April since I was last here. Alot of things have happened to contribute to my delinquency. Mostly it's was my guts. I have Crohns Disease. I had a massive flare up in the end of May. I didn't realise I'd been having a problem with Crohns. I thought I'd been having a run of being sick and have the flu since the end of last year. I kept getting a fever, and body aches. One time I thought I had the stomach flu the end of Dec. Looking back, it was a flare up with a partial obstruction in my intestines. The end of this May my brother-in-law was over Bar-B-Queing for us. He made steaks with sauted onion, mushrooms, and wild asperagus we'd picked. We also had corn on the cob roasted on the grill. The only thing out of all that I really should have eaten was the steak. Of course I had some of all of it. It was soo yummy. I'd also been drinking a bit more than I should have. I know alcohal messes with the Crohns.
Mon morning after all this food, my stomach was gurgling like Crazy as I got up to get in the shower. I almost didn't make it out of the shower before I had to go to the bathroom. I felt a little like Ick, but a friend of mine was coming through Idaho on his way back home, and promised to stop by at work and say hi for a half hour or so. And I'm dumb enough to need to be bleeding from the head before I call out sick from work. I felt mostly ok till I got about half way to Jerome. I had to pull off the side of the highway to throw up. Jess was with me and thought it was totally gross. When I got to work I had to heave again. I thought I just had a hangover from the Mike's Hard I had the night before. Why I thought that I'll never know, because I don't get sick at my stomach with a hang over. All the food I'd had te night before all came back up. None of it was digested, none of it seemed to have passed through my stomach to my intestines.
At work I stayed out in the truck while Jess went in. I thought I just needed to ick the seat back and lay still for a little while and I'd be fine. The first dog came in, and I stayed out there. Occasionally I'd be sick to my stomach again. I did come in when Quix pulled up. We visisted for about half an hour. I was queasy and my stomach hurt the whole time, but I ignored it. After he left Jess washed my dog while I got sicker and sicker. I tried to start grooming it, but the pain was becoming unbearable, and I was still throwing up. About 3/4 of the way through the dog I had Jess call Scott and tell him I needed him to come get me. I was too sick to stay. I changed that to I Need to go to the HOSPITAL NOW, when he got there. Andrea came with im, and drove my truck home while Scott took me to Gooding County ER.
Die first before you ever decide to go to Gooding County. Seriously. They are good for things like broken bones, and stitches, but usless for things like I had going on. The CT scanned me, said I might have a blockage, definatly a swelling in my intestines. No GI meds, no anti inflamitories. Just loads of pain killers and some antibiotics. I was bloating so badly it hurt to breath. I layed there and cried alot from the pain. After three days they decided to do a surgery consult. I'd had a physical therapist come and make me walk up and down the hallways, and see if I could get up stairs on my own in case they sent me home. I don't remember alot of it. So much pain meds, and so much pain.
Scott decided he'd had enough of County's lack of doing anything for me. He and Honey Jo came and had me sign myself out of the hospital. They were taking me to Twin Falls. It was their brand new hospital. They had GI docs on staff. I went in through the ER, got admittted, CT scanned again, X rays, and sure enough I had a complete obstruction, and my intestines had perforated. I was leaking nasty stuff into my guts. I had a nasty infection and was not far from going septic. By now I was so bloated, and in so much pain, my diaphram couldn't expand and I was having trouble breathing. I was on oxygen. They realized I was having an allergic reaction to the Morphine. I was trying to itch all the skin off my face. It was Wednesdy afternoon, and they scheduled me for surgery Thurday morning.
I remember going into the operating room. Laying down flat with my legs stretched out was agonizing. The mask they put over my face was cutting off all my air. I was crying and bout to panic right the fuck out. When I had surgeries before, they gave me something to make me tired and relax me. Not this time. The nurse had ahold of my throat to help keep it open as I went under and I felt like I was choking. I remember shifting my jaw over enough that there was a gap between the mask and my face, and I could feel fresh air coming in. I think that was the only thing keeping me from full panic mode and trying to get off the table. I was about three seconds from being hysterical when I finally went under.
Waking up sucked ass. I remember coming to a few times with tears leaking out of my closed eyes. I hurt so incredibly bad. Another shot and out I went. I don't remember getting back to my room. I don't remember Scott or being in recovery. I remember waking up in pain again in my room, in my bed, ice packs on my stomach. I don't think there was a time when I was awake the whole 12 days I was in there when I was pain free, even for half an hour. The gas was building up in my guts and it stabbed through me all the time. Every deep breath, walking, lying down, it didn't matter. I was having issues with having to pee. I had a huge urgency to go, but I couldn't go. I had to have pills to controll the bladder muscle spasms. My guts took alot longer than they figured they would to start working again. I was afraid to eat anything for fear of getting blocked up again.
I tried to get off the pain meds as fast as I could. I don't think he would have said that if he could feel the agaony I was in. Get up and walk. The more you walk, the faster you can get out of here. Every time he came in, I was trying so hard to keep it together. Not let on how much I was hurting. Be strong. Tough it out. Walk, walk, walk. I'd be walking the halls continuously through the night. I was in too much pain to sleep. I'd start to fall asleep walking, and come to as my knees buckled, still walking down the hall.
I had issues with the IV. It started to leak. Not blood, but all the meds they were pumping into me. I had an idiot just out of training nurse who didn't read my chart right. I was allowed 1-2 pain pills every 4 hours, and one shot every 2. I was nauseous, and she couldn't give me anthing by IV for it. I wasnt allowed another pain pill she said. No more pain meds for two hours. She was stupid. I was allowed another pill, and she should have given me a shot before we started playing with the IV. It took three hours, and 8 people to get my IV restarted. I just layed there and cried. They blew so many of my veins. I was stuck about 22 more times in three hours. My arms were bruised like I'd been beaten. And Scott wondered wy I was such an emotional wreck when he came to see me.
I cried over everything. Just watching the TV, there was a show about women finding out they were pregnant, and having their babies on Discovery channel. Just watching one woman in pain through delivery was enough to make me start sobbing at the remembered pain of what I just went through. No fucking wonder I cried at everything.