“One of the most
painful things you can experience in life is not so much physical pain, but
being self-occupied. Because to the extent you are self-occupied, that’s the
extent you will be in pain”
-Joseph
Prince
For
the past four years I’ve ignored a stomach pain.
It wasn't fussy in the beginning, so I really didn't think much of it. It was a silent
nag, quiet and completely sporadic, once a year. It was a tummy ache and that
was it. Took tums, went to bed.
The
first time the pain knocked me out was the fall of 2010.
The
second time the pain kicked my ass was the winter of 2011.
The
similarities between these two times were it only occurred once in those two
years.
Let’s
get one thing straight: I’m not a drinker, I really watch what I eat and I work
out a lot. I’m healthy besides smoking cigs. The reason why I didn't see a
doctor before was one reason: I didn't have insurance. Now, I do.
In
2013, I experienced the stomach pains only once in July. The aches didn’t
return again until February 2014. Nothing until September. The September agony
occurred every weekend with an increase in intensity and frequency.
October
3, 2014, I went to the ER at Christ Hospital. They gave me a numbing drink,
pills, and recommended I see a Gastroentologist. I did see one and he said they
needed to perform a procedure where they’re going to put a camera down my
throat to see my tummy.
October
14, 2014, the procedure happened and the results: HPylori. It’s a bacterial
infection that exists in the lining of the stomach. Dr. Genius didn’t think to
do an MRI or an Ultrasound. I could have avoided a week of bullshit had he done
his job properly in the beginning.
I
waited for a month to receive the results and for the medication, which by this
point, my pains had become unbearable. Dr Genius and his staff were all sorts
of terrible in delivering the results in a timely manner, in addition, he
and his staff, displayed a poor attitude and bestowed 1,000% unprofessionalism
to my mother and I.
November
11, 2014 I went to the ER at Christ Hospital, again. They performed the same
procedure of numbing drink and pills. This time, no more advise was offered from
them. Feeling helpless and a loss of control, I was hoping to get the agony
resolved so I can move on with my life. It’s terrible not knowing what is going
on.
November
12th/13th, 2014 I woke up with a different type of stomach
pain that resulted in cold sweats and me calling 911 where they rushed me to
Palos Community Hospital.
At
Palos, the doctor said they needed to perform a CATscan because they ddidn't know anything about me. The CATscan said the issue of my tummy pains weren’t my
stomach at all. It was my gallbladder and intestines.
Yeah
dude. My gallbladder and intestines.
For
those of you that don’t know me, I’m a logical person. If I see something that
doesn’t fit in the puzzle, I’m going to call out on it. If subject X doesn’t
connect, then my brain is going to assume there are missing pieces of
information.
So
if I’ve been having stomach pains, I’m going to assume that yeah man, my
stomach hurts so let’s fix my tummy. Wasn’t the case.
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In
terms of your gallbladder and liver, they produce bile. My stuff had collected
sludge and stones in four years that it had malfunctioned in producing it the
right way, which caused my gallbladder to fill up and spill the stones into my
intestines, the duct. In order to remove my gallbladder, my intestines had to
be clear of all the stones. Once that procedure was done, the gallbladder was
going to be removed. And I could return to work and normal life and yell at
slow drivers with Randy again.
On
November 13, 2014, Dr. ER said I was being admitted and that surgery was on the
list of shit that I had to do for the next few days. “Get the fuck outta here!!!”
was all I could say.
CATscan
turned to an MRI, which led to an Ultrasound, with the final conclusion of 2
surgeries. Seventy-two hours full of morphine with no food, drink, or cigs. My
friends and family came to town to bask in all of my smart-mouthed glory and my
loving Mother and Father took care of my bullshit.
I
love them. They always create a loving environment and know how to paint the
town a different shade of red than the kind average people are used to.
The
staff at Palos were really great. The nurses were polite, kept their cool with
the difficult overnight visitors, and laughed at all my jokes. If I pressed
that button, they came rushing in and gave me more morphine. It really is great
when you’re in that much pain to be waited on hand and foot.
I
had two neighbors across the hall from me. An older man and an older woman. If
she wasn’t screaming/freaking out, he was and vice versa. Throughout the day
and night, they would yell. Well, my last night there, I couldn’t take the
shouting anymore and dragged my bare ass out of my room, IV attached, hunched
over, hair dirty and matted, armpits stinky, no makeup, and hungry for food. Bloated,
in pain and beyond my wits end, I stood in the middle of that hallway and pulled
a move that really was mostly for my entertainment. I yelled:
Hey! The both of
you need to meet and go out on dates!! You’ll have a great sex life together!
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The
nurses smiled and didn’t reprimand me as they were clearly fed up with the two
disturbing the rest of us.
I
went to sleep that night with a big smile on my face.
November
21, 2014, I’m now clear of pain, a missing gallbladder, still a tiny bit
swollen, back to work and completely in awe of the events from the past week.
I
have great friends that kept on texting and calling, an awesome family that
doted on me, and a surgeon that cleared up all my bullshit within a few days. I’m
a lucky girl to have nothing but love and support. To everyone that blew up my
phone and facebook message box, and email, thanks so much!
Love,
it’s the one thing that cures pain.
