As I sit here tonight- feeling miserable- yes miserable- a feeling one is allowed to have when one is actually going through life being one had awful news time and again- I have to wonder how I got here.
I thought maybe if I tried very hard and took the correct medication and followed the doctor’s orders just right that nothing else would be handed to me (and us - meaning my John and my Olivia) in a small windowless emergency room that barely had a television or a properly working telephone.
It’s the sort of news that comes to someone in pieces because it’s such weird and unusual health related news. When one gets the news we got, it’s almost as if all other news given to us was pointless.
Like just recently I had a long conversation with someone I used to consider kind and someone I could count on- no matter our differences. After I received the news I got, that conversation seemed - well... pointless and unnecessary and even ridiculous.
We even got a letter recently that said we were so close to paying off a loan - a loan we took out a year and a half ago. That letter we were waiting for? The one that could possibly make or break a score of credit? That letter seemed - all of the sudden - comical and again; pointless....
You see...
It started out so subtly. At first a small, but rather sharp and unexpected pain on my right side.
The next day, a little bit more pain and a lot less subtle. This day, this time, it was if the new pain was saying, “Hey. I’m here. I’m not gonna go away.”
By day three, the pain was starting to interrupt my very short - but very needed- sleep time. Ya see, my small fiber neuropathy already disturbs my sleep. And by day three of this brand new unexpected and uninvited pain guest, I was starting to vocalize my concern.
First to my husband, then to my mom...
And then all of the sudden, the pain just stopped.
You’d think that was it. And that was gonna be the end of all of this...
But, we’re talking about me.
Me.
The only sibling (5 of us) with a multitude of health issues. The only family member whose life has been subjected to a lifetime of disability payments. Payments that I earned, mind you... but I never thought that at my age I would be a shut in with pain that would make me cry.
This past Wednesday, I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t find comfort. Not on our very new and very expensive king size plush mattress. No comfort found on our brand new sofa. Sitting in a chair brought no relief.
By the time John awoke to get ready for his day, I told him to dial 911. The pain on my right side - lower, middle, and upper abdominal pain that radiated to the back - again; all right sided. The pain was so intense and so bad that 911 seemed the only logical thing to do.
Was it my appendix?
Gallbladder?
Did I have stomach ulcers?
Well, during the what seemed like a 10 hour ambulance ride to the hospital (and I swear the driver hit every single pot hole he could) the EMT I was stuck with kept asking me the same questions over and over again. Is your appendix still in? Is your gallbladder still in? Have you ever been told you have ulcers?
By the time we got to the hospital, I was finally given something rather strong for the horrible pain that had me cursing and crying...
then, all the tests started.
First, a barrage of questions. Drinking? Drugs? Pregnant?
Blood tests, ultrasound, CT scan....
Then, a nurse came in to ask me if I could perhaps give a urine sample. I tried (with assistance) to get up and walk the 10 steps to the restroom. I immediately cried out in pain. Those 10 steps weren’t happening. They brought in a portable toilet for me to go in.
After that, the nurse had gotten some results all at once on her computer screen. We had yet to see the actual ordering doctor. I mean, we had seen one, just not the one who was ordering all the tests...
Knowing better, but desperately seeking answers anyway, I asked the nurse to tell us anything- ANYTHING...
The words I heard were
‘very enlarged liver’
‘a team of surgeons on their way’
‘liver biopsy’
‘spending several days here’
John would later tell me that I lost all color in my face, grabbed his hand and said “I need Olivia.”
He said I also asked for my mom.
Then the doctors came in. The tests have all confirmed what I was about to say. They just couldn’t believe what was happening. They seldom come across people who never drink and people who never do illegal drugs. They just met one on Thursday though.
My liver was so enlarged, and we could see the images of it- it was actually crushing a few organs. One of my kidneys is being bent in half, my liver is also hitting the diaphragm so abruptly and abrasively, that every time I take a sharp or deep breath, it’s so incredibly painful. I also had one of those upper GI’s done. That test showed several stomach ulcers.
Since the liver is still a fully functioning and operational liver - meaning- the only problem is that it’s just really big hitting organs and that any jolts to my person / body may make it hit vital organs- so I have to practice an abundance of caution, they say I don’t have a diseased liver. Just a HUGE liver. All tests prove it.
So, they think maybe some autoimmune attack happened to make my liver so large.
That’s where some of my pain was coming from. I am to have CT scans done every 3 months to monitor the growing or lack of growing (hopefully) of my liver. If the surgeon sees it approaching things that may kill me, they said they would operate. If I start to have severe trouble breathing, they will go in and operate.
As far as the ulcers are concerned; just some prescribed medication to help with that... taken around meal schedules and what not...
So there you have it.
A huge liver.
No fun in getting it that way. Just another shitty playing card in our already shitty hand of dealt cards.....
If I seem like I am miserable at times; I have every right to be... walk a minute; hell, walk a fucking second in my shitty ill healthed life and let me know how you feel...
Maybe you can find a magical chiropractor to fix ya...
But I doubt it.
