Back to the hospital for me...

[Guest guest]

Hello everyone! I've been lurking for quite some time but thought I'd

check in.

Ok, I'm getting pretty frustrated - like that's something new for any

of us eh? LOL

After several hospitalizations with acute pancreatitis, it only took 2

years to convince my doctors to send me to the specialist who does

what they call a needle-knife procedure to open the scar tissue in my

bile duct. That's an ERCP where they use little tools, but this doctor

is the only one in my region who does this. Don't ask me why he's the

only one, it is a mystery something along the lines of string theory

in physics - I know, I'm a sick puppy. Although I knew I needed to

have the scar tissue removed and kept telling them that, I think it

only took 2 years because of the unwritten rule they teach in medical

schools that the patient automatically looses 70 IQ points the minute

they take a seat in your waiting room.

Anyway, in June, 2 days after my wedding, I drive 2 hours away to

another city to have this thing done. I puked in the car all the way

home but within a week I felt much better. Very tentatively, I started

to eat " normal " foods. It was, after all, the beginning of BBQ season

and since going without for so long, I desperately craved a BBQ hot

dog. Go figure, of all the things I could crave off the BBQ, all I

wanted was a silly hot dog.

I've gotten used to eating low-fat and low-protein so I kept that up

over the ensuing months. Suddenly I started having these mini attacks.

I'd be going along, la, la, la, la, when all of a sudden, URGH! I'd be

struck with such a sharp, deep pain that I'd double over. The first

time that happened I blew it off as gas. After the third attack, I

knew there was trouble in River City.

One day I was feeling pretty good. Let the dog out in the back garden

to do his business and sat in the moonlight on the back steps. When my

dog was done I got up to go back in the house when I started to shake,

beads of sweat literally streamed down my face and I was breathless

with pain and nausea. I walked in the house and I don't know how long

it was but sometime later came to on the kitchen floor. I barely made

it to the bathroom when I started vommiting. That was kind of scary

because I was home alone that night.

Next day I called the doc who asked me to drive the 2 hours for an

appointment. He said that while he had removed a lot of scar tissue,

he couldn't be sure he got it all. He suggested another ERCP but I'd

rather chew tin foil so he suggested I try taking buscopan to see if

that would help the spasms. Well it didn't help - although I found it

works pretty well for menstral cramps - lol.

So today they called to tell me that I'm being admitted in January for

another ERCP. This time I'm going to tell him that I don't care if he

uses a freaking plumber's snake - to get in there and ream out that

duct! I know that I have scar tissue and that it will grow back but

gee, is more than a month without pain too much to ask?

And about pain - why do they treat us like we are junkies or

something? If I have one more nurse say, " well you've had quite a lot

of demerol you shouldn't be in pain " , I'll run screaming through ER

like a banshee!! I have a very high pain tolerance and I've always

been ever so careful with pain meds. I try to tough it out as long as

I can before I take anything because I'm afraid to get addicted.

So as it stands now, I have no pain meds so I'll have to tough it out

over the holidays. I suppose I can always go to ER but if I have to

writhe around in pain for 8 hours, I'd rather do that at home in my

feather bed than on a cold terrazzo floor. Our hospitals are so under

staffed that you can wait up to 12 hours before being seen and unless

your enzymes are up (which seems to be the sole determining factor as

to how badly off you are), you are lucky to get a shot of demerol and

a cab ride home. Arrrrgh!!!

Thanks for letting me vent,

Barbara.