When I was discharged from the emergency room, the doctor told me to rest and take the pain meds she prescribed. She wasn't too concerned about the ovarian cyst and said that when it did burst, I would feel better! Well, part of that happened. I already had terrible pain. Adding a ruptured cyst on top of that truly mad me feel like I was going to die. It was awful.
But she said the pain would go away...and it didn't. Actually the pain got worse. The pain meds were useless. All day on Thanksgiving and all the night before and all last night I was in bed or in the bathroom - or using up tissue boxes to dry my tears. The boys came up to visit a couple times, which made my day. And Brian hung out with me as we watched "The Polar Express" for the first time. When it ended, he said: "Thanks, Mama, this was the best movie ever for me! And you're the best Mommy ever for me, too! You're my best friend ever."
Thanksgiving night I knew I needed to go back to the hospital. I met all of their criteria for going back for a reevaluation... And then some. But the boys were in bed asleep - and sick. I didn't want to drag them out in the cold to have Ed drop me off. I wasn't going to call a neighbor on thanksgiving and ask them to come sit in our sick house. And I didn't want to call an ambulance and cause a scene. So I decided to wait it out through the night and if I felt this bad in the morning - Ed could drive me with the boys.
Each hour I turned and looked at the clock. Sleep came in short spurts and I could not get comfortable in any position. I also needed to make many, many, many trips to the bathroom - if you know what I mean. Every step from my bed to the bath sent terrible pain to my abdomen. I considered that ambulance several times.
When the sun came up, I woke Ed and told him he needed to take me to the hospital.
In the emergency room they quickly realized that I was far worse than two days before. After examination, the ER doctor had strong suspicions of a perforated bowel or colitis. Both pretty terrible scenarios. Thankfully they dosed me up with IV pain meds which took the edge off. But I still felt the four different abdominal exams that produced copious tears... A rectal exam that was very rude... A transvaginal ultrasound AND an abdominal ultrasound which kicked that girl right off our Christmas card list... A second CT scan... And Two IVs because they suspected sepsis.
But here's where it got weird. All of those tests showed nothing significant that would be causing the fevers and pain! Still, they knew that something was very wrong and decided to admit me for a few days. I was devastated to hear that. I've barely cared for poor sick Gavin all week - and I've hardly seen Brian. This just broke my heart.
Their suspicion at this point is a bowel infection. I'm in a private room with isolation precautions. There are tests still pending and I've met with a surgeon should something happen or be revealed. Something is definitely amiss in this belly of mine. They are concerned with how sick I am and will be monitoring me very closely. I'd like to say I'm pain free, but I'm not. The doctor wants to be sure I can feel when things come and go. I'm not happy about that part. I'm pretty tired of sitting in a bed in terrible pain.
I'm not going to lie - I'm pretty nervous. Okay, extremely nervous. The rushing and concerned faces in the ER got to me.
I will be very happy when I'm home holding those sweet boys of mine.
Thank you, as always, for your love and support.