Ugh. For the last full year it’s just been an uphill battle with health issues.
I thought I had a UTI, and after suffering for a good long while trying to get rid of it the regular old fashioned ways it turned out to be diabetes. So my whole everything got turned upside down and I made a lot of changes and got my A1C down to 5.5 and my blood sugars into the normal range on a daily basis. Dropped 60 pounds while I was at it, so yay, me.
I should have been feeling pretty good, right? Yeah, not so much. In December 2020 I got the ‘rona and was down with congestion and fatigue for a few weeks. It was not nearly the boogie man everyone made it out to be and I recovered after a short down time.
I should have been feeling pretty good, right? Yeah, not so much. I was getting some stomach pains. I’m on Metformin and all kinds of other diabetes meds and some of them can be pretty harsh. I cut back on some of the meds with my doctor’s approval since my numbers were down. But I was still so darn tired all the time. I’d come home after work and catch naps occasionally and on the weekends I was doing more sleeping than anything else. And the stomach pains were coming and going.
A couple of weeks ago I got some really bad pains on Friday night and they lasted right through the weekend. I tried all sorts of home remedies for what I figured might be a simple thing but by Monday morning I was pretty convinced it was maybe my appendix or something and I was gonna be seeing the inside of a hospital. I went to the office with the intent to do payroll before seeking medical attention. Because that’s smart, right? Maybe my appendix will explode but at least everyone will get their paychecks on Friday. Yeah. I got about half way through it and had to call my husband to come get me and take me to the hospital.
I love him very much but he took the long route.
He brought me in and when they took me into a trauma room and didn’t leave me sitting in the waiting area I told him to just head for home, take care of the dogs, go back to work, whatever and I’d call him. There was no sense in him sitting in that waiting room all day.
I’ve heard so many terrible stories about hospitals. This was really my first trip to one. Aside from that whole being born thing. I was expecting to lay there in an exam room for a long time unseen. I was not. Nurses and doctors started coming in as soon as I was in the trauma room. They got my blood tests started and IV fluids and then some IV pain killers – for which I was profoundly grateful. They got me to CT for a scan and the tech, Johnny told me they were injecting something into my IV that was gonna make me feel like I’d peed my pants but not to worry because I probably wouldn’t actually do that. He was cheerful and quick like most of the folks I met there that afternoon. Apparently they saw something strange on that first scan because they sent me for a transvaginal ultrasound – thinking it was a problem with an ovary. I told them if the ovary was an issue to just take it out, I’m not using it. That ship sailed ten years ago.
They decided to admit me and run some more tests. I’m not sure how Monday turned into Tuesday but it’s pretty much a blur of IV morphine and antibiotics. I got settled into a comfy private room and was astounded by the level of care I was receiving. Nurses and doctors were in and out of the room constantly, each more cheerful and lovely than the last. They laughed with me, they prayed with me and listened to me read scripture. They came as soon as an IV or monitor started beeping, they appeared within a minute of me pressing the call button for help to the bathroom or more ice chips. I wasn’t supposed to have any food or water right through Tuesday night.
Oh, Tuesday afternoon was fun. Not. They were sending me for another CT scan, but this one was gonna be a little more interesting. The tech, Johnny called me to explain what they were going to do. They were going to “introduce some contrast dye” somewhere that I would classify as EXIT ONLY and I thought to bring my phone and do a Facebook Live broadcast of this most recent indignation. Seriously, I was violated in every way possible. Even the Covid swabs shoved up my nose until my eyeballs felt like they were gonna pop out. The CT scan was necessary and atrocious although they did everything they could to make it less awful. I got wheeled back up to my room and got right into a hot shower before they hooked me back up to monitors and new IVs. I was finally feeling like I could eat something – and it had been a good four days without food. But…. no, no food. They were scheduling a colonoscopy for first thing in the morning. At least I’d be unconscious for that.
My nurses kept me company all night. They sat with me and talked with me while I drank that awful “prep” stuff, and they brought me a bedside commode for the anticipated onslaught. I lucked out, there really wasn’t much in me after four days of not eating. Still, I’m pretty sure I passed birthday cake from when I was seven before morning arrived. They came and got me at 7:00 and I went down for the test. Again, I could not have asked for nicer nurses, aides or doctors. I got the first real rest in days when they put me out for the procedure. When I woke up my husband was there for a quick visit, and they gave me news I really didn’t want to hear, but there it was. A mass in my colon. The tip of the appendix is actually in the mass, like the Blob is in there, taking over the world. The tech started to cry when I simply said, “It’s fine, God’s got this.” I knew on some level that there was going to be some bad news involved. I prayed when I first got there for Him to take the pain, take away whatever the issue was, but I know better. He rarely does that kind of thing although her certain can if He wants to. There’s always a reason for this kind of stuff, and frankly He isn’t required to explain it to the likes of me. If God wants me to go through this, then I’m not gonna get mad, I’m not gonna pitch a fit or question His will. Will there be healing? Sure, there will be. Will it be in this lifetime? That’s something I don’t know. I asked Him what He wanted me to do with this and He’s showing me.
We had an anointing here at the house last night and that was amazing. God has folks set up like pieces on a chess board for me – neighbors who’ve been through this, friends who are willing to drive me to appointments or bring me things and help me with my work (which I’m doing from home on a limited basis now). There is so much love surrounding me right now I don’t even know how to respond to all of it. My husband is an absolute rock for me. He’s trying to see to any need I have without hovering, which he knows will just annoy me. He’s beyond anything I ever hoped for and certainly beyond anything I deserve. But that’s how God loves us. He puts people in our lives to demonstrate His own love for us.
Next week we start some more tests to determine the course of treatment. And I don’t need to be afraid of tomorrow because God is already there.