My day was over before it even started. Things have not been going so well with my stomach. The pain feels like someone is wringing out my intestines like a wet towel. I’m at the point where anything that goes down my throat can start up the pain. I’ve had to very carefully and slowly plan my fluid consumption–both IV and gatorade since the sudden appearance of fluid can agitate everything.
Last night’s dinner was some plain rolls from a pizzeria that R.J picked up for a party we were going to. I inspected the rolls for any grease/garlic/heavy butter to make sure I didn’t accidentally eat something lethal–but it all looked fine and bland enough so I ate it.
And I felt fine most of the night. I left early, came home, showered, rested and then woke up at 4AM like someone had just ripped me out of bed with a fishing hook in my gut. I fumbled my way into the bathroom so I could figure out my next move. I’d had to take pain killers the day before and I was only just now getting them fully out of my system. I decided to try adding 15mg more of desipramene and went back to bed.
Nothing. I woke up again at 6AM with the pain even worse than before. I hurled myself into the bathroom and swallowed a percocet. The twenty minutes or so that I was laying, curled in the fetal position on my bed felt like an eternity. Then the drugs kicked in and the pain was gone.
Consequently, so was any hope of me being conscious today.
I only just changed out of last night’s pajamas, showered and slipped into new sweatpants.
I’m seeing my GI’s PA tomorrow at noon. I’m hoping he’ll just tear me open in the exam room, pull out the 70 or so piranhas munching away at my insides and send me home with a bandaid and a tylenol.
Don’t ever let me hear you say I didn’t dream big.
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