Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Putting Pancreatitis to Rest

This is the last post on the subject, as I am anxious to move on to more interesting topics!  But I'd be remiss if I didn't close the loop on the Gallstone/Pancreatitis story, however boring it may be!  I saw a surgeon, as appointed, last Thursday.  Said surgeon was notably shocked by the fact I had not checked myself into a hospital before our appointment, since most pancreatitis is diagnosed in the hospital.  I was informed it's standard operating procedure in ER rooms that any patient who walks through the doors with pancreatitis leaves minus one gallbladder.  I was informed that my inattentiveness to my condition (what was I to do? I was all alone?) had resulted in permanent damage to my pancreas, though the extent - deemed to be more minimal than maximal at this point - could not be determined.  The solution to my pain, bodily compromise, and overall physical woe:  removal of the gallbladder; and fast.  So last Friday (the 14th?), my Mother stepped in to the role formerly occupied by my ex-husband, and took me to the ambulatory surgery center for the 90 minute surgery.  Funny how a surgery that takes 90 minutes manages to fill an entire day's dance card?  We literally did not leave the facility until 5:00pm, and we were there by 11:00am.  My Mother, filling her role well, held my hand when possible, but during the times of intense pain, I preferred to gnarl my hands and face up like some sort of gargoyle:  I don't know why, but I kept telling my Mother this stance "kept the pain in."  Undeterred, and no doubt worried about future wrinkles, she kept trying to turn my frown upside down - yes, using her fingers, she was trying to turn the edges of my pain-induced grimace into a smile!  When I questioned her - and I didn't say much (trying to keep the pain in meant keeping my mouth shut, as well) - she offered up the wrinkle solution:  she'd hate for me to get stuck with frown wrinkles instead of smile ones.  As if 90 minutes would negate the thousands of large-toothed, full-face, Big Southern Smiles for which I am known!  (At least in photographs). 

If I seem to be meandering, and if you're thinking that photographs and gallbladders couldn't be more distant topics, believe it or not:  you're wrong.  During my attempts at keeping my pain at bay (and therefore not particularly aware of my surroundings), My mother was given my badge of honor: 3 laparoscopic photographs of my wayward gallbladder, pre-removal.  Remarkably, it still contained more than 50 stones!  The doctor gave her the photos, shook his head again, and said:  "this would have never been over (meaning, the pain)... I can't believe she waited so long to get this thing taken out."  Two days after this moment, once I had enough pain remission and Cream of Wheat to care, I asked to see my photos.  Surprise:  they'd been lost.  We spent the entire recovery period in a curtained off 8'x5' space (I'm being generous with these dimensions) and somehow the only items given back to us were lost (I learned they don't return the gallbladder).  My Mother swears I lost the photos, though I never un-gnarled either hand enough to clutch one (she demonstrated further attempts at getting me to un-gnarl myself, one being to pull up a definitively chlinched shut eyelid and waving the photos in front of my eyeball; unfortunately this was my one and only time to see the offending organ).  Alas, the photos must have been left behind for someone else's enjoyment.  However, in a town where, according to the surgeon, "Gallbladders grow on trees," I doubt my pictures would have held much fascination for anyone else.  Note to self:  ask for duplicate photos at post-op visit.

It's now Tuesday, May 18, and I'm feeling much better.  Still tired and sleepy, but the pain is mostly gone (though I DO still feel like I have a fishing lure tugging at my belly button).  Tomorrow I'm even planning on blow-drying my hair which, since it's become so long, is both an aerobic and muscle-building exercise (think round brushes of many sizes, a heavy "salon" hair dryer, a plethora of curls, and a compelling desire for straight-as-a-board hair, and I'm certain you can imagine the exertion involved).  OK, I think I'm officially done with all things pancrease & gallbladder-related! 
I like this blogging .... it's like writing a diary.  I don't care if anyone reads it or not.  I get to say whatever I want and don't have to worry what anyone else thinks about it!  If by some SHOCKING and miniscule chance that someone manages to stumble upon this blog - and let's increase the odds exponentially by saying they're actually interested enough in officially 'FOLLOWING' it, then I might have to consider censoring what I say a bit.  Though I don't think I would; I'm too transparent.   A little opacity would probably be good for me, but opacity isn't my forte.  I'm welcoming any discussion on this blog about the pros and cons of transparency, the pros and cons of opacity, and/or "transparency vs. opacity: which is better in an interpersonal sense?"  Thanks for writing this, Jennifer.  You're welcome.  Thanks for listening, Jennifer.  My pleasure.

2 comments:

John Galt said...

Jennie;
What a narrative! I am sorry you went through that - but happy that you are recovering so well - but you write a very realistic account of what you went through.
You solicit comments on the pros and cons of transparency. I advocate transparency, although I need to practice it more myself, in most situations. In your case, you have a lot of good things to say so the transparency is refreshing. Please write more!

Jennifer Thomas said...

Jim,
I'm glad you're a fan of transparency! Opacity has its place - for example, I prefer opaque stockings (ie, "tights) in the winter to transparent pantyhose. The opacity provides warmth and a bit of conservatism, both of which are useful when I decide to wear a mini-skirt in colder temperatures. (Yes, I do still wear them at my age, but they have to be of a style befitting a grown woman rather than a clingy teenage concoction).

I WILL write more if you promise to visit my "blob" often!