Freaky Friday

Stumbling to the bathroom I am aware of how large my stomach feels despite the fact I have not eaten yet.
Mouth is dry, head feels like cotton wool. Its like a hangover but without the booze or the fun of the previous evening.
I sit on the toilet trying to wake up, realising that I’ve only clocked about 4 hours sleep I yawn sleepily and am disturbed to feel a sharp pain shoot up my left side.
Feeling suddenly awake, I feel a deep spasm and a wave of nausea hit me. Grabbing the side of the radiator, I gingerly stand and breathe deeply until the spasm passes.

Opening my eyes everything’s a tad hazy, and I realise I’m on my back staring at the ceiling. Fab. I’ve passed out.
Slowly getting up I go downstairs and wake up the boy

“Baby, I’m going to the hospital”,

Considering he’s been trying to get me to hospital a good few days before this, I would have thought he would have been a bit more enthusiastic. Instead I am met with a grumble of it being early and that we should go later.

Sighing, I call a taxi and inform work that I will not be making an appearance today.
Waking the boy again, he is disgruntled but happy that I am finally making my way to the hospital.

After the initial wait in a&e, which for once doesn’t take that long, I am asked to put a gown on and pee into a pot.

My pee is decidedly shy when asked to make an appearance and I spend at least 15 minutes trying to coax it out and inevitably pee on my hand. The moment I have excruciatingly filled the pot, I pee like a normal person instead of a dribble, my bladder laughing at me.

I conclude that all my organs hate me.

Abdominal xray and a chat with a doctor who clearly hasn’t a clue what an internal J Pouch is. Once again I feel like I should carry a diagram of what my operation entails and what my insides look like.
More waiting, some sleeping, 2 nurses try to take blood but its not happening, I’m pricked with needles four times and my blood just isn’t playing nice.
Fifth times a charm apparently, but even then they have to wiggle the needle to get the tubes filled.

I get told I’m going to a ward and I start to get upset. I hate staying in hospitals and every time they put me on a ward I end up staying for a prolonged period of time.
“We’re taking you up to page ward”
And I burst into tears.
Weirdly this time last year I was in hospital for a flare of UC and I ended up having an emergency operation.
What ward was I on? Page.
Tears are streaming now and I’m panicking, No ones told me what’s wrong with my pouch and I’m so scared.
The boy manages to calm me down and the nurses are lovely.
Fluids are hooked up and a chest xray is booked.

A surgical doctor sees me, I’m grateful for the understanding.
After examining me the doctor books an ultrasound stating that it might not be the pouch that is causing the initial problem.

After hours of waiting and several scans later I am told the reason for my pain is, the dreaded cyst.
The little sod has grown and brought some friends. I now have a 10mm cyst on my right ovary and 2 4mm cysts on both ovaries.

I am thankfully sent home with some amazing pain killers. These bad boys have me so drugged I’m just smiling at the world and dreaming of bunnies and unicorns.

So. I will now have a load of appointments to a) determine the outcome of the cysts b) sort out my antibiotics for my pouch c) maybe see my old gastro doctor for some help to live without the antibiotics.

Works going to love me, but as my mum and the boy said, my health comes first at the end of the day. I’ve always been really nervous about what work will say as I don’t want to cause a fuss. But hey, its not like I inflicted this upon myself so I’m afraid I’m just going to have to suck it up and get on with it.

I’ve been having days where I am super pissed off at life. I’m barely surviving let alone living, and I’m deeply annoyed at how I just can’t seem to catch a break.

4 months. I have 4 months to put up with it all and then I’m off to Australia. I just really hope my body settles down before then, my insurance is already sky high, the last thing I need is to get to Australia and be sick there too!

Keep your fingers crossed for me guys. I so desperately want to get better!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *