This past week has been a thing

Before I say anything else, I wanted to thank everyone who expressed concern at my vacancy from these parts.  It meant a lot to see your comments appear on my recent blog post, and to get personal emails from ones like Margaret, Sharon, Robin, Siobhan, Tom... Thanks again everyone.

By Thursday I was showing some real whiskers

Last Sunday (June 7) I'd just finished washing up my dinner dishes, and was here in my living room on my laptop, putting the finishing touches on my next blog.

It wasn't anything too special--some family pics, some chili I'd made, and a radical idea my sister Shawn had passed along for treating my long covid.  Maybe I'll go ahead and post it anyway.

Around 6:20pm, I noticed I was taking quicker breaths.  I thought "Please God, don't let this be a gallstone."  It's usually the first symptom.  I've gotten them on occasion the last 4-5 years.  The pain is off the charts, you pace back and forth and breath hard, but it's usually over in 90 minutes.

So the pain did set in, and I shut off my computer, filled up my hot water bottle (to hold against my stomach, it helps) and basically just stood there as the tsunami started.  It gets so bad, you don't dare move a muscle.  Anyway--90 minutes later it felt even worse.  This had never happened before.  I told myself I'd call for an ambulance if it didn't improve by 11pm.

The view from my hospital bed this past week

I didn't make it to 11pm.  By 9pm the pain was so horrendous, I could barely gasp my name and location to 911.  They had a couple paramedics here in 5 minutes.  Several of my neighbors watched them strap me down on a stretcher while I cried out like a maniac, a couple even followed me and the paramedics outside.   

They couldn't have moved faster in the ER.  Pumped me full of drugs and asked if I had a history of kidney or gallstones.  Yes.  I spent the next 6-7 hours getting chest x-rays, CT-scans again & again, an ultrasound and then an MRI.

The resident physician said "It's gallstones alright, but you have a ruptured gall bladder.  You've got stones everywhere.  We're concerned about your bile duct as well.  You're looking at a couple surgeries here, and if we don't do them soon... those drugs in your system will only help so long."

They moved my bed to the Observation Deck, and Monday morning at 11am  Dr. Singh introduced himself and told me he'd be cleaning out and repairing my bile duct.  (He told me mine had several "scary large" ones.)   I don't want to spend a lot of time on this one.  When I came to, I was in my appointed hospital room, nauseated, dizzy and burning all over uncomfortable.   I pulled back my covers, and was literally soaked from the stomach down in urine and feces.  Boy did I cry out for a nurse, and a young man named Starling rushed in with a bucket of water and suds and assured me this happened all the time.  I later learned the doctor may have poked my intestines which caused the avalanche.  

This looks nice a nice view outside my bed, but I had to give this up and sleep in a chair a couple nights later

Tuesday morning, I was weak as hell (but cleaned up at least) when I met with the surgical team who would be removing my gall bladder.  They told me the procedure would be done laparoscopically.  Several inch long incisions would be made across my torso and belly (4 in total) then using cameras they'd go in and tug that monster out.

What they DON'T tell you is that they pump a ton of carbon dioxide gas into your belly to "swell you up", to have better access to things.  It is very painful and takes 2 months on average to return to normal.

My surgery was on Tuesday at 2pm.  They said it went well but I woke up in such horrendous pain I regretted having it.  They filled me up with IV bags of antibiotics and other solutions, I swallowed dozens of pills, but by Wednesday morning every inch of me hurt and I had a very high temperature, over 104F.  I was informed an infection had set in.

By Wednesday night, I felt like I was drowning.  I couldn't catch my breath.  A pulmonologist was brought in, ordered another CT-scan and said "You have post-op pneumonia."   She gave them new antibiotics to pump into me and said I'd have to sleep upright in a chair for awhile.  Here it is, 4 days later and I still cannot lie down.  

They wheeled in a special "hard seat" leather recliner, I sure could use one of those now.

Saturday afternoon, my surgeon came in my room and said "I know you're not in great shape and Pulmonology wants you to stay here awhile longer.  But I think you can heal faster at home.  We'll send you home with all the antibiotics and pain killers you need.  Do you have an upright recliner similar to this one for sleeping?"  I said I did not.  He said "I'm sure you'll figure something out. "

Mercy arranged for a cab to pick me up, and when it arrived I was still so weak a couple of orderlies had to lift me from my wheelchair and place me inside.  (That cab driver did not look happy.)  When I got home, I apologized profusely for the delay and took 10 minutes crawling out of his vehicle.  It took me nearly 20 minutes to get upstairs.

I shuffled into my apartment Saturday night, shocked how barren & plain everything looked.  I have some healthy savings, this place needs fixing up.  Anyway, I'd give anything in the world to lie down right now but when I do my chest gurgles and I can't breathe.  I sure hope this clears up soon.  I'm just glad I have plenty of groceries in the house (not that I have any appetite anyway).

They gave me a couple of breathing apparatus to exercise my lungs, and told me no baths and no lifting anything heavier than a gallon of milk for the next 2 months.  They also gave me a bag of blood thinners, water pills, antibiotics, Oxycodone.  I refuse to take any more of those opioids.

That's it for now.  Thanks for letting me share my story with you.  I am wiped out.