I just called my boss and my carpool buddies to let them know that I just was not going to come in today. I was so sorry that I needed to miss work again! Sometimes you just can't help your health even though I try my best to. It just doesn't work out that way.
Around 1pm my stomach was starting to really hurt. I couldn't handle it being touched. It was so incredibly sensitive. Well at least I had a doctor's appointment today and could finally find some reason to all of this mystery illness that I was experiencing.
Strangely enough I ate some cannabis buds throughout the day and it help me to relieve at least some of the pain. At least it did feel slightly less painful. My shortness of breath had caused me not to want to smoke or even use the vaporizer. I couldn't afford to cough with the pain I was in; at least that is what the shortness of breath caused.
My husband returned home from work just shortly before 3pm and I was already showered, dressed and ready for my doctor's appointment. We drove to the doctor's appointment as I tried my best not to cry. My husband is so good at calming me down when I do cry; he can be so positive and to lift my spirits even in most dire situations.
Once we got to the hospital parking lot, my husband was able to find a spot in the very back of the parking lot. We had a little walk to do. As we were walking across the parking lot, I felt a deep sharp stab of pain right into my abdomen that I stopped walking and tried to get a deep breath. I nearly dropped to my knees; but I stood still and gathered strength from within to continue our walk. My husband came over to my side and helped me walk over to the doctors' offices as we took the elevator up to the 3rd floor.
We checked in as I struggled in severe pain. I tried my best to compose myself as best I could. We only had to wait maybe 3 minutes and it was finally our turn to see the doctor. I was slow to get up and to get walking. Helen the nurse who has known us for the entire 6 years of being diagnosed knew us as a strong couple together. She walked us back to the huge scale and vital check area (I guess that is what you might call this area in the hallway with the all goods for doing that sort of thing). Anyway, she weighed me and then took my blood pressure and then proceeded to walk us back. My husband stopped her and told her that I have been running fevers. She then rushed to grab one of those ear thermometers and quickly took my temperature. It was a low grade fever of 99.6.
My husband helped me undress as I put on the blue cloth to cover me down below (no pants, panties and top OK) I laid down on my back on the table and we awaited for my doctor to enter the room so that we could discuss the situation we felt we were in.
Now our doctor is the one who has performed all of my surgeries. We told him everything that we had just been through this entire week. He gathered that information and then he proceeded to feel my abdomen as I screamed a little as he touched the very sensitive and tender spots. He felt something and suggested that we go downstairs, get an x-ray, blood tests, and a urine analysis. He called for a wheel chair since I couldn't walk and then ordered the x-rays, blood test, etc.
The volunteers took just 3 minutes to arrive and they wheeled me to Radiology in a different building downstairs. I struggled to stand up for the x-ray and when we were finally done with that, my husband then wheeled me in for my blood test (the same building as my doctor, but downstairs and down a long, long hallway). I grabbed a number and we waited to be called up for our blood test. Got the blood test and peed in a cup and then we proceeded back upstairs to my doctor's office.
It was almost 5pm when we went back to his office. He got the results of the x-ray which really didn't say much, but he assumed that I might be need another surgery judging from the pain I was in and the low grade fever. He did not feel that this was some flu bug; this was due to the chemo drug Avastin. The side effects can be severe. In fact he asked one of the nurses to take my temperature just to be sure about a hunch. We walked over to her office just to be sure and she grabbed that really cool ear thermometer (I want one of those!) and placed it in my left ear. 3 seconds later 102.5. I had a high fever which was what he (my doctor) had suspected. He felt I was getting perferations in my intestine and the danger was that they may need to perform emergency surgery on me.
The emergency surgery would be incredibly risky in that I would need to be opened up again and remove part of my intestine. For now, I needed to go to ER and get a CAT scan. I cried but of course we just kept thinking we should have come here much earlier. I was busy blaming myself while my sweet husband was blaming himself. My pain was getting worse by the minute. My husband hurried and wheeled me to the ER. I kept going over and over in my head "what the hell am I so incredibly stubborn?"
Well of course all of the rest of this week, my pain level was on a scale of 1 to 10; 10 being the absolute worst; it was at least an 8. I was crying just last night and perhaps the night before too and at the same time being incredibly hard headed and defiant. I just did not want to go to ER. So here are my reasonings for not wanting to go to ER:
- I did not want to go through the entire process of going to ER (what if it wasn't really an emergency?
- Getting stuck with all kinds of needles
- Not being able to eat or drink anything (only those lemon flavored large q-tips)
- Having an NG Tube more or less froze me wanting to go.
- Using that fiber glass toilet paper after they give me that CT scan solution to drink (that stuff makes you shit like crazy)
I didn't even notice where it was; right then it was in and she was about to get me some morphine for extreme pain I was in. I was just happy that finally something would indeed be done about my pain! My husband was right by side as he had to hurry back to truck to get something for me out of the car. My husband told me and the nurse that I had itched the last time I had Morphine and I had thought it was the Delotted that had given me the itching. I could have been wrong so I agreed with my husband. We waited just a few minutes more as they brought into my own temporary holding room. I could still feel pain in my abdomen and it never got below a 5; even though I kept getting Delotted. It really didn't do too much for the extreme pain I was in.
Finally at 7pm, I told my husband that he should just go home and get some rest. All he had a plastic chair to sleep on and it. He did not wish to go home until we spoke with a doctor. He went outside to find a place to smoke a cigarette and to call his family when the doctor finally appeared. He was older man and mainly didn't tell me much but just assessed my situation and had me on the list for a CAT scan. He ordered me not to have anything to drink or eat. By then I was so incredibly thirsty. I was ready to go into the bathroom and just load myself up with water, but the surgery part scared me enough not to go into survival mode. He ordered me some morphine (instead of Delotted) and some benadryl to get rid of the itching caused by the Delotted.
My husband returned shortly after the doctor had left and I finally told him that he should just go home; feed the animals and get some rest. After my husband left, I awaited the morphine shot and benedryl. I sat on the bed and scratched and scratched. I grabby my IV bag and ran for the bathroom which luckily was close by. I had to pee so bad. I was so temped to drink water but I didn't. I thought about the possibility of having surgery and what if I died because I did this? No way.
I got back to my bed and rehung my IV bag. It was very hard to get out of bed, but I did it! Finally the Morphine and the Benadryl arrived and the nice nurse administered it. I look over and noticed that my IV was in the exact spot I thought I had told the nurse to avoid; my beloved Old Faithful. I have to admit, I was a bit bummed that my IV was right there. I thought this nurse had told me that she was very good? I dealt with it as long as I could which was most of the evening. Anyway, thinking too far ahead here, a young child was move right next to me screaming at the top her or his lungs for just a little over and hour. I tried to sleep with my ears plugged my index fingers. This child had some serious lungs. I was so very thankful when the child finally fell asleep.
A really nice woman walked in from Admissions, I guess I was just before 9pm and had me sign lots of papers and she asked some really scary questions that got me crying and scared. I feared death in this scary surgery that I might have to have. These questions were the type that made you wish you had drawn up a will. She asked me if I were to become unconscious and close to death if I would want them to do what ever it takes to save me and of course I said "absolutely". I then told her that if I were to become brain dead and like Terri Schiavo, then I don't wish to live like that the rest of my life; that's different. I couldn't help but loose it and start crying. I have so much to live for and I want to fight this!
The rest of the evening composed of nurses and doctors coming in every so often to check on me and to give me more morphine for the pain as I awaited the CAT scan.
More to come soon!