I was finally getting myself out of the house a little bit, taking short walks outside in our 'park'. It is a really beautiful area, the walk goes by a stream. If I were to venture further, there's longer bike trails and stuff less than a mile from home. So, I started taking small walks. My breathing was still shallow. Still hurt to yawn, hiccup, burp, or take a deep breath.
Just before going to bed on the 16th, I got a sharp pain in my chest. Right side, middle, right next to my sternum. It hurt a good amount. Made breathing even more of a challenge. It felt like I had lodged a golf ball into my lungs. I went to bed on the 16th, but even all day on the 17th, it hurt. Didn't seem to improve. So, after posting on Facebook and looking online, I decided that "chest pain = er". So, when Aaron got home, I told him we should go, not a huge emergency, but eat something beforehand.
I only recognized one person from my last ER visit. Aaron recognized many. The only person was the nice guy that helped me sign in last time. Granted, I could do it a lot more easily this time.
This trip involved me just having a chest CT done. I figured I had a blood clot, since it felt like something was lodged in there. Happily, there wasn't. To my dismay, the CT found nothing wrong with the breathing bits. There were still the signs of atelectasis and pleural effusions. I really wasn't near my normal healthy self. Sadly, the CT found that I had developed a pancratic pseudocyst where I had the severe acute necrotizing pancreatitis before. It measured something like 11x7x8cm or something. I was released from the ER, and made a follow up appointment with a GI doctor. I read about them (not enough) and they seemed really scary. I think I cried that night.
In the coming weeks, I started experiencing the intermittent belly/back pain. Wasn't sure what caused it, but likely the pseudocyst.
Tuesday the 18th, the movers came to our Bryn Mawr apartment and took all of our boxes and furniture away. LOTS of boxes and furniture. it took hours. Wednesday, the 20th, the movers came to our new apartment and gave us back all of our boxes (I think our boxes multiplied).
To "celebrate" our new apartment, (and because we had like no food), we ordered from Domino's. I am not a huge pizza fan, so we were playing online, and I was going to create my own breadbowl. I had a semi-healthy one picked out. Then it said we couldn't order it online, and we had to call it in. So, rather than going through the hassle of giving the perfect breadbowl over the phone, I just ordered their super-high-fat-disgusting one. Aaron and I joked about how terrible it was for us. But, we just moved, and we'd start our new healthy lifestyles soon enough (this place is GREAT for running/biking, and there's an in the building fitness center).
So, hours after "enjoying" the pasta bowl of fatty goodness, I woke up at 3am. I was in PAIN. The pain was surreal. I'm not sure if I walked or crawled to the bathroom. I was also going through hot/cold flashes. I may have tried to go to the bathroom first. Then, I sat on the floor next to the toilet and began to vomit. The pain was incredible, though. I couldn't find a suitable position. I found myself contorting on the bathroom floor (so glad it was super just moved in clean). I'd stretch one leg, flex the other into my abdomen. I'd try everything I could to try to make it hurt less. I found myself in positions right next to the toilet, but required a bucket to puke in because the 3 inches of moving my head was too much. Poor Aaron had to be my nurse-maid. I knew being around the puking was terrible for him. I felt bad for him. He got me a bucket to puke in. He got the wet rag I requested, and rubbed it on me as requested. He learned quickly not to touch anything remotely near my belly/back/abdomen/chest. The wet rag was just there to cool me off (I was sweating).
After some significant amount of time on the bathroom floor, I finally decided to try to head to the couch. There, Aaron sacrificed a fermenting bucket to my gastric release. I spent a total of about 13 hours vomiting between the bathroom and the couch. I'd occasionally go into my bathroom to try something else and rinse out the bucket. Eventually around 3 in the afternoon, Aaron came out of the bedroom. I had been somewhat concerned for a little while about the consistency of my vomit. Even after hours of puking, and not eating anything, the color was like an opaque greenish/yellow. I may have eaten some tums to try to 'neutralize' my tummy. But, I was beginning to realize I was expressing bile (from the intestines on the other side of the stomach - somehow the bile found it's way in the wrong way, and out the wrong way). Realizing that puking bile was wrong, and that I was breathing so shallow, it bordered on panting, I figured I should go to the hospital. I realized I was breathing too fast for my body to keep up and I just kept imagining needing to go on a ventilator just to keep oxygenated. Little did I realize, I had atelectasis (partial lungs collapsing on themselves) from all the shallow breathing.
Getting myself ready to go to the hospital was a long process. I gave Aaron instructions on what to get me (pants, shirt). I had to get myself dressed (took a while, every movement was rewarded in severe nausea and vomiting). I was pretty sure I would be hospitalized, so I may have packed a travel bag to go with me. At least an hour or two after making the decision, we headed to the hospital. I sat in the lobby of our new apartment, and had Aaron bring the car around. At the hospital, I insisted he bring me a wheelchair (I think he realized I was pretty serious at this point)...
I'll go more into the hospital stuff later. It really was one big blur. I went to the Suburban Hosptial ER. Spent hours there, transferred to the ICU for a little while, then promised a helicopter ride to John's Hopkins (but they gave me a painful ambulance instead). I was disappointed, and in PAIN. I spent about 9 days at Johns Hopkins till I was released. I spent another 2-3 days at home in a haze going from couch-bed-couch. I spent a month before my abdomen didn't feel like it hated me. Shortly after that, I managed to go to the bathroom somewhat regularly.
New Year's Eve was fun. Had some friends over (5 or 6). Shared a terrible bottle of champagne with them (I drank, but not THAT much). Had various crappy foodstuffs around. Wasn't paying attention to what I was eating, so no correlation for me.
New Year's Day, I spent throwing up. Hours of it. I don't recall any pain. Just puking all day. I remember feeling fine otherwise. But, spent all the waking day throwing up. Did I consider it to be odd? No. Must have been food poisoning (felt fine, right). After all the food was gone, I went to dry heaves (don't think food poisoning causes that). Can I correlate it with anything pancreatic/gallbladder related, no. But, it happened. In hindsight, it may have been related. Did I seek medical attention? No, of course not. I'm retarded. Wouldn't want to waste a doctor visit with just some puking. Oh, I also figured it could have been the stomach flu that was passed around Aaron's family a WEEK earlier (long incubation time, I guess)
This day of puking is probably one of the things that made the next one so long and grueling.
I just looked at the calendar. I think I found one of the first times I had a more severe gallbladder attack.
Aaron was out of town, and I went to my friend's place for a birthday party. I had a backache for hours. I decided to still go to the party (who could resist). I took some alleve before I left the house. Drove the 45 minutes to my friend's place (still had the backache). I honestly can't remember how much/what I ate during that time (I'm sure it involved junk food). I just remember electing to eat an ibuprofin (another NSAID, like alleve), to get rid of the backache. Shortly after, I found myself throwing up in the bathroom. Backache persisted. No position, sitting/lying/standing helped.
I think I had been getting intermittent pain in the area right below my ribcage for at least a few weeks. I attributed that pain to heartburn. This was the first of two major (hours) backaches I got, too. Despite my husband's best intentions for me, I didn't see a doctor. I figured "who goes to the doctor for heartburn". I also didn't associate the backache with the bellyache. The vomiting I figured was associated with the NSAID. It could also have been food related. Who knows. Certainly not worth mentioning to a doctor.
So, I read about all the stuff about "The bible is opposed to gays".. Blah blah blah.. They quote levictus.. I only seem to hear about 2 Lev quotes. About a man lying with another man. I guess they haven't read any of the other important bits..
So, what else does Levictus say?
18 you can't see any family members naked (that's fine)
19-9 You cannot reap all of your harvests, but leave some for the poor and the stranger (farmers will have to remove the 'no tresspassing signs, i guess")
19-19 you cannot wear mixed linen and wool garments, you can't sow a field with mixed seed
19-23 you can't eat the fruit of a tree for at least 4 years. The first 3 it is uncircumcized, the 4th it is holy.. you can eat 5+ fruit
19-26 no eating of blood (no juicy steaks, no black pudding)
19-27 you can't shave your face nor trim your beard
19-28 no cuttings for the dead, no tattoos.
19-33 If a stranger dwells with you in your land, you shall not mistreat him
20-2 something about a Molech.. no clue what it is, but you can be put to death for it
Actually, lots of death there.. Any adultry. Lots of sleeping around.. Gets you stoned to death or put to death by fire.
Lev 22 involves lots of clean/unclean things. And holy foods. And sacrifices. I wonder how many christians make animal offerings.
Lev 23 is about Passover. Christians don't celebrate it. And something about a Feast of Weeks shortly after requires the sacrifice of 7 lambs, one young bull, two rams.... then a kid goat, two male lambs.. man, a wholle farm.. I wonder who still does that?
I just woke up from a dream where there were 2 rappers that were having some sort of rapping showdown.. The one guy made some sorta rhyme about how he's gotta go because he's a geek, nobody was impressed, and the other guy won or whatever. And then the other guy started eating stars.. One or two at a time. Really weird.. But figured I'd write about it, since it was a little funny.. My dream could tell the story better..
I'm officially engaged! I think it became official when we updated our Facebook statuses.. Romantic, eh? Now, I have to sort out the whole getting married part. I'm hoping ASAP when school is done. But, we shall see. I gotta find out when "pinning" is for school. I'm actually thinking September 11th would be a good date. Easy to remember. I don't know if there's anything weird about getting married on an anneversary of a national tragedy, though. I mean, in reality, it shouldn't matter. Does it?