Saturday, July 19, 2008
I Must've Been A Shit In Another Life

So I went to see the gastro guy on Friday. For the most part it was all good news (well, relatively good) but here's what's going on now ...

  • checked me over
  • sent me downstairs to the lab for some blood work
  • the reason for the bloodwork is to make sure something is all good in order for him to do a liver biopsy. Apparently you need all your ducks in a row before this test can be done, but I don't have a clue what the hell he's talking about
  • He wants to do a liver biopsy because apparently I have heightened iron levels which I guess isn't a good thing
  • I asked him if it was because of the drinking and the Crohn's drugs and he said no. So then I was even more confused. I was thinking "what the fuck"?
  • He said it's mostly a genetic thing.
  • He also wants to check to see if I've done any damage to my liver with the Crohn's drugs and the drinking. Like say chirosis (sp?) or something. If I did have chirosis, he says I'd have to have an ultrasound every six months to make sure it doesn't turn into cancer. Isn't that lovely? That totally freaked me out. That was the bad evil part of the appointment.
  • I find it weird how I see people get totally loaded ALL of the time, and look what happens to me. I mean, I know I drink more than the average Joe, but I'm not walking around loaded like a lot of people I see. My girlfriend told me the other day that her brother in law went to his Mom's, she served him some soup, and then had to give him a straw to eat it because he couldn't properly hold onto the spoon.
  • I've had the shakes a few times. More than a few. It screws you up. But I've never had them THAT bad.
  • At any rate, I'm working on this problem and it's going to be okay. Because I said so. And I'm not an idiot (which I feel like right now)
  • Truly, I feel like an idiot.

So that's that. I go back to see him in four weeks (why four weeks I don't know) to see if I'm eligible for the biopsy. I'm hoping everything is okay and I won't have to do that, but whatever I need to do, I will do.

And how's life going for you guys?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Update ... Although A Little Late

I still haven't been back to the doctor - my appointment's on Friday - but I'm feeling much better. I know I haven't written much lately, but I haven't really been feeling it. My funny seems to have left the building.

My Husband doesn't seem to know how to deal with all of this shit.
What he's called me in the past few weeks...

- lying fucking cunt (yes the C word) at least 7 or 8 times and when I finally said 'call me a cunt again and I'm going to punch you in the head' well of course he called me that three more times. How nice.
- I'm a drunk
- I've been a drunk for over two years (yeah right)
- Not only am I a drunk, apparently, I don't work (to pay off his nasty bills)

There's been a whole lot of shit going on around here, and I haven't felt like writing.

And who calls their wife a CUNT anyways?

Bah ... things are fucked up around here.

Hopefully things get put back to rights. I'll let you know .

Sunday, June 29, 2008
Where To Start?

I went in for my gastro checkup last Friday and after waiting around for blood work and various other tests, my doc came back and said he was admitting me. Oh no you're not, I told him. I have stuff to do. Grandpa is on his way here, it's my daughter's birthday in three days ... can't I come back on Monday? He told me that he didn't know what would happen to me between then and Monday.

I knew it too. The walk to his office was hell. I felt like I was 80 years old and about to fall over at any second.

At any rate, I DID leave, but only to come home and pack a bag, explain to poor Grandpa (who luckily was here to take over daughter and Daisy care while Husband was at work) and wait for my daughter to get home from school so I could explain to her what was going on and that I'd be missing her birthday party and I really didn't know what to do about that. She took it with a grain of salt and gave me a hug and told me to come home better. Little shit, but at least she's resilient.

Husband drove me back later that evening and we spent about three hours waiting for a bed, which eventually turned out to be a 'cubicle' which was really weird. Felt like I was in solitary confinement. Four small walls, a really tiny bed and this weird kind of bubble in the door for people to look into. Good thing I'm a good sleeper. I spent a little over 24 hours there before I got a room. A room with a hacking, crying, gagging woman. At that same time I felt bad for her, I wanted to shout 'will ya shut the fuck up?' I'm mean.

And I swear Jennifer, if I'd have had your number or an internet connection, I would've been blatently begging you for some banana bread.

And not only that! This freakin' place has NO TV. NONE. Not even in the family rooms. OMG. Husband brought me my laptop and a crapload of movies so it wasn't too bad, but still! What's up with that???

Anyways, the highlights (I guess):

IV for rehydration
2 blood transfusions
various IV packs containing vitamins and nutrients
bone marrow extract (if anybody ever asks for your permission for that shit, run away screaming because that HURT)
drugs, drugs, drugs
talk of a liver byopsy but that has yet to happen as they're waiting for my 'levels' to flatten out and apparently things are looking good (cross your fingers)

And I guess that's about it. I've been sent home on 22 pills a day (including vitamins). I am no longer allowed to take my Crohn's meds (they screw with the liver) nor am I no longer able to have one single sip of alchol (same deal). (and that hurts)

I feel stronger, which is good. I think that's the blood transfusion. Apparently I wasn't producing enough to make marrow, if that makes any sense. I've spoken to so many doctors, it's all a jumble in my head. But it does make sense to me in the way I was shuffling along like an old woman and basically having to pull myself up the stairs with the railing.

Anyways, the past few months have been hell, and all I want is my life back. I actually puttered around the house yesterday, doing this and that and it felt good. Sat outside for awhile.

On a final note, here's what NOT to do when hooked up to an IV and woken up in the middle of the night with the mad urge to pee from all of the fluids they're pumping into you:

  • Do NOT flail out of bed in a mad rush for the bathroom, get yourself caught up in the wires of your IV, fall flat on your face and smash your forehead off of the floor and proceed to just lie there and piss yourself on the floor. Not cool.
  • Do NOT actually make it out of your bed, halfway across the room, before you realize you're going to take a dump any second, so you speed it up and in the process rip your IV line out without even realizing it, spraying blood all over your ward and freaking out the nurse. Not cool either.

Fun times.

I have another appointment in two weeks

Saturday, June 28, 2008
Yes, I'm Alive

I'm home from a hellish hospital stay and hopefully on the mend.

I'll write more later when I have more time to myself. Promise.

Thank you for all of your well wishes

Sunday, June 08, 2008
So Here's The Scoop

Apparently I have chirrhosis of the liver.
Go Figure.
I started crying in the doctor's office because I just feel so stupid. Chirroses of the the liver??? Are you shitting me?

I told him I worked in a bar for about 15 years and probably drank more than the average person.

I'm supposed to stop drinking, stop smoking and eat more healthy.

Goodbye my beloved tequila, I shall miss you.

Yesterday, he called and said my pottasium level was very low and stuck me on 6 pills a day. I don't know what that's about but I looked it up on the internet and it wasn't all that good. It does explain a lot though. A ton of my symptons were there so I'm hopeful that this stuff will work.

At any rate, things are being taken care of, so I'm hopeful. Cross your fingers. This stuff is depressing me.

My birthmom came down here and drove me to the Hospital. I was pretty impressed with that. The fact that she's worried about me is kind of cool. And it was kind of funny that the doc seemed to speak more to her than to me. I'm 38 years old and he felt the need to speak to her - more or less, tell your daughter all of this stuff.

Too funny.

Anyways ... I'm sorry that I'm not around too much. There's been issues.

But I still think about you all