Thursday, March 8, 2012

My Little Piece of Hell

        My older sister and I were always the healthy/safe kids.  My younger siblings were the only ones that were ever taken to the emergency room.  I wanted to go to the emergency room for something exciting like a broken arm/leg, but I was feeling pretty good seeing as I hadn't hurt myself.

WARNING:  This post contains details about gross bodily functions.  Don't read it if you don't want to know.

        February 28, 2012: It was 6 pm, I had eaten dinner and was trying to do homework.  My back was killing me.  I have always had back issues so my mom figured that was it.  I thought I had lifted something weird and hurt it.  It was stabbing sharp pain that made it impossible to focus or get comfortable.  Around 8 my stomach started hurting.  Since I am celiac, stomach pain and bloating is pretty normal, but this was different.  My tummy kept growing; it was swelling so big.  My tummy also had really sharp pains and I couldn't do anything to make it better (usually if it was from food I could lie down to lessen the pain).
        Around 8:30 my sister and I started watching a show in bed.  I was curled up in a ball on my bed, but everything hurt.  I was ridiculously hot, but then as soon as I would turn on a fan I would be freezing.  I got through about half of the show (45 minutes) before I went to my mom to tell her I felt like I was going to throw up.  I hate throw up.  It is disgusting and I can't handle having to be around it, let alone be the one puking.  I went into my mom's bedroom and curled up on the floor with a bowl.  I was crying because of the pain.  After awhile I was begging to throw up.  I kept asking my mom why I couldn't just throw up.  All the while my tummy was bloating to where I could pass as pregnant.  I don't know what time it started, but finally I threw up.  You know when you are tummy sick, you just have to throw up and that makes you feel better?  That's what I was hoping would happen.  It didn't.  I felt sicker. It sucked.
       My mom thought I had a virus or flu.  I have NEVER felt pain that intense.  I am a baby about being sick, but I don't think I have ever cried.  I was thinking to myself, "If I'm not gonna feel better please just let me die."  Attempting to retrace what you had eaten the past week in between puking is difficult.  I couldn't figure out why I was sick or what was happening.  I just kept praying and begging God to fix it.  I guess around 10 we had to move out of the bedroom into the living room so people could go to bed.  Walking hurt, movement hurt, and not moving hurt.  Everything hurt.  It was living hell.
       My parents were in the room trying to calm me down.  I realized that there was no way I would be able to fall asleep that night.  I was exhausted beyond anything from school and throwing up constantly.  My mom cares for my grandma 24/7 ,so I felt horrible that she wouldn't sleep either.  My dad was kind of just sitting there not knowing what to do.  My little brother kept coming in and asking what he could do (sweetboy).  I was too sick to even get frustrated at him; I couldn't talk back.  It felt like everytime I opened my mouth I was throwing up.  Sorry this story is so gross..  My mom finally gave me phenergan.  I kept throwing up.  No pain left me.  Continued hell.    
        12:30 am Wednesday morning February 29.  Still on the ground in the fetal position crying and puking.  My whole body kept getting tight and I could barely breathe.  I started hyperventilating.  My legs, hands, and face kept going all tingly.  It was so weird and freaked me out even more which brought on more hyperventilating.  All of a sudden I couldn't move; it started with my hands.  My muscles were frozen (my mom said they spazzed/cramped).  I asked my mom why my hands were stuck, then I realized my legs were too.  I couldn't move.  My parents pulled me up and my mom said my eyes were rolling back in my head and my head was going back. I guess then my parents started freaking out and decided it wasn't just a virus.
        My dad pulled the truck into the driveway and got me shoes (and my blankie).  They walked me out to the car and handed me a bowl for the road.  My mom drove while dad stayed behind.  It only took like 8  minutes to get to the emergency room, but I was scared they would take too long.  I kept saying not to take me because I didn't wanna be stuck in a waiting room chair.  We got to the emergency room and I could barley walk.  Thank God I looked pitiful enough to where they immediately checked my "vitals."  I didn't have a fever even though I was sweating.  My blood pressure was 80 something over 50 something.
       It felt like hours, but I think it was only like 10 minutes max we had to wait.  The nurse got a wheelchair for me, and we rushed to a room.  I was so tired, but I hated being in the hospital bed.  I couldn't get comfy and I felt confined.  Doctors and nurses wouldn't leave me alone.  They kept asking me questions instead of asking my mom.  But she forgot what medicine I was allergic to, so good thing I was partially there!  I was majorly dehydrated, so I was immediately hooked up to an IV and they took some blood.  I also had the thing that takes blood pressure on my arm constantly and the lil thing on your finger that takes oxygen levels (?).  Every five minutes they checked me.  I had to get out of bed once again and have a CT scan.  That sucked; my mom had to stay outside.  I was still in just as much pain, but had to lay still with my arms above my head and breathe how the guy told me to.  I didn't like the scan guy.
        When I got back I was FINALLY given morphine and that quickly relieved my pain.  I fell asleep, but then woke up to a nurse trying to put oxygen on me.  I'm not really sure if I was close to being in real danger; no one would tell me.  Once I fell asleep again my mom kept waking me up because the reader kept saying I wasn't breathing.  It sucked, breathing was an effort.  We take for granted how amazingly we were created.  God made us so that breathing is involuntary.  Having to work to breathe is hard and scary.  At like 2 the doctor came in and woke me up (jerk) and told me that for some reason my intestines were inflamed and my colon was backed up.-gross story-  He said that they wanted to keep an eye on me and keep giving me fluids.  For two hours he made phone calls and such and then I was moved to a real hospital room for the night.
        At this point the morphine was working in me and I felt crazy better even though I was still bloated.  I was moved to the pedi floor and got rechecked and rehooked up to everything.  Once settled into my room my mom left and my dad came.  I felt bad because my mom got maybe 2-4 hours of sleep and my dad had to sleep in a tiny recliner.  But there wasn't really any option; I had to be there.  They didn't have to stay the night with me, but my dad didn't wanna leave me at a hospital alone.  We both fell asleep around 6 in the morning.
        I woke up at 10 am to the doctor checking me and telling me stuff.  I am such a deep sleeper. gahh.  I had a bunch of texts from my mom and older sister.  My older sister had recieved a note that said "Truck is empty. Meg is in hospital. <3 u." My dad had left to take my younger siblings to school.  I don't remember at all what the doctor told me, except that I was not going home that morning and she was mad my dad wasn't there.  When my dad got back I called my nurse and she got the doctor who explained everything to dad.  Basically the CT scan showed that my intestines were asleep (she said these exact words).  She said I had to have an xray and then we would try and give me clear liquids and slowly go up to regular diet.
       The last time I had taken morphine was 6 in the morning, I was feeling a lot better just exhausted.  I went and had my xray done and she said that it looked like my intestines were awake again, but I was slightly constipated.  They had no idea what the cause was, but the surgeon said I wouldn't need surgery.  He was very optimistic and told me to just eat regular food and just make sure it was low-gluten.  Thank you mister idiot.  People that work in hospitals are surprising.  Basically I had to stay there and continue with my IV fluids and then try liquid and food.  I did fine with liquids and realized how hungry I was.  I was really scared to eat because of how much I had thrown up.  I ate like a 1/4 of the lunch they brought me.
        My nurse said that I couldn't be discharged until I had had a bowel movement.  That made me mad.  I wanted to go home.  Finally in the evening it happened.  We had dinner -Olive Garden that my bestfriends parents brought(:- then I was discharged around like 8 pm.  I got home and went right to bed.  The doctor gave me orders to have a follow-up in two days with the doctor that diagnosed me with celiac.  This post is long enough so I will do a second one about the follow-up appointment.      

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