Those few of you who may have been wondering just where I've been and why, prepare to be enlightened. The rest of you can try thinking without moving your lips.
On Friday, March 18, 2022 at or around 7:30 PM, I started having severe pain in my lower abdomen. The pain escalated as the minutes rolled by, so I asked my neighbor Nancy to drop whatever she was doing and take me to the ER. She agreed, providing I didn't do anything freaky in her car - bleed, barf, die... the usual.
By the time we made the ER, the pain was a solid 8 (scale of 1-10). I got to the check in desk, and my stomach issued my dinner a return to sender. I got triaged and told they couldn't give me any medication until a room opened up, and they didn't know when that would happen.
So I sat in my wheelchair in the ER waiting room, in the most intense agony I've ever felt, for five hours. Nancy kept me company.
Once the wait was over they got me in a room and shot me full of pain medication, which took the pain down to level 5. After a few tests, the diagnosis was Acute biliary pancreatitis without infection or necrosis. Go look it up; it's what I did. The cure was to remove my gallbladder, so surgery was scheduled. Not right away though, as my pancreas was acting up and everything was put on hold until the wretched thing settled down.
So it's off to a hospital room to wait.
I was ensconced in Mount Carmel East Hospital, Columbus, Ohio, and had my surgery on March 24; discharged on March 25.
Let me tell you something: Mount Carmel East Hospital, in Columbus, Ohio, is Hell with the lid off. No food, no water; only ice to eat. I wasn't allowed a shower, and not allowed to clean my teeth. I had a choice between a bed made of iron rods and a four inch thick foam mattress, or a chair that was marginally better. The noise level precluded sleep. Various machines kept going off with a loud screech, and the summon help button was only somewhat softer. The staff ignored the machines. Eventually I learned that if I yelled for help loud and long enough, someone would show up and let me know that I was an annoyance they'd rather not deal with.
I learned to sleep for two hour intervals, but then the nightmares started. By day five, these dreams had transcended from the usual bad dreams we all get into the real screamers that you can't remember.
I finally got my surgery, woke up, and was treated to the news that they were keeping me one day for observation. Whatever.
In the middle of all this I had a heart problem involving arrhythmia, so now I've got some nice new pills to take.
But I'm alive, and that's all I've got the energy to say right now.
10 comments:
Welcome back.
So sorry to hear all this. Praying for your return to health!
Holy shit man! Have you got help close by while you recover, Jack? I was getting worried there for a bit…
Ed: Thanks! It's a real relief to be back.
CW: Prayers are always welcome, and I thank you for your prayers.
Glen: My brother, old Shotgun Bob, drove up from Tennessee, cleaned up my kitchen (think Hercules and the Augean Stables), cleaned my refrigerator, then stocked the fridge with frozen dinners and other things. My cousin 88 came and helped, as did my other brother Big Mike. My neighbor, Hot Nancy, takes me to the grocery store and handles the freight for me. So yeah, I have help.
Thanks for thinking of me. I have no energy, and so can't write much.
Today I went to Kroger's and overdid it. I'm in a good deal of discomfort, which will probably fade away by tomorrow. Still, pushing a shopping cart and transferring groceries to the check out counter was hard on me.
Sonuvabitch. I spent a week in the hospital with pancreatitis, eventually the inflammation went down far enough to do a couple of ERCP procedures and clear out the bile ducts.
Oh yeah, either pancreatitis or a gallbladder attack is INCREDIBLE pain. Take it easy, and in the future you're probably going to watch the fats in your diet.
Thanks Neon. Yeah, it's heart healthy and on the wagon for me. Nice to hear from someone who's been there.
Alive is good!
My wife's stay in the hospital and rehab was similar. Staffing was shorthanded and she was ready to make an escape had she not been released.
Gerry: Sorry your wife went through that ordeal. I'm slowly getting over my hospital induced PTSD, but it isn't easy.
I used to be the night supervisor at the heavy highway division for a large construction company just a stones throw from that fine hospital you spoke of . It is where we took any workers that got injured on the night shift . We lovingly called it the Hamburger Hospital . If ya think it may be time to retire out to the sticks I'm thinking about turning a large ranch rental I have here on the homestead into a sort of patriot/gunners old folks place . Wood heat with a Shenandoah R75 , perhaps the finest wood stove ever made to keep the old gunnys warm in the winter . 40 miles straight north of C-town in the hills .
bobupandkissmyass@protonmail.com
No shit ! That's my email , heh .
Robert: Hamburger Hospital is right. I'll never go back there again.
My only question is: Who chops the wood? If I ever lift an axe again it'll be against some freedom hating moonbat.
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