Yeah, you read that right.
On Tuesday evening, I got my lunch and everything ready for work the next day. I went to bed and everything was fine. But then, I woke up around 2 am. My stomach was absolutely KILLING me. I couldn’t sit still. Still hunched over, I made my way to the kitchen and quietly made myself a hot water bottle-I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I crawled back upstairs and into my bed with my hot water bottle and I chugged back a few swigs of pepto bismol. To no avail.
I couldn’t bring myself to even search for gravol, so I asked my sister. Unfortunately, she only had those ginger flavoured chewable ones. The last time I took those, I threw up. This time was no different.
Nothing was providing me with a shred of relief. I was in so much pain. I had my sister tell my parents, as it was becoming (literally) painfully obvious that an ER would be in my future.I threw on any clothes that were in arm’s reach, put them on, and headed to the ER with my Dad.
A shred of happiness to this situation was the ER was completely empty when we arrived. The time that I arrived and the time that I was taken in was about 15 minutes.
I was immediately given IV fluids as well as pain medication…sweet, heavenly pain medication. I was also given anti-nausea medication as well. The IV fluids kept flowing, as I was very much dehydrated. My heart raced at 130 bpm because of my lack of hydration. An ECG showed no abnormalities. I did an X-ray, blood tests, etc. As a precaution, I was admitted.
I expected to be there overnight and go home by Thursday. I didn’t actually get home until the weekend. I felt good after I was being taken up to my room, but had a rough night. The days that followed were better.
Odd things happened-an entire set of lab tests were lost, and I had to repeat them. I had to refuse to do bloodwork a couple of times because I felt it was excessive. I don’t have veins, especially since my main vein had an IV in it. For that reason, anytime blood was drawn, it was drawn from the veins in my hand. That doesn’t tickle, especially when you have a nurse who isn’t especially skilled in the art of inserting needles into tiny veins. Another time, a blood tech answered her cell phone and had a (brief) conversation with someone while there was a needle sticking out of the top of my hand. I was beyond annoyed. At another point, a doctor told me that it was almost certainly ok for me to go home, and he would go and check with the team. Well, he never came back. So I didn’t get to go home as I planned. I was SO MAD AT HIM!
I cried a lot. Cried from frustration, and cried from pain. The fact that I was admitted to the hospital caused me to miss me ortho appointment that I had. I’ve been waiting a month for this appointment and was very disappointed when I had to miss it. I pleaded for them to let me go, as I felt just fine. They refused. In fact, everyone that came to visit me had to wear gloves and a gown, since the reason for my upset stomach hadn’t been determined and they didn’t want the run the risk of me “infecting” anyone.
So in the end, it was probably just a regular stomach bug. The CT scan I did showed minor abnormalities, so I’ll have to repeat it in a few months. Hopefully it’s nothing, as I don’t need any more “abnormalities”. Sometimes I feel like a tattered piece of paper being held together by tape!
Now, I’m waiting to hear back from my transplant coordinator who will try to get me another appointment with the ortho doctor. I’m praying that it’s soon. I was so mad that I was forced to miss it. SO MAD.
I’m glad to be home. I’ll resume limping around until I can finally see the surgeon, book a date, and have something to look forward to.