So, the downright Ugly. This has been building up for a couple of years but about 10 days before Gran’s funeral, it went into overdrive. For the past couple of years, I occasionally faint or near faint. It’s accompanied by sweating and vomiting. I don’t faint every time but I usually feel pretty rough for a while after. I’ve fainted before and damaged both of my feet, I’ve fallen down the stairs because of it and smashed my jaw. Let’s face it, it hasn’t been fun.
However, this particular Saturday morning at about 7am, I had a feeling of indigestion. I ate a few extra strong mints, hoping that it would pass. The pain got worse. I also had really bad back ache all across the base of my back. That was getting worse also. I wondered whether I had slept awkwardly or whether my disc was about to slip again in my back so I tried my stretching exercises on the Yoga mat. I didn’t last long because the indigestion feeling was getting worse and I was starting to feel sick, really sick. I literally crawled to the bathroom and the sweating started. At this point, I knew I would be sick at some point but I didn’t know if I would faint or not so decided to stay on the bathroom floor so I wouldn’t have too far to fall if I did faint. I was sick but it was purely bile.
The sweating was getting worse and the indigestion type pain was becoming intolerable. I was in so much pain and I didn’t know what to do. This was no trapped wind! As I was starting to struggle to breathe, it got to about 8.30am and I dialled 999. The Paramedics arrived very quickly indeed. I had left the front door open for them and crawled back to the sofa. I had a blanket over my body because my body was cold but I had the fan on my face because I was sweating so much. The Paramedics checked me over and gave me some pain relief. There was a lot of vomiting that followed and my breathing regulated. Once the Paramedics were satisfied that my numbers were all good, they left. I had finished vomiting and felt so much better afterwards. The pain in my chest had gone; I still had the back ache but chalked that up to having slept awkwardly. I rested for the rest of the day. I genuinely thought that was it and carried on as normal.
Then, at the beginning of October, it happened again. Only, this time it was so much worse. I lasted 6 hours before I dialled 999 and I was immediately transferred to A&E. I was given oral painkillers and the pain eased in my chest but not in my back. Blood tests were done, a chest x-ray was done and a urine sample was taken. Literally, bang on the dot 4 hours after the first pain relief was given, the pain was back but so much worse. Thankfully, by this point Jill had joined me in A&E. I was screaming in agony. I was sweating profusely. I was vomiting pure bile. Eventually, I was given morphine. I felt like something out of the Alien films. I just wanted whatever was inside of me gone. I just kept asking the A&E staff to make the pain stop. The morphine kicked in and the pain subsided. The vomiting stopped and after 9 hours in A&E, Jill and I were sent home. They couldn’t definitively tell me what the problem was but the working theory was a gastric ulcer caused by stress and my Venlafaxine. I was initially very worried about maybe having to come off the Venlafaxine if that was what was causing the problem.
I had a full blood count done and that’s when things took an even more sinister turn. I had to book an emergency appointment with my GP after the blood test results came back. My haemoglobin levels were low again and my liver numbers were ten times more than they should be. On my last full blood count, my liver levels were fine. My GP proceeded to put through an emergency cancer referral to the Gastro Department at the hospital. Just the mention of the “C” word. I wasn’t expecting that at all. I really was expecting her to tell me that it was an ulcer, take some Omeprazole and we’ll sort out the Venlafaxine. I wasn’t ready for this. The best I could hope for was gall stones or a gall bladder problem. This news came just one week after we found out that Dad has Prostate Cancer and, separate to that, he has to have his gall bladder out. Enough is enough already. I really wanted to phone Gran. I had googled about the gall bladder after getting Dad’s news but decided that I was not going to google anything else until I had a formal and official diagnosis.
Three weeks ago, I saw the big white chief of Gastro at my local hospital. Obviously, he wouldn’t give me any answers but requested further tests – those being a CT Scan and a camera down the throat as well as a camera up the bum! Oh Lordy. I figured I’d probably have to have a camera down the throat and a scan of some description, be it CT or MRI, but not a camera double whammy! That’s just unfair and, quite frankly, just plain wrong!! The CT scan was a doddle. Had to drink bucket loads of water and then they put the iodine solution in me to really brighten up the blood vessels. The only problem with it was the nurse had a few issues getting the cannula in and there was blood everywhere. She asked me if I was on blood thinning medication. I said No but did tell her that I was low on red blood cells so try not to waste what I’ve got! Finally, someone got the joke!
The weekend before last was the camera double whammy. The day before, I had to take the “preparation” called MoviPrep. I kept wanting to call it Movie Prop! Oh, if only it was that fun. This is the stuff that is basically a humdinger of a laxative. You have to get two litres of this stuff down you over the course of four hours and not eat after 1pm on Saturday (as my appointment was 9am Sunday morning). It’s supposed to taste of lemon. Jog right on. I can’t even take lemon flavoured Lemsip when I have a cold. I don’t like lemon flavoured drinks; I don’t even like lemon or lime in my diet coke when I go out. So, you now want me to get two litres of thoroughly disgusting tasting fluid down me in 4 hours. I was gagging and retching after the first half litre. I got it down me though. I really don’t know how. I then read the leaflet that came with the “preparation” and it stated that if you didn’t have a bowel movement after 6 hours, it hadn’t worked. Well, I made the first litre of this stuff at 5.30pm on the Saturday night. 11.25pm on Saturday night and I’m starting to get worried. I had experienced some of the other common side effects – the general feeling of being unwell, the stomach cramps, the shivers but no need to move into the bathroom. Then, pretty much at 11.30pm on the dot, I grabbed the iPad and got comfortable on the toilet. I didn’t get much sleep that night but at 7.45am on the Sunday morning, the taxi arrived to take Jill and I to the hospital. I had to take a taxi because I had to work on the assumption that I was going to have a sedative and wouldn’t be able to drive and Jill doesn’t drive outside of Welling basically.
We arrived early at the hospital and I went in pretty much straight away. Stripped off and wearing the very fetching hospital gowns and a pair of “Dignity Pants” which I thought sounded way too much like Dignitas to me. Well, it made me chuckle. I was asked if wanted the sedative and I declined. Hindsight would dictate that was an error in judgment on my part. The sedative is for the camera down the throat. I’ve had one before without sedative so figured I’d be fine. It wasn’t until later on in the afternoon that I remembered the camera that I’d had before was very tiny, went up my nose first and then down my throat. This one was at least five times the size of that one! I opted for the throat numbing spray and off they went. I gagged. It hurt. I was uncomfortable but it got done. There was no sign of an ulcer down there but they did take a couple of biopsies just to be on the safe side.
It was then a quick flip around of the trolley that I was lying on and off they went to do the next one. This was when we discovered that my body works in very mysterious ways. I had to have my last meal at 1pm on Saturday – a light lunch they said. Well, at 12.45pm on Saturday, I had a smoked salmon sandwich. That, apparently, was still in my stomach which was supposed to be empty by now. Oh, that wasn’t the half of it. The doctor continued with the camera but couldn’t get further into the bowel because it was still partly full. Oh, you are just having a laugh. I went through that hell on Saturday night with that “preparation” to be told that they couldn’t complete the colonoscopy. It gets better still. I have to have it done again but, this time, with the “extended preparation”. Double, yes double, the amount of MoviPrep that I had before. I could barely get two litres down me, how in the name of all that his Holy am I going to get the additional litres down me?
I am now waiting the phone call or letter that tells me when I have to go through that particular corner of Hell again. I’m hoping that the CT scan and endoscopy may be enough for the Big White Chief at the hospital to determine what’s wrong and I don’t have to experience MoviPrep again.
Given that I am supposed to be an “urgent” referral, I have taken matters into my own hands. I phoned the hospital to speak to my consultant’s secretary. I got her voicemail, which I wasn’t surprised about, but what I was surprised about was the message saying that she would attempt to return my call in approximately three business days. Not feeling quite so “urgent” now. The three business days are up today so I’m hoping that I get the call that says I don’t have to go through the “extended preparation” and that he has enough information to see me again. The best I can hope for is gall stones or a gall bladder problem. The alternatives are far too scary to even contemplate. It would be somewhat ironic though if I get to do some Daddy/Daughter bonding with Dad because we both have to have our gall bladders taken out! I will, of course, keep you updated. For now, I just have to deal with the pain.
Living The BPD Life 