I am officially starting to rewrite my journal from the beginning to get it ready for publishing. I’d like to know to share a few chapters as I go. I’d like to get you thoughts and feelings. Will it make a good book? Should I approach it differently? Any comments at all, are welcome.
The Dance Begins: November 7, 2009
That morning Del, my husband, found me rolled up in a tight ball with my eyes drowning in tears. I was in so much pain I was unable to answer his questions. This was the fourth pain attack I had within a couple of weeks. After the third, Del said he was taking me to the emergency room.
Angry because I failed to wake him, he grunted something like “Get pressed. We’erowing to the hospuddle.” I was in too much pain to get pressed. Fortunately I was wearing pajamas which pass for casual wear. Or was is casual wear which can pass for pajamas? Although I was up crying all night, I was quite certain there was no need to row to the hospuddle.
I must have looked as horrible as I felt for I was rushed through the emergency room which is something nearly unheard of. On a scale of 1 to 10, my pain rated 100. I was administered Morphine through IV. The Doctor was satisfied the dose was right when I asked him to pull the sock off my head.
The pain was centered just below my right breast. The Doctor,Gabriel Stanley, said I had upper abdominal swelling and all this time I thought it was fat! I started considering keeping my gall bladder so I could use it as an excuse. “Oh, no! I am not fat that’s just my gall bladder can I have more Morphine, please?”
From the description of my symptoms, it was believed I was having a classic gall bladder attack. I was admitted to the hospital to be prepared for emergency surgery. The vampires came and took gallons of blood. From past experience, I knew not to watch as they suck the blood out. I pass out every time I do. “Are the walls moving or is it my head, I mean bed?” Morphine clouds and smiles drift by.
Once the vampires were satisfied I had no more blood to give, it was off to a series of tests. It looked like I was in a capsule of some sort. I wasn’t sure if I would be shot into space or being turned into a suppository and shot up an elephant’s ass. Oh the joy of pain Morphine.
After spending a few hours taking various tests, I was wheeled up to my room. Del was somewhere nearby. He was talking to someone. The Morphine was too cloudy. I couldn’t tell who he was talking to. I was happy and snuggled down in my bed. I drifted off to sleep.
I heard noises. Where are they coming from? Smells. Animal smells. I walk around looking for something familiar. My foot sank deep into the black mud. I pull and pull. I can’t get loose! I slip. I fall on my ass. My foot is still stuck. I am covered in mud and it Stinks! What is making that noise? I look around, no…it isn’t possible..an elephant? An elephant? The capsule! No!
Suddenly it dawned on me. I was stuck and covered in elephant shit! I try and try to free myself. I cry out. I heard Del. Help me! Del!
I look up and see Del above me. “Honey, wake up, Honey?” He was saying. “The doctor is here. Are you awake?”
“Yes”, I said with relief. A dream, I think. It was only a dream.
I saw my doctor standing at the end of my bed. He had a look of concern on his face. All of the test results were in. My gall bladder was in great health. Puzzled, my surgeon began to ask more questions about my symptoms and family history. He asked if any kind of digestive disease run in the family and stuff like that.
The following morning, before discharging from the hospital, I was scheduled to have both an Upper GI Endoscopy, and a lower Colonoscopy. on Monday. Today was Friday. It was rare for Dr. Stanley to do both of these procedures at the same time, but in my case, he felt it was necessary. He explained that my symptoms, which included terrible heartburn and diarrhea, made him think I had more than one problem. He felt it best to check my entire digestive system.
I was sent home.