Aanndd...I'm back! I have a good excuse for not posting in a while. Last Tuesday, June 22nd, I had the honor of driving myself to the ER for the first time. I spent four hours Monday night losing my dinner and feeling this awful pain in my upper abdomen. The ER doctor claimed it was my gall bladder from poking and prodding to see where the pain was coming from. I would describe it as a severe pain that feels like your gall bladder (and maybe pancreas) is twisting up while being doused in acid. Sharp pain + almost a severe cramping feeling + burning = Heather in the ER. Well turns out it was pancreatitis and by 5:30am, someone finally gave me morphine and nausea medication to put me out of my misery.
There have been few occasions in my life where I've had to have blood drawn. I've never donated blood (I know, I seem like an awful person) but it's not because I'm afraid of needles. Shots are no biggie. You can give me shots all day long. Drawing blood? No way. Genetics blessed me with very small veins that don't bleed easily. I literally stop bleeding right after the needle is pulled out and sometimes while the needle is still in! The ER nurse originally dug around in my arm because she could get IV fluids through but couldn't get blood out. That hurt. I mean, I was moaning and tossing in pain but I still noticed what she was doing. She told me she needed to stick me again and drew blood from my hand. I didn't even notice that one (given the other pain). I wish she had just done that and not dug around because I ended up with a huge black bruise. The hand bruised a little.
That Thursday, I went to my primary physician in Houston and was stuck two more times to draw blood (my doctor's nurse is the BEST at drawing blood but let's face it, it's hard to get me to bleed). Fast forward to this past Tuesday and I went to see a gastrointestinal specialist to see what caused the pancreatitis. He decided to order an array of tests so he could confidently tell me that he had no idea what caused my pancreatitis. He sent me down the hall to have blood drawn to check my triglyceride levels. Please note the picture at the top of the page. This woman was Satan's mistress. She was worse than the ER nurse. She got 3/4 of the vile of blood and then started stabbing around to try to get me to bleed more. SO. MUCH. PAIN. My mom was in the doorway cringing. Finally, she stabbed so hard that I actually flinched away and ripped the needle out of my arm and managed to get blood all over my arm, the chair, and her glove (but not the vile). She then stabbed around in the second hole and couldn't get anything so she told me I needed to be referred to their main location to try again. I decided to go home instead.
Wednesday, I went across Houston to another office for a CAT scan. No one mentioned the IV. Thankfully, this guy knew what he was doing and managed to find an unbruised spot on one of my two arms and insert the needle with ease.
So, the summary of my two weeks is this: I was in the worst pain and had to go to the ER at 4:30am for 3 hours. I lived off of water and sprite for 3 days. I then had to deal with slowly easing the awful tightness of my empty stomach with bland food. I was stuck 7 times, with 7 needles, within 7 days. I've been walking around looking like a heroin addict with bruises all over my arms.
Love, Heather
xo
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