Maybe I will post some more December pics when I stop feeling like I am drowning.

I have been posting previews on my photo blog, trying to put the energy I have into processing since I can do that from bed.

I am on drugs and they do make a significant difference. But it’s more of a taking the edge off than taking the pain away. Perhaps like the difference between being hit by a delivery van and being hit by an 18 wheeler, you are still hit by a truck either way. One of the things that is most difficult is that even though I have hurt everyday for years, I never get used to the pain.

Talking about it is strange. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself, and most of the time, I don’t. I do get frustrated sometimes, but not everyday or every week. I have a pretty rich life. There are days that I want to stay in the fetal position and try not to cause myself any more pain than I feel at the moment I wake up, but I am just adventurous and extroverted enough to know that I can’t live like that for long.

+ Lexi turns TWO Saturday. I can’t believe it!

+ I do want to write about Into the Wild, someone remind me.

+ My sleep has definitely improved since I’ve been on medication (about three weeks now.) It’s nice to not wake up feeling exhausted every morning. At first my pain felt much more acute, as if I were in a fog of tiredness, and not being as tired meant I was more in tune to my pain. But, it’s now normalized a little bit. I am still in near constant pain, but it’s not as sharp or severe as it was a few weeks ago.

+ I have 19 application requests on facebook and I just cleared my cache a few weeks ago. STOP THE MADNESS!

I already had an appointment with my family practitioner scheduled for the following day and we talked about the allergist and his conclusions. We discussed that there are many, many things that we have not tested for yet (cortisol levels, better thyroid tests…) and that eliminating everything is probably a good course of action, but that we can more forward with other things with testing. Family doctor is sending me to a rheumatologist. I know he’s being thorough and in the long run the rheumatologist will probably give me the best care, but I have to wait who-knows-how-long for them to schedule me an appointment that I will have to reschedule to a more convenient time… and in the meantime, I have no relief.

Honestly, I’ve never had an allergy test and I would like the peace of mind of knowing that I am not being affected by wheat or dairy or something else I consume every day. It’s unlikely, but it’s possible. I’m just tired of hurting all the time, and being so exhausted. I know other people suffer much more, but it’s still not fun.

On Thursday afternoon, my stomach started to hurt, but I figured I was just hungry, and we had a friend coming to dinner, which distracted me quite a bit. I made veggie pizza and spinach salad (by request!) and we had a good meal, but I noticed my stomach hurting worse, low in my abdomen. Luisa headed home about 8, and I sent Mike to get some OTC drugs. It kept getting more and more painful, but I was sure it was something like kidney stones, not life threatening. A call to my parents and to my friendly internal medicine intern convinced me we had to go to the hospital, if just to rule out anything too terrible. We packed up the kids and headed out about 9:45.

When we got to the hospital, I was in a lot of pain, and made it through triage and into an ER room in less than 15 minutes, which seemed pretty good. As soon as I got in a room and in a gown, I started vomiting, so I got bumped to the bottom of the food chain. After a long wait, the doctor came in and said, “Well, looks like you’ve got a bad stomach virus, seems like you are in a lot of pain, so we’ll do a CT to make sure it’s nothing else.” At this point, it was about 11:30 so Mike decided to take the girls, who were being very good but it was very very late, on a drive to get them to sleep and wait in the parking lot for me. They gave me an anti-nausea medicine and an IV to help with the vomiting and I passed out pretty quickly. They woke me to go get a CT, and I was incredibly loopy, but it was my first CT and it was still interesting. The tube was really shallow and they took thousands of images in a matter of 5 minutes. And then it was back to drug-induced sleep for me.

The surgical resident woke me up for my consult and I said, “There’s nothing wrong with me, right?” And he replied, “Actually, it looks like you’re in the early stages of appendicitis and you also have a cyst on your right ovary. Either, or both of them, could be causing your pain, so they’ve both got to go, but you aren’t in danger of rupturing tonight, so we’re going to wait for the morning.” So, I called Mike and sent him and the kids home to go to bed. It must have been about 1 a.m. At about 2, they moved me up to the surgical wing and admitted me and turned over my care to Donna, the sweet night nurse. My heart rate had been high and jumpy all evening, which is strange for me, so they gave me an EKG and kept me hooked up to monitors all night, but Donna helped me to be comfortable.

The day starts early in the surgical wing, and I was up at 6 am with the early rounds even though my surgery was in the second round of the day. They sent me to get a chest x-ray, because apparently, everyone needs one. My wonderful friend Jen offered to watch the kids for the day, so Mike dropped them off while I had a meeting with my whole surgical team, who told me that in spite of the surgical resident’s wavering, I did, in fact have appendicitis. At least, they were 90% sure. And I needed my appendix out anyway, since I am a reproductive age female who might have future problems with cysts that would continue to be confused with appendicitis if I didn’t.

Mike came and sat with me while I waited, reading Harry Potter. They prepped me for surgery in the room, and wheeled me out to the surgical floor. We dropped Mike off at the surgical waiting room, where the nurse made him kiss me, which only played up our fears of the risks of surgery, even though they are small. I remember talking to the anesthesiologists and the two burly nurse anesthetists wheeling me into the room and starting to wrap my arms down. I remember nothing else. They tell me that I did, in fact, have appendicitis. They did a laparoscoptic appendectomy and put all sorts of tubes into me and removed them before I woke up. They also took out the cyst and sent it to be biopsied, but no one seems very worried about it.

My surgery wasn’t until 2, so I had to spend the night. Mike stayed until I woke up, and then went to get the girls from the P’s house (Thank you, friends!) One of the surgeons stopped by to make sure I understood all of the restrictions on my next few weeks (no picking up kids, no driving, rest lots, etc.) and I hung out the the hospital, reading Walker Percy and realizing that the day nurses are not as great at Donna, who returned again to be my night nurse. She rocks.

As far as pain goes, the incisions are small, but they hurt. My shoulder hurts from the CO2 they used to blow up my abdomen. The morphine was really nice. Lortab and Percocet, not so much. It’s sad to not be able to pick up the girls, I’m too tired to think about driving. Jennifer saved the day yet again, bringing food, and we have dinner until we leave town on Wednesday.

Sorry this is so rambling, but I am on pain meds, and I want a record of all of this, it was pretty surreal and strange.