It would appear that my luck was finally turning around. Dr. Satan had been defeated, and I was feeling better! I enjoyed having my brother home from college on his spring break, and I was looking forward to my spring break the following week. Spring was starting to bloom in Des Moines, and on one beautiful morning my mom and I went on a walk to the local library. This was the first time in a long time that I had gotten any exercise, and it felt so good. The warm spring breeze felt refreshing on my skin; my arms were still bruised and sore from all the blood work that I had done at the beginning of the year. I wandered around the library and checked out a wide variety of books to read over spring break. I had also made some plans to meet up with a few friends. The next day was Monday, and since there was no school for me or my sister, us girls were going shopping. I had a long list of Pinterest-inspired crafts that I wanted to do so my mom and I went to some craft stores in the morning. In the afternoon, my mom, sister, and I went to the mall. I tried to enjoy shopping, but I suddenly did not feel well. The abdominal pain was pretty much gone, but I seemed to be experiencing more of it while shopping. It was a different kind of pain though. I wrote in my journal that my "bowels hurt". I also had a strange foreboding feeling. It's hard to explain, but I just had a weird feeling about the upcoming week. I tried to push all these thoughts out of my head, but the pain seemed to be growing worse as the day proceeded. I wasn't able to babysit by myself that night so my mom came with me. The pain was very bad when I got home from babysitting. I could not figure out what the problem was. As I lay in my bed trying to fall asleep, I noticed that the pain, which had been all over my abdomen, had shifted toward the right side of my abdomen. Before I fell asleep, a thought suddenly came into my mind:
It's my appendix.
March 20, 2012
When I woke up the next morning, my mom was sitting by the side of my bed. She was very worried about me; she called Dr. S.'s office but all of his appointments were booked for the day. My abdominal pain was at a level two when I woke up, and it was still on the lower right side of my abdomen. I was supposed to babysit that day, but my mom and I decided to cancel. I ended up taking a nap that morning, and when I woke up around 10:00 my abdominal pain had hit an all-time high of a level eight. Besides waking up from having my gall bladder removed, this pain was one of the worst I've ever had. Due to the location, I was convinced my appendix was infected. My mom called Dr. S.'s office again and pleaded for an appointment. Somebody (most likely Nurse T.) had snuck me in at noon. While getting ready to leave, I didn't know what to expect. If my appendix was the problem, would I have to have surgery today?! Anticipating a long day, I brought Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with me. I was in so much pain that I had trouble walking from the car to Dr. S.'s office. Nurse T. could automatically tell that something was very wrong. Dr. S. could also. He asked if the car ride to the appointment caused more pain? While I had been uncomfortable, I didn't experience any more pain than I was already in while riding in the car. Dr. S. pushed down on the lower right side of my abdomen, quickly released, and then asked how that felt. It hurt!
"Do you know what's down there?" Dr. S.
"An intestine?" I guessed, even though I knew what it was.
"An appendix! I think your appendix is infected."
"Well, that really sucks...."
"Nah, it doesn't suck if removing it makes you feel better!" Dr. S. said with his usual enthusiasm. "I think you need to go entertain a surgeon."
I asked if I could see, Dr. R., the surgeon who removed my gall bladder. Dr. S. called Dr. R.'s office across the street, but Dr. R. wasn't going to be back in the office until 1:00. While I sat in the exam room, Dr. S. suggested that I not eat or drink anything in case I would have to go into surgery. So many questions, fears, and worries were running through my head. I canceled them out by reading my Harry Potter book. Eventually, Dr. R. called Dr. S. back and told him to send me over to the emergency room where things would move faster. On our way out, Nurse T. asked my mom to call once we knew what was going on. We drove the short distance to the emergency room. This was my second visit to the ER; the first visit was when I broke my arm when I was eight years old. That was at the other hospital, though. As is typical at a hospital, we had to park ridiculously far away. Walking was so difficult! I somehow made it into the ER, and I remember wishing that I was wearing a mask in case c.diff was floating around. I checked into the ER with two nice ladies who both told me that it was a "great day to be a pediatric." I wasn't sure what that meant, but I hoped that it meant I would get an answer quickly. I had to sit in the waiting room for a little bit until a nurse called my name. She also told me that it was a good thing that I was a pediatric patient. She led me into a very small and cold room inside the pediatric ER. There was a gurney, two chairs, and a counter and cupboards filled with medical supplies. The nurse asked lots of questions about my medical history, family history, and personal questions about thoughts of suicide. NO! Just get me a surgeon! I wanted to shout. Since it was so cold, the nurse brought me a warm blanket and I laid down on the gurney. She asked me if I wanted to watch TV or if she could bring me any movies, but I said that I would rather read my book. I was so thankful for the distraction of Harry Potter! There was a knock at the door, and a medical student and resident came in. I'm pretty sure my mom and I were both thinking the same thing: please go practice on somebody else! They were both actually very kind and educated. The student had a thick African accent and joked about how he was trying to be cool when his ear buds got tangled around his stethoscope. Both the student and resident asked the same question about the car ride to the hospital. After examining me they said they were going to talk to Dr. R. and then come back. It was at this moment that I learned how slow hospitals move. I was so glad that I had my book to distract me. At some point, Dr. R. ordered a urine sample, blood sample, and x-rays of my abdomen. Since I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything, the nurses put an IV in to keep me hydrated. A Child Life specialist came in and gave me a speech written for a four-year-old about why doctors want to stick needles in their patients. I politely listening, and when asked if I had ever had an IV put in before, I responded: "Oh yeah, lots of times."
"Oh. So you already know everything I just told you." The Child Life specialist stated.
Since I was dehydrated, it took the nurses several tries to get the IV in. Eventually they got it in my left arm, which isn't the usual side the IV pole is on. It was somewhat funny to watch the x-ray tech awkwardly struggle with a left-sided IV pole as she wheeled me to the x-ray. After the x-ray, I was wheeled back to my tiny ER room. I was so exhausted from the pain, but I couldn't fall asleep. The urine sample and x-ray were normal, and the surgical resident came in to tell me about the blood test. My white blood cells were not elevated (there was no sign of infection in my blood) so the surgeons doubted that my appendix was the issue. However, they were uncomfortable sending me home with level eight pain so they wanted to admit me to the hospital. Never in my life had I (or my parents or siblings) been admitted to the hospital. I just wanted to go home, sleep in my warm bed, and cuddle with my cat. My mom called my dad and sister and asked them to bring my stuffed owl, Hedwig, and We We, the teddy bear my grandparents gave me when I went to Iowa City. I knew leaving wasn't a good idea, but I was so scared to be in the hospital. Only really, really sick people had to stay in a hospital. Shortly, a nurse came in with a wheelchair to take me to the pediatric floor. I had seen billboards advertising the newly refurbished pediatric floor, and now I was going to get a first-hand look at me. Lucky me. The nurse, my mom, and I got on the elevator and the nurse pushed the button to go to Floor 3. Before the doors closed, two of the biggest police officers I have ever seen stepped on. They both gave me kind looks, and I laughed at the idea of them being like body guards. When we reached the 3rd floor, the nurse said to the receptionist, "This is 385.", and I remember thinking, oh great...I've become a number. I actually don't remember getting from the receptionist's desk to my room, but I remember being weighed and trying to get comfortable in the bed. A nurse and tech were immediately in and introduced themselves. They were both very nice and friendly. They told us where my mom could go to get food and what the nighttime routine was like. The surgeons had ordered that I have a clear liquid diet for the rest of the day and then nothing after midnight. The nurse was very concerned that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink so she brought me some apple juice. Once I was finally left alone, I took in my room. It had a green theme to it, and it was huge! I had my own private bathroom, a big TV, a pull-out couch, a recliner, and a big window. Above the head of the bed, there was a colorful mural of a clownfish in a sea anemone. There were two dry erase boards, one had "Room 385", my nurses' names, and a spot for notes. My bed was surprisingly comfortable for a hospital bed. It could re-adjust in just about 1,000 different ways, and there was a big round light about it. I really liked how bright and colorful the room was. One of the nurses suggested that I get a heating pad to put on my abdomen so I pressed the call button on the side of my bed. I thought it would summon a nurse to my room so I was surprised to hear a pleasant voice come through the speaker asking me what I needed. I requested a heating pad, and it was brought to my room. It didn't take the pain away, but it was very comforting. A clear liquid diet was brought up from the kitchen, consisting of jello, chicken broth, an assortment of drinks, and apple juice. I had a few bites of the jello, and it was disgusting! I pushed the tray aside and drank some apple juice. The nurse told me that on the pediatric floor they keep track of everything that goes in and out....that means bathroom business. My dad and sister, Rachel, arrived with a bag full of stuff for me. Not only did they bring my stuffed animals, but Rachel also packed my sleeping mask, iPod, charger, and Sudoku puzzle book. We talked for a while and then my dad left. Rachel stayed behind and we watched TV and played Draw Something on our iPods. Rachel stayed for a few hours and left promising to return in the morning. I ended up having to text my friends and cancel our plans. As bedtime got closer, I started to get nervous. The nurse told me that I would be woken up every four hours to check vitals and the on-call resident surgeon would also be in at some time. We had asked for pain meds, but the surgeons didn't want to "mask" the pain. The night-shift nurse had taken over, and she told me that she was very impressed at how I was handling level eight pain: "I would have hit the roof a looooong time ago!"
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| The fish mural |
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| The cross in my room |
It seemed like I had just fallen asleep when the nurse woke me up to check my vitals. She told me that it was after midnight so I couldn't have anything to drink. In between being woken up every four hours for vitals, the hospital helicopter was constantly waking me up. My room must have been close to the helicopter pad, and the loud noise and shaking of the building woke me up several times. It made me sad to think of how many people were in life-or-death situations in just one night. At 2:30 a.m., the on-call surgical resident woke me up. He asked how my pain was--like I was really going to give him a definite answer at 2:30 in the morning! At 5:30 a.m., the surgical resident who was with me in the ER came in. I was annoyed at being woken up at a ridiculous time, and I was supposed to answer how I felt. As far as I could tell, my pain was the same. I went back to sleep and woke up on my own at 7:30 a.m. My pain was still at a level eight: no better but no worse. Blood was drawn to check my white blood cell count, and my sister came back bringing a supply of food for my mom. We watched the Today show until my nurse came back with the results from the blood work. My white blood cells were still not elevated, meaning there was no sign of infection in my body. A surgeon (I was relieved to see a doctor and not another resident) came in shortly after the blood work results came back. The surgeons had completely ruled out appendicitis. So what was causing the severe abdominal pain? The surgeon wanted me to try walking around, eating, and then see how I felt. His suggestion was to bring in either a gynecologist or a GI doctor. He asked if I had been any of the hospital's GI doctors. I told him that I last saw Dr. Di in October.
"He's good...he's very good." The surgeon replied.
It was decided that I would walk around the floor, eat something, and then see how I felt. The nurses instructed us on how to order something from the cafeteria. I was nervous that the cafeteria would contaminate me with gluten, but they did a great job handling my dietary needs. My mom explained that I couldn't have gluten or dairy and my food couldn't come in contact with gluten. I ordered gluten-free toast with no butter and some peaches. While waiting for my food to come, my mom, sister, and I took a walk around the floor. I felt so pathetic walking around in my hospital gown with my mom pushing my IV pole, but it did feel good to stretch my legs. I was also able to take in more of the floor. It was so bright and colorful! There were blue, green, orange, and yellow tiles on the floor that matched the color of the rooms. Towards the end of my short stroll, I felt wobbly and dizzy. My mom was amazed that I hadn't ate anything in 24 hours, but I still wasn't hungry. I got settled back in my room before my breakfast arrived. The toast was definitely from a store-bought loaf of gluten-free bed (all you GF eaters out there will understand what that means!), and the peaches weren't too bad. While I ate my breakfast, my mom, sister, and I watched episodes of Downton Abbey off of Netflix. After I finished eating, I felt worse. I had horrible nausea and the pain was more intense. I had so much pain that I felt like I couldn't move or breathe. The resident surgeon was called, and my nurse put Zofran (an anti-nausea medicine) through my IV. While she was putting the medicine through my IV, I received a surprise visit from Nurse T.! It was so great to see a familiar face. After chatting for a little bit, Nurse T. suggested that we ask if Dr. Di could come over to the hospital, since it seemed obvious that my pain was caused by a GI problem. After Nurse. T. left, the resident surgeon came in and we asked if Dr. Di could see me. The resident was on board with our plan and left to call Dr. Di. Meanwhile, I was detached from my IV! The nurse told me several times that I keep drinking apple juice to stay hydrated. Rachel had left to bring back a fresh change of clothes, and I was so looking forward to changing! After changing into fresh and clean clothes, it was time for lunch. Absolutely nothing sounded good so my mom ordered a random assortment of food from the cafeteria. Rice, green beans, and canned pears were sent up. I wasn't too thrilled with the rice, but the pears were good. However, those green beans were the best green beans I have ever had! Even to this day, I'll get a craving for the hospital's green beans. They were just plain green beans from a can, but they tasted so delicious! After my revelation about hospital green beans, my nurse came in and told me that Dr. Di was on vacation. Dr. G., the adult GI who oversees Dr. Di's patients when he's gone, would be able to come instead. After she left, I got upset. I officially wanted to go home. I was in so much pain, I wanted to see Oliver, I didn't like how the bed felt anymore, I was exhausted from being woke up so many times, and I wanted my doctor to come and see me. Ever since my experience with Dr. Satan in Iowa City, I was very suspicious of new doctors. I just knew I wouldn't like the adult GI who came to see me, and he would be a total flunky. I read my Harry Potter book to take my mind off things and then went for another walk around the floor with my mom. Once I was back in my room, a med student who was doing her GI rotation came in. My mom and I gave her the whole story, and then she left saying the adult GI doctor would be in shortly. Dr. G. was an older and gruff doctor with a pierced ear. While listening to my story, he was confused on pain vs. nausea but eventually got the story straight.
"I don't know." He said while shrugging his shoulders.
While doing a physical exam, he asked if I ever had headaches. I told him that I had a daily headache, and that seemed to help him decide on a diagnosis: irritable bowel syndrome
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Irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) is a disorder that leads to abdominal pain and cramping, changes in bowel movements, and other symptoms.
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| Me with the bear my grandparents gave me. |
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| Rachel's sign |
TO BE CONTINUED.........
