Walking On Broken Glass

So, after a failed ablation surgery in April in an attempt to better manage my pain, it was very deflating. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had started feeling pain right below my rib cage for the better part of a week. By Wednesday, when Percocet and Soma didn’t knock me out I knew it was not to be ignored. I hate being right….

Wednesday afternoon I go to the ER with my Dad. One CT scan later changed the ball game. Ruptured Stomach Ulcer. I was being admitted and would most likely face surgery in the morning. So I spent Wednesday night with nothing but ice chips, an IV that would occasionally have antibiotics attached every 6 hours and morphine injections every 2.

Thursday morning the surgeon comes in and says the rupture is small and because it’s in an unusual place he’s hoping it will seal itself eliminating the need for surgery. He has X-rays ordered to see if there are air bubbles in my abdominal cavity which would indicate perforation is still oozing stomach acid into my abdominal cavity and onto the surfaces of other organs. X-rays show all is well so far. Ok, that’s good news, but no easy path. Another 24 hours of the constant change of IV bags and various medications with nothing but ice chips. And seeing that at this point my last snack was noon on Wednesday I was starving.

Friday – repeat this process with finally being blessed with a clear liquid diet – and as picky as I am meant that came down to Italian Ice, Jello, water and iced tea.

Saturday repeat. Except now upgraded to a full liquid diet which included the blandest oatmeal – blended down to baby food consistency – which was plain gross even to taste. Late Saturday night is met with the clear diet finally hitting the exit with a splash which sends the nurses into warning frenzy which will require further testing.

So here we are. Food has been upgraded to a regular menu and I enjoyed my first bagel this morning. Followed by some sleep that is very hard to get in any hospital. I walk the once bustling hallways to room after room empty. It’s Day 5 and I’ve had 3 different neighbors in the room next to me in 5 days and yet I’m still here…stuck – with no mention of a discharge date, and even when it does come, it will surely be followed by more daily prescriptions to add to my daily ritual. It’s depressing when even the dogs aren’t looking for you anymore.

So in a nutshell, my health continues to walk on broken glass.

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