Anywho, last week things started getting really "uncomfortable" shall we say. By Thursday I was saying to myself, "I should probably be calling the doctor just to talk about my symptoms."
Well of course I put that off and Saturday was a BAD day (which was unfortunate because we were at an informational adoption seminar gathering more info.) As bad as it was, I was still passing stool so I knew we didn't need to go the ER just yet. I was floating down the river de-Nile.
I left a message for my new GI on Monday and pushed on through the pain, with the ever nagging feeling that I most likely had a partial blockage. Monday night we were so close to going to the ER, but I was still not ready to face the music.
My doc called back at 5 p.m. Tuesday and she said it, "It sounds like you have a partial blockage. You need to come to the ER."
Ugh, I liked floating down the river, but I knew it was time to face reality -- my life's reality. And going to the ER every now and then with these types of things is just the way of life.
So off we went, to the new ER where Dr. GI works. She called ahead for us and it was a very pleasant ER experience. I got my big pain meds, some IV anti-nausea and a bag a fluids. Had and Xray and CT scan. There was some inflammation in the small intestine and although they didn't see a partial blockage they said it probably had passed by the time the CT was done.
Around 5 a.m. I was released to go home and rest, lay low and be kind to my bowels. I spent all of yesterday sleeping, literally, which even when I'm really sick doesn't happen. So I guess I needed it.
Today has been much of the same. I'm still feeling pretty crummy, I just need to keep an eye on it, call if it gets worse.
I won't lie, I was pissed about once again being faced with this part of my reality. I didn't want to go and I was in pain and I wanted to stamp my feet and throw a major tantrum. I wanted to run away from reality.
But that's not a choice now is it. The fact is, that this is how things are and will be. I won't know when something like this might happen and all I can do is roll with the punches, know where to go and move forward from there.
This wasn't a new reality, just one that I can sometimes push away. Does it make me want to stop fighting, sometimes, but not really. Do I want pity, no. I just wanted to explain that this is the life of an auto immuny. Totally radical and spontaneous;)
Sometimes I'll keep right on floating down that good ole' river De Nile, but I always jump out when I have to.