My Gall Bladder has no consideration for others.
Well, I *THINK* the phone interview that I did last Thursday went okay. They said they should get back to me within 5 to 10 business days, so I'm crossing my fingers hopefully! I should know if I got the job (or at least a second interview) by December 22nd at the latest. Yayness! :)
In other news, I spent Sunday night/Monday morning in the Emergency Room at Sanford. Eeps!
At about 10:50pm or so on Sunday night, I was laying in bed watching TV after Jenn had fallen asleep and I got a pain in my stomach, which I mistook for just an upset stomach (I have trouble telling the difference between severe pain and nausea). I went upstairs and took some pepto-bismol and ran a warm bath (two things that usually tend to soothe my tummy) While I was in the tub, the nausea hit full force. I pulled myself over to the toilet and threw up. Up to this point, the experience was something that I had experienced many times in the last 2 years or so. Usually after throwing up or sitting in the tub for a while I feel well enough to go to sleep and I feel better in the morning.
However, after that point, things took a disturbingly scary turn. I found myself in so much pain after throwing up that I was crying (I don't cry very often) I was laying on the bathroom floor, crying, naked and wet. (and if Jenn had been not asleep w earplugs in, I would have yelled to her for help) Thankfully, the pain seemed to come in waves (although I was in too much pain to realize that until much later, when I was in the ER) During one of the lesser parts of the pain, I was able to pull my clothes on so that my dad didn't see me naked when I left the bathroom and went down to Jenn & my bedroom.
I pulled myself into bed as another high point of pain hit me, and contemplated waking Jenn up. Seriously, I wasn't going to wake her up (It seems to be murphy's law or something, but whenever I start complaining about this type of pain, it seems to go away and I end up feeling like a drama queen/idiot/hypochondriac) However, I remembered that women many times have this chest pain and nausea as symptoms of a heart attack. I didn't want to die of a heart attack, so I shook Jenn awake and said "I think I'm having a heart attack!" (I know, what a TERRIBLE way to wake someone up! Yikes!)
Jenn didn't know what to do (I don't blame her, she was sleep-addled, and had taken her Seroquel (her sleepy-time med)) so I went upstairs and told my dad I thought I was having a heart attack. He gave me some aspirin and then called 911. The fire engine and an ambulance came and evaluated me. They wanted to take me to the hospital, but I wasn't sure if my insurance covered the ambulance, so I declined. As soon as they left, Jenn, my dad, and I got into my dad's van and headed to the Sanford emergency room. My dad drove like a race-car driver to get there. It's good it was late at night, so there was hardly any traffic.
We got to the Emergency Room and we got a room right away. They put a bunch of wires on me and did a bunch of tests (can't remember what they were what right now) and took my blood. They figured out that it WASN'T my heart and I wasn't having a heart attack, thank god.
I writhed around in pain for about 3+ hours while they tried different pain meds to see if they would help me (at least that's what I *THINK* the reason was why I was in pain so long) in the meantime, they gave me an ultrasound of my gall bladder and noticed that I had/have a lot of stones in it.
I am unclear on what happened in the time I was in the emergency room. I guess my brain was too addled with pain to pay attention to secondary functions like recording memories. I know that I'm missing a lot of things in my mental replay because I'll say something like "I wish they would have said definitively that it was gall bladder problems" and Jenn will tell me "Ummm... they did, Marne. Like 3 or 4 times." ACK.
They finally got my pain under control and got me discharged at about 3:30am, and they recommended that I just call the surgery doctor in the morning and get the surgery for the removal of my gall bladder scheduled.
I tell you what, if I had known what a PAIN IN THE ASS it would be to schedule my gall bladder surgery, I would have just stayed in the emergency room until they gave me my surgery (another example of my memory not working; Jenn says they gave me that option and I turned it down. I have NO recollection of this)
I called Dr. Tschetter's office (the surgeon who was supposedly on call the night that I came in, even though I NEVER saw him. I only saw Dr. Vankeulen.) and they couldn't schedule my surgery until either December 23rd or January 9th, Neither of these would work, because in case you hadn't heard, Jennifer is having a hysterectomy on December 23rd, and it would be very bad for us to BOTH be laid up at the same time. (it's something I want to avoid at all costs)
Plus the fact that since the attack, my gall bladder seems to protest a little whenever I eat anything. And I HAVE been sticking to a bland diet like they want me to. However, I am afraid of another attack, and I don't want to wait until next month to get the damned little offending organ removed out of me.
Anyway, thankfully I have a sister who is a surgical nurse who works at the hospital. She poked around a bit and got me in for a consultation with one of the other surgeons, Dr. Sorrell, for 11:30AM this Thursday, the 15th. She told me to fast from midnight the day before because they'd probably do the surgery that day. I was relieved.
However, after I went to the trouble and got that all set up, the hospital calls me back and says they want me to see the doctor that I "saw" in the ER, Dr. Tschetter, because then he will know what is going on with my case. I tried to explain to them that I never even SAW him, but they said I had to go see him. Somehow a magical consultation opened up with Dr. Tschetter on Friday at 11AM. *sai*
I am still going to fast the day of my appointment and hope that I get the surgery that day. I don't know if I will or not. I'm going to talk to my sister about it tonight at supper.
I've decided *this* about the appointment/consult on Friday. If they tell me that they think it's something other than my gall bladder, and THAT'S why they don't wanna do the surgery, then fine. I will work with that. HOWEVER, if they tell me it's my gall bladder, but they don't schedule my surgery for later that day, then I will be pissed. I will leave the doctors office and go have Long John Silvers for lunch and if that doesn't trigger an attack, then I am having Burger King for supper! :P Then when I go to the ER, I'm going to stay there until they remove the damn thing!!
I tell you my gall bladder has a TERRIBLE sense of timing. It doesn't need to be pulling these shenanigans right before the end of the year and right before Jenn's surgery! I guess my body says "Hey! No fair! If Jenn gets to have surgeries we do too!!" ;}
In other news, I spent Sunday night/Monday morning in the Emergency Room at Sanford. Eeps!
At about 10:50pm or so on Sunday night, I was laying in bed watching TV after Jenn had fallen asleep and I got a pain in my stomach, which I mistook for just an upset stomach (I have trouble telling the difference between severe pain and nausea). I went upstairs and took some pepto-bismol and ran a warm bath (two things that usually tend to soothe my tummy) While I was in the tub, the nausea hit full force. I pulled myself over to the toilet and threw up. Up to this point, the experience was something that I had experienced many times in the last 2 years or so. Usually after throwing up or sitting in the tub for a while I feel well enough to go to sleep and I feel better in the morning.
However, after that point, things took a disturbingly scary turn. I found myself in so much pain after throwing up that I was crying (I don't cry very often) I was laying on the bathroom floor, crying, naked and wet. (and if Jenn had been not asleep w earplugs in, I would have yelled to her for help) Thankfully, the pain seemed to come in waves (although I was in too much pain to realize that until much later, when I was in the ER) During one of the lesser parts of the pain, I was able to pull my clothes on so that my dad didn't see me naked when I left the bathroom and went down to Jenn & my bedroom.
I pulled myself into bed as another high point of pain hit me, and contemplated waking Jenn up. Seriously, I wasn't going to wake her up (It seems to be murphy's law or something, but whenever I start complaining about this type of pain, it seems to go away and I end up feeling like a drama queen/idiot/hypochondriac) However, I remembered that women many times have this chest pain and nausea as symptoms of a heart attack. I didn't want to die of a heart attack, so I shook Jenn awake and said "I think I'm having a heart attack!" (I know, what a TERRIBLE way to wake someone up! Yikes!)
Jenn didn't know what to do (I don't blame her, she was sleep-addled, and had taken her Seroquel (her sleepy-time med)) so I went upstairs and told my dad I thought I was having a heart attack. He gave me some aspirin and then called 911. The fire engine and an ambulance came and evaluated me. They wanted to take me to the hospital, but I wasn't sure if my insurance covered the ambulance, so I declined. As soon as they left, Jenn, my dad, and I got into my dad's van and headed to the Sanford emergency room. My dad drove like a race-car driver to get there. It's good it was late at night, so there was hardly any traffic.
We got to the Emergency Room and we got a room right away. They put a bunch of wires on me and did a bunch of tests (can't remember what they were what right now) and took my blood. They figured out that it WASN'T my heart and I wasn't having a heart attack, thank god.
I writhed around in pain for about 3+ hours while they tried different pain meds to see if they would help me (at least that's what I *THINK* the reason was why I was in pain so long) in the meantime, they gave me an ultrasound of my gall bladder and noticed that I had/have a lot of stones in it.
I am unclear on what happened in the time I was in the emergency room. I guess my brain was too addled with pain to pay attention to secondary functions like recording memories. I know that I'm missing a lot of things in my mental replay because I'll say something like "I wish they would have said definitively that it was gall bladder problems" and Jenn will tell me "Ummm... they did, Marne. Like 3 or 4 times." ACK.
They finally got my pain under control and got me discharged at about 3:30am, and they recommended that I just call the surgery doctor in the morning and get the surgery for the removal of my gall bladder scheduled.
I tell you what, if I had known what a PAIN IN THE ASS it would be to schedule my gall bladder surgery, I would have just stayed in the emergency room until they gave me my surgery (another example of my memory not working; Jenn says they gave me that option and I turned it down. I have NO recollection of this)
I called Dr. Tschetter's office (the surgeon who was supposedly on call the night that I came in, even though I NEVER saw him. I only saw Dr. Vankeulen.) and they couldn't schedule my surgery until either December 23rd or January 9th, Neither of these would work, because in case you hadn't heard, Jennifer is having a hysterectomy on December 23rd, and it would be very bad for us to BOTH be laid up at the same time. (it's something I want to avoid at all costs)
Plus the fact that since the attack, my gall bladder seems to protest a little whenever I eat anything. And I HAVE been sticking to a bland diet like they want me to. However, I am afraid of another attack, and I don't want to wait until next month to get the damned little offending organ removed out of me.
Anyway, thankfully I have a sister who is a surgical nurse who works at the hospital. She poked around a bit and got me in for a consultation with one of the other surgeons, Dr. Sorrell, for 11:30AM this Thursday, the 15th. She told me to fast from midnight the day before because they'd probably do the surgery that day. I was relieved.
However, after I went to the trouble and got that all set up, the hospital calls me back and says they want me to see the doctor that I "saw" in the ER, Dr. Tschetter, because then he will know what is going on with my case. I tried to explain to them that I never even SAW him, but they said I had to go see him. Somehow a magical consultation opened up with Dr. Tschetter on Friday at 11AM. *sai*
I am still going to fast the day of my appointment and hope that I get the surgery that day. I don't know if I will or not. I'm going to talk to my sister about it tonight at supper.
I've decided *this* about the appointment/consult on Friday. If they tell me that they think it's something other than my gall bladder, and THAT'S why they don't wanna do the surgery, then fine. I will work with that. HOWEVER, if they tell me it's my gall bladder, but they don't schedule my surgery for later that day, then I will be pissed. I will leave the doctors office and go have Long John Silvers for lunch and if that doesn't trigger an attack, then I am having Burger King for supper! :P Then when I go to the ER, I'm going to stay there until they remove the damn thing!!
I tell you my gall bladder has a TERRIBLE sense of timing. It doesn't need to be pulling these shenanigans right before the end of the year and right before Jenn's surgery! I guess my body says "Hey! No fair! If Jenn gets to have surgeries we do too!!" ;}