd stacked me with a quadruple dose. Given the amount of pain I was in, I wasn't about to complain...
I came to, wide awake of course, at 4am as I do, in a bed in a big room by myself. I still had my mukluks on in the bed. Once I was able to stand, I rolled my IV stand and myself to the washroom. And that's about as far as I'd get.
It was a long day. It seemed like an eternity had passed in this big room all alone. The nurse came in to change my fluid bag. I spent most of my time trying to find a position to lay that was tolerable for the pain in my core, but possible without ripping the tube from my vein. I wished I'd brought a book. The pain was still present, but it left enough space for my mind to wander.
Around 9am, an unexpected food tray arrived. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to eat it. Jello, apple juice and coffee. I asked for water. I tried a couple scoops of jello and just a sip of juice, and it was near instant regret. As the pain rose in my torso, I felt a bit defeated. Frustration set in. I asked the nurse if I could have broth and tea next time.
1030am. I'm unhooked. The IV port was still in my hand, but I was given time off the drip to adjust for lunch. Eventually I got my broth and tea. It took a while, but I was able to drink most of it down. It felt good to be able to drink something warm. Just after I finished, the doctor came in. She told me what was going on with my pancreas, and then started through the list of possible reasons. First question as always, do you drink? No, I haven't for years. It's the most common cause if pancreatitis and I have never been a drinker. Smoke? Nope, quit two years ago. Saturated fats? Processed foods? No and no.. in fact, I often get made fun of at work for how healthy I eat.
I explained to her all the other problems I've had over the years, and the events leading up to this, and as soon as I mentioned a slough of autoimmune disorders I've had and currently struggle with, it clicked. It's my own immune system. But why? That's the mystery...
Sooo how long I gotta stay in the hospital for? Given the current state of things, the hospital is an extra anxious place to be. She said to me, as soon as we're sure you can at least keep something liquid down. I pointed to the empty bowl and half empty tea. I explained to her that I can't handle the rest of the acidy sugary things on a good day. She implied that she'd rather I stay to avoid another episode, but if I could promise to stick to their strict guidelines, I could be allowed to leave until my CT scan. We talked and waited a little bit longer to be sure. Once I proved I was capable, the discharge forms were completed and the port removed from my hand.
My doctor called as soon as I got home. She'd received the reports from the hospital from all my visits over the weekend, and knowing me, she'd praised me for actually going to a hospital like she'd said. I have an amazing doctor, and I know I'm lucky for that. She's willing to help me find the best specialists to look into what's happening to me. But for now, rest. She ordered me to stay home. I need to heal.
So, that's what imma do...
To be continued.
