Prompted by a couple of, "Hey, what's going on?" messages from my dear friends, my readers, here's a quickie update.
Wednesday the 20th 3:00 pm - leaving work, enthusiasm, looking forward to camping on Friday, not looking forward to all the stuff I had to get done in preparation for camping. Plus, hey! It's my birthday! Woo!
Wednesday the 20th 6:00 pm - Calvin and I have finished dinner, headed back home to prep for camping. I get a decent amount of stuff done.
Wednesday the 20th 9:00 pm - I start feeling some discomfort coming from the area of my solar plexus. I deal for about an hour, then go to bed.
Wednesday the 20th 11:30 pm - I'm now crying. The pain is unbearable. I wake Calvin up so he can take me to the ER. We go. He pulls over so I can barf along the way. We continue on. I register into the ER. I'm given a bed in the ER after about 45 minutes.
Thursday the 21st 1:00 am - I am in AGONY. Bawling my head off. Blood has been taken. Nasty stuff has been drunk to see if it's just an upper G.I. integestion sort of thing. I barf that up, so nope, it isn't. I get wheeled away for an ultrasound of my midsection. Still in AGONY. Still bawling like a baby.
Thursday the 21st 1:30 am (time and details approximate as things get blurry) - An IV is attempted. And attempted again. Much rooting around is going on in my right arm. I'm hollering and kicking my legs. The tech finally listens to Calvin and starts the IV in my hand. The doctor comes in and tells us that my gallbladder has to be removed because it's full of stones and has been "compromised", and that I have pancreatitus.
Thursday the 21st 1:45 am - More crying. Until they give me some Morphine, which is good, good stuff. I'm given a hospital room. It's very nice - more like a hotel than a hospital. Calvin sleeps on the window seat in the room.
Thursday the 21st - daytime. A lady comes in and gives me a facial and massages my hands. Another lady comes in and asks if she can add me to her prayers. THEN I'm prepped for surgery. By 1:30 my gallbladder is gone.
The rest of the day is full of pain management (me) and marvelling at the effects of morphine on the brain (Calvin) as I babble complete nonsense. Night nurses were paged when I needed help getting to the bathroom (hello, helpless humiliation!), and they kept waking me up to take blood, check my blood pressure, and take my temperature.
That whole night was pretty surreal.
Calvin arrived at 10:00 the next morning, and by 11:30 I was checked out and headed home with some Vicodin.
So! Since then I've been splitting my time between the couch and the bed, having fantastically bizarre drug-induced dreams, and being waited on very lovingly by Calvin.
No camping for us. It's amazing what can happen in the course of 36 hours. At least we weren't in the middle of the woods when my gallbladder went south on me.
(I don't think the detox is what triggered this - it's something that has been building for quite some time, and since the doctor explained it, I've been having symptoms for quite a while.)