Sick of Being Sick- AGAIN! -UPDATED

As mentioned in my last post, I am back home after a several day stay at the Hospital. It was pretty serious, but now that the whole experience is behind me I can look back and laugh. Or, I can look at what the whole thing cost us and cry. Really hard.

It all began a few weeks ago, when one day out of the blue, I started to have severe pain in my abdomen. I have had these pains before, and those pains had led me to a Hospital stay and the knowledge that I have a pancreatic mass that I will be carrying around with me forever (you can read all about that fun time here ). At the time I got the original diagnosis, I was told that if I followed the Doctor's instructions and took care of myself, I would not experience such pain again.

Well, big surprise, but I guess I didn't do so well following instructions and taking care of myself, because the pain was back, and it seemed worse than before. So I headed for my local emergency room, and, after it was established that I would be able to pay for treatment, I was pumped full of pain killers and left in a room to wait for further diagnosis. So I waited. And waited. And... Well I waited so long and the pain killers did their job so well that I didn't feel the need for further treatment. I detached the myriad of tubes connected to me went home. A stupid move? You bet! It didn't seem so at the time though: I felt great all weekend!

Me, heavily sedated, at the hospital staff's
request, I suspect

Then on Sunday, my Sister passed away. We held the wake on Tuesday and then prepared ourselves for her Funeral on Wednesday. It was going to be a bad day, but not for the reasons I expected.


Wednesday morning I awoke to find that my pain was back, and worse than ever. I tried to pull myself together  for the Funeral. I figured I could suffer through that, then head for the ER. Well, I couldn't, and was soon back at the same Hospital I had just so recently escaped from. The pain was so bad this time, and I was pumped up with such a dizzying array of drugs that I remember none of the next few days' events. Which is a good thing because according to Perfect Wifey (who had a front row seat to all this), I was not on my best behavior.

According to PW, in my altered state I, at various times:

• Was under the impression that I was a bad actor currently appearing in a B-Horror film, and I didn't think much of the crew (a.k.a. the Hospital staff).

• I thought I was staying at a vacation resort in Rhode Island. My Brother-In-Law said that it was with great pride that I pointed out how posh the bathroom was. It was a bucket in the corner.

• I told everyone around that at any moment now the 3 Stooges were coming for a visit.

Better get up soon. The Stooges will
be here any minute now!

I also tried to leave. A lot. So they finally had me restrained.

They also decided that what I officially had was a "Pancreatic Mass with a blockage in my bile duct". They would have to place a "stent" in there, but the procedure would have to be done at a Hospital in Boston, because they did not have the equipment for it there. On hearing of my behavior, I wonder if they really did have the equipment, but just wanted me outta there.

Whatever, off to Boston I went, to a Hospital that was actually the setting for the TV series "St. Elsewhere"!

"Commies?!"

At this Hospital,  they apparently didn't pay too much attention to the pain killer mix I had been given at the previous place, and gave me some of their own. My behavior got even worse. I was given a room that I shared with a very nice old man who was originally from Russia, along with his wife. I screamed my accusations that they were Communist Spies so loudly, I was finally given a room of my own.

Eventually, I was given the surgery and began to come around to "normal". After hearing about how badly I behaved, I felt terrible, and spent the rest of my stay apologizing to the staff. The "Communist Couple" had left, so I couldn't apologize to them. PW says not to worry about it though, as they felt sorry for me being so sick.

My adventures weren't completely over with, of course. In addition to the usual Hospital round-the-clock wake-ups to check my blood pressure, one morning I was woken at 4:30 AM so I could have my weight checked. Why they needed that info at that hour is something I never did find out.

Me as Fatty McButterpants.
Don't lift that jonny, if you
know what's good for ya!

I also almost got another room mate. I guess since I had started to behave myself, they decided to risk it. A crew was busily cleaning my room when a supervisor came in and told them to stop. They wouldn't need me to share my room after all, since my prospective roomie had died from their gun shot wounds! Boston Hospitals-YIKES! At my home town Hospital, the only reason you lose a room mate is because they foolishly walk out  of the Hospital because they get tired of waiting and they're idiots...

Also, since I had been so out of it and restrained for so long, I was fed by an IV drip. As a result of all that "nourishment" and inactivity, I gained 35 pounds, all in water weight, and all below the belt. I could barely move, and I guess it's gonna be a while until I am back to my "normal" weight and size. My legs and feet look like Fred Flintstone's. My slippers don't even fit!

So, my adventures in the world of medicine will continue for a spell. Not only do I have to lose all this weight (it's swimsuit season after all, and I wouldn't wanna disappoint the "ladies"), it turns out I need  one more surgery in August, so that they can put a "permanent" stent in. Why they didn't just put in a permanent stent to begin with I don't know. I'm just gonna do whatever they tell me to do and hope I recover ASAP!

And wait patiently for the 3 Stooges to show up.

UPDATE 7/3/2012-  I suppose some of you out there are wondering why there have been no more posts since I wrote the above. Well, a couple of days after posting, I awoke with a horrible burning pain in my left leg. It turns out I had developed an infection thanks to my previous "procedure", so it was back into the hospital for me.

Fortunately, the hospital I stayed at this time was far better than the previous one. The staff at this hospital actually got to the bottom of what was truly wrong with me, and put me on a plan that will eventually restore me to my former glory.

A strategically-placed giant cat insures the
patient won't roll off the couch.

Unfortunately, I had to stay in the hospital for two weeks (!) while they figured out my diagnosis. I also have to have another invasive procedure done on Thursday. I am home now though, and Riley and Rocco are just as attentive to my needs as any nurse at the hospital. Long story short: It may be awhile until you see any new posts from me. Fret not, though, I shall return, sooner or later with gobs of guffaws for your reading pleasure.

Now I gotta run. I have to make sure I have a clean johnny to wear on Thursday...

Jacquie

Sad times strike the White Family again. On May 20, 2012, we lost our sister Jacquie to that pernicious little bastard cancer. She was far, far too young.

It's no secret in my family that my sister and I didn't see eye-to eye on many things, but she was my sister. I loved her and I'll miss her. Even though we didn't always get along, she was always there if I needed her. A fact that I am only beginning appreciate now. She was also an early fan of this blog, although she would, despite my requests, never recommend it to her friends (Gee, I wonder why?). I was touched at her Wake by the hundreds of  people, total strangers to me, who told wonderful stories about what kindnesses Jacquie had done for them, and how much they loved her.

Regular readers of this blog will remember that my Mother always hated it when you said "goodbye" to her. "It sounds so final", she would say, "like we'll never see each other again. Say, 'so long', instead".

So long, Jac.

What makes my sister's passing extra sad is that I never got to say a real farewell to her. I was at her Wake, but on the day of her Funeral, I myself was being rushed to the hospital with a life-threatening, surgery-requiring condition of my own! I'll save that tale for next time. Believe it or not, it's smile-packed tale of hilarity!