Tuesday, October 19th, 2010 05:37 pm
afternoon in the er, the short and slightly coherent edition
So due to escalating, unending gall-bladder related back pain, I had to go to the ER this morning. No, I still have Horace; what I also have is relief from back pain that's been continuously building since Sunday. This is because I was introduced to morphine.
If this is a little choppy, I totes have reason; this shit is pretty damn good.
Because the constant pain thing is a warning sign of things like perforation and necrotized (is that the right word?) tissue, I went in with my mother (she is capable of tackling me into immobility; slim but wiry, let me point out) and I was put in IV, blood tested, and left to stare at the walls much calmer than I would have expected, because I always forget my bulletproof calming comes down to ritual, and hospitals are professional at the entire ritual stripping of clothing, leaving the world behind you, and hooking you to a blood pressure cuff, pulse finger thing, and an IV bag to leave you contemplating God or try to competitively lower your own blood pressure (personal best: 101/51, pulse 75).
Blood and urine tests (god, urine tests with the complexity of SATs, and I'm sorry, who the fuck has the hand-eye coordination to do all that?) confirmed that everything was just fine in my body (given the entire gall bladder being evil issue) but my resistance to hydrocodone (vicodin) was a problem since the back pain was getting worse every time I ate, even if it wasn't bursting into exciting adventures in intense pain every time. So the plan was to see if they could get the pain thing down and still wait to do a prepared and comfortable surgery and not do it out of the ER. So by one pm, the first try was a low dose of morphine, which was utterly useless; the second was benthyl, a pill to help with spasms amongst the innards (work with me; they named specific innards but I'm pretty stoned right now); the third was a combination of one level up of morphine with benthyl, which a.) brought about druggedness and b.) took away all the pain. So I was let go, with the understanding I had to be at my appointment on Thursday and that surgery was in my near future (aka possibly Thursday itself, but most likely early next week).
(Spent goodly time in ER emailing Madelyn sad pictures of me holding a stuffed bear wearing a hospital gown on a hospital bed while wrapped in sheets and pictures of my IV, while she sent comforting missives that this is better than the prairie, where they would give me a stick and quinine. I have no idea what the stick was for. Best not to find out.)
I'm weirded out by the first dose of morphine not working, actually; the second worked but not with the strong loopy effect, just a mild one, but dear God the sheer ability to swallow without wincing totally loops me out anyway. I took with me two bears (one a gift from![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
svmadelyn that has a pouch for a heating pad) and I honestly felt more shame about the fact I didn't shave my legs.
Note: Shave legs before surgery. And find pound puppy. Am now taking nap because pain free also means I will sleep well and in a normal body position.
I cannot say I am at all looking forward to surgery, but I have to admit that this helped make what's coming seem more familiar. And if this is readable, I am really surprised.
Nap now. *sends hugs* One more week and no one will hear me whine about this again. That's a very good motivator, too.
If this is a little choppy, I totes have reason; this shit is pretty damn good.
Because the constant pain thing is a warning sign of things like perforation and necrotized (is that the right word?) tissue, I went in with my mother (she is capable of tackling me into immobility; slim but wiry, let me point out) and I was put in IV, blood tested, and left to stare at the walls much calmer than I would have expected, because I always forget my bulletproof calming comes down to ritual, and hospitals are professional at the entire ritual stripping of clothing, leaving the world behind you, and hooking you to a blood pressure cuff, pulse finger thing, and an IV bag to leave you contemplating God or try to competitively lower your own blood pressure (personal best: 101/51, pulse 75).
Blood and urine tests (god, urine tests with the complexity of SATs, and I'm sorry, who the fuck has the hand-eye coordination to do all that?) confirmed that everything was just fine in my body (given the entire gall bladder being evil issue) but my resistance to hydrocodone (vicodin) was a problem since the back pain was getting worse every time I ate, even if it wasn't bursting into exciting adventures in intense pain every time. So the plan was to see if they could get the pain thing down and still wait to do a prepared and comfortable surgery and not do it out of the ER. So by one pm, the first try was a low dose of morphine, which was utterly useless; the second was benthyl, a pill to help with spasms amongst the innards (work with me; they named specific innards but I'm pretty stoned right now); the third was a combination of one level up of morphine with benthyl, which a.) brought about druggedness and b.) took away all the pain. So I was let go, with the understanding I had to be at my appointment on Thursday and that surgery was in my near future (aka possibly Thursday itself, but most likely early next week).
(Spent goodly time in ER emailing Madelyn sad pictures of me holding a stuffed bear wearing a hospital gown on a hospital bed while wrapped in sheets and pictures of my IV, while she sent comforting missives that this is better than the prairie, where they would give me a stick and quinine. I have no idea what the stick was for. Best not to find out.)
I'm weirded out by the first dose of morphine not working, actually; the second worked but not with the strong loopy effect, just a mild one, but dear God the sheer ability to swallow without wincing totally loops me out anyway. I took with me two bears (one a gift from
svmadelyn that has a pouch for a heating pad) and I honestly felt more shame about the fact I didn't shave my legs.Note: Shave legs before surgery. And find pound puppy. Am now taking nap because pain free also means I will sleep well and in a normal body position.
I cannot say I am at all looking forward to surgery, but I have to admit that this helped make what's coming seem more familiar. And if this is readable, I am really surprised.
Nap now. *sends hugs* One more week and no one will hear me whine about this again. That's a very good motivator, too.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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From:I hear you loud and clear on the shaved legs front. I'm a yeti in a little girly looking body. Whenever I skip shaving I'm like, yeah, this is the day I'll have a car accident and a hot, hot ER doctor.
I really hope they can go ahead and kill Horace on Thursday, seriously. Horace's time has come. *hug hug hugs*
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From:For some reason, this amused me a great deal.
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From:Good luck
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From:*hugs*
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From:And to be honest, I'm wondering about the stick too...
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From:There's just really no coming back from discovering that your knees are overweight. Like, I expected arms, stomach and back "issues", but fucking *knees*, man. That is *not * fair at all.
::hugs::
Feel better!!! Hopefully very, very soon!!!
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From:*cuddles you*
I hope Horace is parted from you sooner rather than later and all will be well.
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From:Jeeeze already. insert worried frown here
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From:ps: DEAR GOD WOMAN GET THE DAMN THING OUT ALREADY. I MEAN IT. I WILL GLARE STERNLY AT YOU IF YOU DON'T.
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From:*massive hugs*
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From:Also, the stick was for biting on when the screaming didn't lessen the pain anymore *ahem*
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From:/fount of random knowledge
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From:Also, you are amazing. On morphine plus all kinds of other stuff and you still write so amazingly.
<333 hugs, and bears, for you...
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From:I hope you manage to hold out until the planned surgery rather than needing emergency surgery. Though either way, sweet relief is a-coming soon. *hugs*
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From:Hang in there. It sounds like you have a totally fabulous support team. GO YOU!
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From:~hugs
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From:Seriously, sending a hug and good thoughts your way.
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From:Hope you and Horace part ways soon. *hugs*
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From:Thanks for mentioning the leg shaving. I go in for surgery early Friday morning, and I really should do it. In case any of the doctors are single and cute, I don't want to be all hairy.
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From:Okay, from my experience, make sure that your doctor is available all the time. Get their pager number. Because I ended up back in the ER, two days before my surgery and because I could reach my doctor pronto, they just admitted me and kept me tanked up on drugs for two days while I waited for my surgery date. It's really important that your doctor be in on what's happening because I went through endless and ultimately pointless tests because my doc wasn't in on the loop (at the first ER visit).
I can honestly say that I have been where you are right now and the pain is indescribable. You have my total and utmost sympathy.
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morphine works
From:I hope you're able to get the optimal surgery date and setting, but even if you don't, gallbladder surgery is an unusually safe operation. My mother put off surgery for thirty years of rare, brief, but painful attacks, and she did just fine. I wimped out and scheduled surgery after just one attack (damn you, Trader Joe's ultra-creamy asparagus risotto!) and I'm fine too.
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From:HOSPITAL?!
[clings to you]
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From: (Anonymous) Date: 2010-10-20 05:27 am (UTC)~babs
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From:Anyway, they have no fucking idea how painful it is. I can't believe you've lasted as long as you have. I know you're scared, but believe me, the surgery is a walk in the park compared to the pain from these constant attacks.
The only advice that I would offer you is, if they prescribe anti-nausea medication for you post-surgery, take it. I decided not to because I'm an idiot, and I paid the price. You might think you're fine without it, but as that general anesthesia works its way out of your system, it will make you feel monumentally barfy.
In positive news, I stopped taking the vicodin and switched to straight tylenol after just a few days, and I was back to work in less than a week. You'll be so much happier once you get rid of Horace, that bastard.
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