The Most Excruciating Pain of My Life
Things went rather poorly for me over the weekend, and I’m just starting to put myself back together. (But, the good news is that I’m starting to put myself back together, so that’s what I’m holding onto for the moment).
You see, I spent most of the weekend in the Emergency at our local hospital. Something went drastically wrong with my stomach, and I eventually realized whatever was happening was beyond the realm of I’ll sleep it off and feel better in the morning.
After eating a late lunch on Saturday (around 2pm), I ended up with sever stomach pain, unlike anything I have ever experienced before. As someone who has had gastritis/ulcers in the past, and has been struggling with one for over a month now, I’m used to a certain type of pain that comes along with an attack. And, this pain just wasn’t that. It was literally the worse pain I have ever endured in my life. Then, the diarrhea started, and approximately every 10 minutes for nearly 12 hours I was on the toilet. Again, not normal. But, it wasn’t until I started vomiting every 30 minutes for a few hours that I decided it was time to go to the hospital. By this time it was about 11pm on Saturday evening. (In hindsight, I probably should have gone in sooner).
Of course, it’s just Mr. MPB, a sleeping Little MPB and I at home. I refused to wake up a sleeping baby so that Mr. MPB could drive me to the hospital. At this point I was so sick that we actually debated an ambulance, but ultimately I took a taxi.
The pain would not relent.
I was seen by a nurse almost immediately who began the process of starting all the testing that was needed – gallbladder, pancreases, etc. When I saw the doctor he was pretty awesome. Eventually I was given some IV narcotic (that’s name I don’t remember) but I do recall being told it was stronger then morphine. And something for the nausea. The nausea drugs worked, but the pain killer did not last longer then 30 minutes. Eventually, with the help of some other drugs the pain became tolerable. On the hospitals pain level chart of 10-1, the pain dropped from the 9/10, to a 7, to 5 and eventually about a 2 at about 4am.
At this point the awesome doctor got a bunch of tests lined up for me on Sunday, most importantly being an ultrasound. Of course, every single test came back fine. Which is great because there is no gallbladder issues or pancreases issues, I’m not pregnant, etc. This likely means I am still sitting with the original suspected diagnosis of gastritis and/or an ulcer.
And the only way for that to be confirmed is by a gastrointestinal specialist. Unfortunately the awesome doctor couldn’t arrange that appointment until after the ultrasound which was after his shift was done. Awesome doctor requested the dayshift doctor do this, and I know he made this request because he gave me a print out of the information he was forwarding to the dayshift doctor. Unfortunately the dayshift doctor was a giant jerk who’s priority was to free up my hospital bed for someone he deemed more urgent now that my pain was under control thanks to the aforementioned narcotic. In the end, day shift doctor sent home with 4 Percocet pills to further manage pain and told to keep taking my prevacid. I was also told to check in with my family doctor.
So that’s where I’m currently at. Thankfully the attack has subsided, so I’m not taking Percocet at the moment. But, I’m also petrified to try eating anything again, because I have no desire to ever experience that level of pain again in my life. I’m also not willing to live off Percocet because that’s not really living.
So, basically I ruined father’s day. And I’m now in some sort of starvation mode until I can get into my family doctor and put together a real care plan.
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