Room 484
Friday afternoon Dr. Lusby pulled the trigger and told me to head over to the hospital because I am having a stinkin' UC flare. Room 484 at BSA Hospital in Amarillo is not my idea of a weekend getaway, but here I sit. Or should I say lay? I am stuck in a dang hospital bed wearing plastic labels on both wrists and hooked to an IV bag. I've been poked and prodded, squeezed by a blood pressure cuff and now I have to pee in a "hat" to measure my liquid outflow. Oh, and a nurse comes in to take vitals every 4 hours, or at least every time I fall asleep anyway.
I wish I could say it was a shock but I kinda knew it was coming. I've been having the early signs of a flare for about a month now and this week it jumped up to full fledged flare status.
This is not good.
Thursday I had a CAT scan to rule out any other problems which it did. This confirmed that what I am dealing with is a flare of UC. What's a flare of Ulcerative Colitis? Well, basically, the mucous lining of the colon has become irritated for some reason and this causes the colon to begin to shed the lining and little sores or ulcers will start to form causing it to bleed. This causes a person to have a lot of BAD diarrhea with blood, abdominal cramping and rectal pain. Eventually the infected area will begin to swell and cause the intestinal tract to shut down if the problem goes untreated. It can happen very quickly too. So I knew, even though my appointment with Dr. Lusby wasn't until Friday, I would be headed to the hospital. I had even started to put together a hospital bag so Shannon wouldn't have to pack much.
Friday afternoon I was admitted. I could not eat anything due to severe cramping and nausea. I am now hooked up to an IV through my port-a-catheter in my right shoulder area. They are running saline in me like there is no tomorrow and throwing in a wonderful pain killer, nausea killer and a dadgum steroid now and then. I LOATHE steroids and am soooooooo, so not happy about this. However, steroids are the quickest way to get a hold of this flare and start healing the colon. I'm also on a liquid diet of some kind of mystery broth, ice tea, jello, and a tiny cup of misc juice. Even the jello sends me searching for the nurse call button for pain meds. I haven't eaten since Thursday around 4pm.
To prep me for a colonoscopy scheduled for early Saturday morning, Friday evening the nurse brought me a huge thing of sodium bicarbonate drink, and by huge I am talking the container of Tide detergent that holds 96 loads of liquid huge. I was supposed to drink the whole thing but because I hadn't eaten since Thursday I only had to do 1/2. It was AWFUL! Imagine the ocean salt water x 10, that's what it taste like. Now imagine having the cramping and nausea of food poisoning and being made to drink this nasty stuff in big gulps. By the time I finally got it down I felt worse than when I checked in to the hospital! Oh but wait--then the nasty drink starts to work and has me running to the bathroom every 10 minutes to evacuate my bowels. At one point, I just stayed on the pot waiting for the next episode because I was too tired to go back to bed (which is literally 2 feet from the bathroom). At one point in the wee hours of the morning I was sleeping so hard that I didn't make it to the bathroom in time. This is an absolutely horrible feeling, not to mention terribly embarrassing! My nurse was so very kind to me saying that it happens all the time all while she donned a hazmat suit to change my bedding. I sat in the corner in a fresh hospital designer gown trying to shrink into the floor.
I finally crawl back into the newly made bed for about 30 minutes when a very young, handsome, 20 something kid strolls in to take me to the dreaded colon-cam session. I manage to get out of bed and into the wheelchair and not expose him to the ripple-dimple wobbly bits of my backside. He then takes off down the hallways and into elevators like he's in the Indy 500 race. My head is killing me from lack of sleep and I'm a bit drug-drunk so everything around me is going by in a blur of sanitized hospitalness. We make it to the procedure receiving area in what I am sure, is his best personal record. He helps throw me into the tiny bed that I will bare all for my doctor and his camera and runs off to collect on his bet.
Two different nurses take me back to the procedure room for final preparations and begin filling vials of my favorite cocktail, not to mention much needed at the moment, Versaid and Demoral. That's the last thing I remember. Thank God it was finally coming to an end.
A few hours later I come to back in my hospital room with my pillow and blanket that Shannon brought me from home. The rest of the day was very uneventful and I slept quite a bit in between visits with friends and family.
I dared to eat jello at lunch and again at dinner but only made it half way through both times before paging the nurse for my pain meds.
I really, really hate this disease.
Shannon and I are looking over all the options I have from here on out. There are not many as my current treatment of Remicade was my last hope before surgery. So now, do we continue with the Remicade and hope this was a fluke deal? Which, I know in my soul, is not a one time thing. If I'm flaring on Remicade, I will continue to do so. Or, do we opt for a colectomy? This is where a surgeon "collects" my colon and leaves me with a bag on the outside of my abdomen...
The upside of surgery--I will be cured. The downside--I will no longer have a colon or normal bowl function. Right now, cured looks a heck of a lot better and poop bag doesn't seem so bad. Lots to think about and I need more pain meds so I'm going to turn this off for now. Thanks for letting me think out loud, it helps.
To prep me for a colonoscopy scheduled for early Saturday morning, Friday evening the nurse brought me a huge thing of sodium bicarbonate drink, and by huge I am talking the container of Tide detergent that holds 96 loads of liquid huge. I was supposed to drink the whole thing but because I hadn't eaten since Thursday I only had to do 1/2. It was AWFUL! Imagine the ocean salt water x 10, that's what it taste like. Now imagine having the cramping and nausea of food poisoning and being made to drink this nasty stuff in big gulps. By the time I finally got it down I felt worse than when I checked in to the hospital! Oh but wait--then the nasty drink starts to work and has me running to the bathroom every 10 minutes to evacuate my bowels. At one point, I just stayed on the pot waiting for the next episode because I was too tired to go back to bed (which is literally 2 feet from the bathroom). At one point in the wee hours of the morning I was sleeping so hard that I didn't make it to the bathroom in time. This is an absolutely horrible feeling, not to mention terribly embarrassing! My nurse was so very kind to me saying that it happens all the time all while she donned a hazmat suit to change my bedding. I sat in the corner in a fresh hospital designer gown trying to shrink into the floor.
I finally crawl back into the newly made bed for about 30 minutes when a very young, handsome, 20 something kid strolls in to take me to the dreaded colon-cam session. I manage to get out of bed and into the wheelchair and not expose him to the ripple-dimple wobbly bits of my backside. He then takes off down the hallways and into elevators like he's in the Indy 500 race. My head is killing me from lack of sleep and I'm a bit drug-drunk so everything around me is going by in a blur of sanitized hospitalness. We make it to the procedure receiving area in what I am sure, is his best personal record. He helps throw me into the tiny bed that I will bare all for my doctor and his camera and runs off to collect on his bet.
Two different nurses take me back to the procedure room for final preparations and begin filling vials of my favorite cocktail, not to mention much needed at the moment, Versaid and Demoral. That's the last thing I remember. Thank God it was finally coming to an end.
A few hours later I come to back in my hospital room with my pillow and blanket that Shannon brought me from home. The rest of the day was very uneventful and I slept quite a bit in between visits with friends and family.
I dared to eat jello at lunch and again at dinner but only made it half way through both times before paging the nurse for my pain meds.
I really, really hate this disease.
Shannon and I are looking over all the options I have from here on out. There are not many as my current treatment of Remicade was my last hope before surgery. So now, do we continue with the Remicade and hope this was a fluke deal? Which, I know in my soul, is not a one time thing. If I'm flaring on Remicade, I will continue to do so. Or, do we opt for a colectomy? This is where a surgeon "collects" my colon and leaves me with a bag on the outside of my abdomen...
The upside of surgery--I will be cured. The downside--I will no longer have a colon or normal bowl function. Right now, cured looks a heck of a lot better and poop bag doesn't seem so bad. Lots to think about and I need more pain meds so I'm going to turn this off for now. Thanks for letting me think out loud, it helps.
Love you, Monnie!
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