(Please note, that the story I present here is simply what I remember. I haven't been in sound mind this entire process but I felt it was necessary to share the story of the experiences I have gone through recently, if for no other reason but to have a record for myself at a later time to revisit)
I am sure you all have remembered hearing me ask questions on Facebook regarding gallbladder surgery. I didn't go into this plan lightly. I thought, I hashed, Matt and I worked out dates that would work out best for both our schedules, when our deductible was up...we planned.
When the big day was here, my friend showed up to my house at 6:30 to watch my kids so Matt could take me in. We got all settled in, they took me back and the next thing I remember, I was gallbladder-less. The doctors got me all started on a clear liquid diet, got me walking the halls and told me that everything was on the up and up. I could go home that afternoon.
That was the plan until an additional scan showed there could be bubbles or stones in my large bile duct and the IG doctor wanted to do a scope. "Simple," he said it would be. "A breeze," even.
All was fine and dandy I supposed until halfway through the procedure, I started coughing which made me aspirate which filled my lungs full of junk. They woke me up in recovery from that procedure and told me all the bad news. These little things, in themselves, weren't bad, per say, but because the procedure also ended up irritating my pancreas, about an hour after waking up, I was in the worst pain I have ever been in, in my life. No amount of pain meds could fix it, no amounts of talking explained it. But as it turned out, I was suffering now from pancreatitis. Something that was no longer easy to fix or easy to just walk away from.
They threw me back on an all IV diet. Then to just make things one more step more complicated, my heart rate jumped into the 160-170s and wouldn't come down. So then I was transferred to the cardiac ward. On that floor I got to deal with nurses that wouldn't answer my call buttons, I wouldn't see the same person twice and was all in all left to feel defeated and wounded.
Because of the narcotics that I was on, I felt like I was having hallucinations. I was having a hard time remembering if I just dreamt Matt wanted me to re-write the entire season of House of Cards but replace all the characters with actual real life political figures, or if it was real. I was also having strange reenactments in my head about the surgery, the following procedure and my nights at the hospital. I wasn't sleeping and I was uncomfortable. And the whole time I never really felt like I was getting any answers.
My dad flew in to stay with me at the hospital. He showed up at a great time because I needed an advocate and I was tired and couldn't cope with these issues on my own. Matt was at home so busy with the kids, it was hard for him to be at the hospital with me. After 4 days on the cardiac ward, they moved me back to the 8th floor to do some follow ups with me before sending me home. They didn't really know what to do with me. The thought about giving me a feeding tube down my nose and sending me home just to follow up later at the hospital. They tried giving me food back but it tasted so awful that I didn't want to eat. There was never an answer as to what to do.
That is, until my original surgeon decided I needed to be seen at Virginia Mason...
(to be continued....)