So, anyway...

I almost don't know where to start. This is the first day I've felt like I could sit up and type for any amount of time, though honestly, I feel so queasy and weird I don't know if I should be, but it's probably better to be vertical than horizontal right now.

Anyhow, I felt like I was right in the middle of something else (well, I was, I guess, with the new Buffy vid but no one else seemed to notice except me!) and then blam! Next thing I know I'm in a hospital and doing all the things I have been most afeared of for a long while. Like a lot of people, I'm glad that it happened earlier in some ways so I didn't have these past few days to anguish about it any more than I needed to, but I wish that it hadn't come at such expense.

Friday night I had this weird feeling like I was maybe gonna get an attack, but then it didn't happen, and then it did suddenly, even before what I'd eaten would have been digested. Folks left here early, but I had to call feochadn back down, which I hated doing, around 1 a.m. because I'd been nonstop vomiting for hours. It wasn't just a little vomiting, either, it was that heaving, epic kind and it felt like I'd done 250 situps by the time I called her. She took me to the same ER I went to last time, but the admissions process seemed to take forever, and the staff I got weren't nearly as wonderful as before. Every time someone would lecture me about lying on the floor with all the germs, I would be, screw the germs, this is the only flat place I can be. Jo was her usual self of aplomb, even when they put me in the wheelchair (man, bumps when you feel that bad? Not fun in a wheelchair) and I just reached out for the puke pan we'd brought, she handed it to me wordlessly, and rinsed it out in the basin as soon as we got in the room. They took forever to get an IV line started and pain meds in because they couldn't raise a vein. I was actually starting to pass out more than a couple times; sweaty and clammy and just in really bad shape.

After a while I sent Jo home, because it seemed like this time they were going to admit me, whether or not they did surgery. I figured they would have to do the open surgery because it was so bad, but they said they could still do the laparoscopy if everything looked okay. The pain never really did go away completely, which made it hard to do some tests like peeing in a cup or getting the ultrasound. The doctor barely spoke 20 words to me; I think the most she ever said was instructions when she ran the ultrasound. Eventually they came in and said I was being transferred to another hospital campus for surgery, but they were talking about it as though I'd been informed, which I hadn't, so that freaked me out temporarily.

Is there some kind of guild requirement for EMTs to be hotties? I mean, the guys who helped my mom, who took my sister, all the people I saw in the ER last time... all hotties, as were the guys who came to move me. No one would give me any water and the one EMT was very apologetic; I tried to promise them that I would not drink it, I just couldn't even open my mouth to answer questions and there's nothing like having your mouth so dry that it's swollen and all stick with vomit, you know? But I'm sure my promises came out like "oiwr drit bnwil mt."

They took me right up to a room at the hospital, which was nice, except that no one had any orders for me and knew what to do with me and they couldn't give me meds until they did. My nurse was a really great lady who went the extra mile for me, though, and she finally got a resident to order me some dilaudid and gave me a cup with water and a sponge thingie. Then the doctors arrived and they told me what they thought was happening, and what they were going to do, and by that time mlyn was there, and they took me down to pre-op. I have to say, everyone was friendly and solicitous except, weirdly, the surgical nurse and the anesthesiologist. They weren't friendly at all, but the anesthesiologist gave me a shot to see how I'd react, and I remember nothing after that. M'lyn says I was awake, but you sure couldn't prove it by me! The whole time they kept me in the bed, which was cool -- being wheeled all over the hospital in a big bed was sort of amusing. I woke up at one point and realized I was in a room, but then went back to sleep, when I woke again, I saw my dad moving over to go sit down, and I said "hi there," and he was very happy I was awake. I'd called him first thing in the morning, but I had no ability to speak, and he almost hung up on me because he couldn't hear at all. Nothing like having a deaf father in an emergency. Finally I managed to squeak out "Jo will call you" and then I had had to call poor Jo again at 7:30 in the morning, after she'd left the ER at 4. I haven't yet figured out how you make this up to people yet.

That was only the beginning of the adventure, though! At some point, when I feel better, I will report about my Roommate From Hell. There are witnesses to how horrid this woman is, but none of them got the full treatment I did. It's the kind of story that makes you think, wow, I thought I had problems, but I think I won't complain any more! Christ on a sidecar, she was a nightmare. I think that in contrast, everyone saw me as the dream patient, and when I left, they were all waving at me as I passed by, going "Bye! Bye, Gwyn! Take care of yourself, we'll miss you!" It was *weird*. While I was in there I kept thinking of my sister, how she tried so hard to remember everyone's names, get to know the staff, be clear about what she needed while still respecting their jobs, and even though I was there for only a little over 24 hours, I wanted to make sure that I was like her.

I had visits from sherrold and B, her partner, which was great because I know Sandy had been through a lot of suffering before that with her chemo treatment, and then Jo and movies_michelle stopped by. I felt so much better just having it out that when the doctor came in in the morning to see me standing by the bed, ordering Cream of Wheat for breakfast, he couldn't get over it. He said they'd never had a patient presenting that badly recover so quickly. I think that's why I'm kind of worried now, how queasy and icky I feel after I eat even a few crackers or something. He said he'd give me "a tour of your belly" and he explained everything they'd done and which suture was for which thing. My main incision has been very leaky but they aren't too worried about it. I go in for a followup next week with the original surgeon, who is partners with the guy who was on call this weekend, so fortunately all the info will be there already. Honestly, if the incisions didn't hurt and my stomach area didn't ache so much (from both the surgery and the horrible beating it took with endless vomiting), I almost wouldn't know what happened (okay, and the fact that the back of my left hand is killing me from that IV line -- my hands are so bony, and I was terrified of that IV going in).

I keep trying to lower the percocet reliance, but it hasn't been as effective, and I wish this queasiness would go away. But as a friend points out, you just had your digestive system reworked. When I got home, Christy stayed overnight to take care of me and M'lyn hung around till late, so I was well looked-after, and now I'm just pottering around when I can, sleeping way too much (my god, I just cannot stop wanting to sleep), and watching lots of TV. Dad brought me brownies he'd made, even though they're the farthest thing from what I want to eat right now.

And that's the story, basically, I'll spare you the really gory details and my repetitions of pain -- did I mention the horrendous pain? I've always been blessed with a pretty high tolerance to pain, but boy, did it fail me Friday night. I could go the rest of my life without that ever happening. Oh, the end result was that as they'd suspected, a large stone had become lodged in the bile duct and was completely blocking it, and the gallbladder was incredibly inflamed. They said it wasn't toxic and not the worst they'd seen, but it was definitely up there in the "really quite bad" category. I am just very glad the nasty little bugger is gone.