The title is inspired by the TV show 24 hours in A&E that is on TLC sometimes, which I found funny. The story wasn’t so funny though. Last week I had another gall bladder episode. This time it didn’t fade away after one hour. It got worse. So that’s pretty much the beginning of how I ended up spending twenty hours in A&E.
The pain started around 10 pm. I was already in bed after a busy day and I was having a conversation with Huib when the pain hit me. I tried to just relax for a while and I was hoping that it would fade away. It didn’t, in fact, after an hour it got much worse. I got some painkillers, but even that didn’t help so around 12.30 am I called a doctor to ask if there was anything they could do, even though it was clear that the pain was coming from my gall bladder. She asked me to come over. They examined me real quick to see if it was in fact the gall bladder (I mean, with my luck it could have been something else entirely) and when the doctor was sure, she gave me a morphine injection. Then I was asked to wait for half an hour to see if the pain would get better.
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On Monday I have had another gall bladder attack. This time I was at my parent’s flat drinking a cappuccino. Apparently drinking coffee should be considered to be a dangerous thing. I walked home and went to bed. Just like the other times, it went away again after 2 hours. I was not happy about this thought and the next day I called my doctor to schedule an ultrasound. I wanted to know if I have gallstones or not.
On Thursday morning I was at the hospital where I would get my ultrasound. It was done by a nice lady, but she couldn’t (or wasn’t allowed to?) tell me anything. So for the results I really had to wait until they would be available. That meant I had to wait yet another day. I am glad that the results were sent to the doctor right away and that they were available this morning. What we thought was true. There are little gallstones there and the fact that I’ve had a couple of painful episodes means they have to be removed.
So I have made another appointment with a surgeon at the hospital in Beverwijk and I will most likely have another surgery there. I am not looking forward to having another surgery, but this pain isn’t really funny either. I will have to deal with that somehow. On December 3 I will have the first appointment, and then I am secretly hoping for a bit of a waiting list as we have plans to go to London in January and I would like to be fit then, not tired from the anesthesia and recovering from surgery. We shall see what will happen next… I will keep you posted!
Yesterday I didn’t feel so well. For some reason my mind keeps going back to the day of my surgery sometimes. That was quite a day. I know that sometimes I can’t shut up about how I have spent almost a week in the hospital, but I am not sure if I am completely over that already. There were some tears in my eyes last night when I talked about the memories of my weightloss surgery.
The scariest part of all this was the anesthesia. I had no idea what to expect of that. I mean, yes, you fall ‘asleep’ rather quickly. That’s what they had told me and it was true. Nobody had warned me about the part where you wake up. It was nothing like waking up after a normal kind of sleep. I didn’t feel well. It was like a the nightmares I have sometimes where I can’t see much and can’t really move but I would like to scream. Only this time it was for real. I remember waking up several times. I saw a clock that kept speeding forward. There was a guy telling me to wake up and asking me if I was in any pain. He also told me I already got too many painkillers already when I asked for more. He said that I shouldn’t be in this much pain, which scared me as I know that I can handle pain very well normally. I remember feeling the blood pressure monitor on my arm a couple of times, thought I don’t remember if it was there all the time or if they would put it on again when it was time. I know that this lasted for a couple of hours before they finally got me back to the ward on the fifth floor.
I wasn’t awake when they brought me back to the ward. I don’t remember the ride on the elevator. I do however remember that my parents were there, waiting for me. That my mother was crying. Then in what felt like 5 minutes later (which is probably more like 2 hours later) my family and Huib came to see me during the visiting hour. I mostly just remember hearing their voices. That was comforting. I knew someone was there. Still I could not wake up properly. I must have said a few words, or smiled at them, but I am not sure. I do know from pictures they’ve taken that I wasn’t doing so well that night.
It took me many hours to wake up. When it was 11 pm I had to pee so bad. That was when I had the feeling that I was actually waking up. Guess what? At that point it was time for me to fall asleep. I couldn’t sleep that night as I was in so much pain. Yeah, that didn’t really help. I didn’t sleep the first three nights at the hospital even though I was tired. Apparently my body was under the impression that I had gotten enough sleep during the first day.
I really do hope that this will get better one day. That I can look back at this experience without being scared. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am really happy that I have done this for myself. Just the thought of ever having to go back to a hospital for another surgery scares me so much. Especially now with these gall bladder attacks or when someone asks me if I am thinking about getting the excess skin removed. It frightens me. I don’t want to think of this and yet I can’t seem to avoid it.
To the people who know me in real life, I would like to ask you to bear with me here. I know that it seems to be all I can talk about some days, but I can’t help it. I need to get this out of my system.