Pain.

On March 9, 2010, in Uncategorized, by Andrea

Yuck in a bottle.

I’m no stranger to pain.

No, really.

I’ve had two kids — and any woman will tell you — this is no walk in the park.  The guys that might be reading this?  Count your lucky stars that you’ve never had to deal with the concept of pushing a watermelon out of a lemon-sized hole once, much less twice.  Consider yourselves even luckier that there was a repeat performance of the act that got the watermelon there in the first place.  On top of this, there’s the monthly fun, and the yearly indignity that isn’t exactly comfort.  Trust me — these are things that bring up the idea of “ow” pretty quickly for most women.  So there’s that.

On top of this, I suffer from daily chronic headache (yes, that’s daily — not frequent but daily) and frequent migraine.  I also have had a cluster headache a spinal headache if those weren’t enough for my headache portfolio.  If you’ve never had a spinal headache over a weekend?  My suggestion is to just not.  Cause, well, no.

This wasn’t a discussion just to say “nah nah nah nah boo boo” on how much my life blows.  Cause while it can, and does at times, I try not to discuss it much of the time.  I could — but really, what’s the freaking point?  I have enough on my plate to deal with without adding this kind of crap to my day.  Talking about it only depresses me more, and I’d rather not do that anymore than I have to — thanks, but no thanks.

No, this was just to highlight the fact that when I say I woke up in severe gut-wrenching, tear-inducing “Call the ER because I have a knife in my stomach, GIVE ME THE FUCKING CARAFATE!” pain — well, I mean it.

I was having a dream — of what, I’m not really sure to be honest.  I know that I was dreaming.  And all of a sudden, I was dreaming that my stomach hurt.  Badly.  And then, well, I was awake.  And my stomach hurt.  So I get up to get some of the Carafate that I have on hand — which I have on hand because my pouch had been bothering me of late — but nothing THIS horrible.  More of a “acidish” type deal.  And I take a dose of it.  And I go back to bed.

5-minutes later?  It hits.

Now, I want to make a few things clear.

1) I see a bariatric gastroenterologist.  He specializes in RNY patients.  I saw him not 2 weeks ago when I told him I was getting a bit tender, but not anything horrible.  He wrote the script for carafate and script-strength prilosec to self-treat as needed and made an appointment for 6 months.  We didn’t think anything was bad.
2) He has no problem with me drinking coffee (of which I had not been drinking coffee of late, actually..)
3) I had not been a bad girl with my food or drink — no alcohol, no “no-no” things — nothing really to put me in the #BBGC except for being off the Christmas Card list for a certain group.

So with this said, this was out of the blue.  Yesterday’s food choices?  Protein latte (32g, baybee!), Campbell’s soup for lunch (how horrible!), some Dreamfield’s pasta w/ marinara and parmesan cheese for dinner, and then an Isopure Smoothie for “dessert” (liquid peach-flavored chalk!  Another 32g!)  And not a single narcotic for my headaches to sit in my pouch all day.  Certainly nothing to piss off my pouch.

So at 4am I’m on my kitchen floor, rocking to and fro, with tears running down my face.  The husband, who is now panicked beyond belief is trying his best to figure out what to do.  “ER?  Walk?  Sit up?  Lay down?  Go to the couch?  Off the hard floor?  Drink something?  Pain killer?”  So we try a pain killer.

And for the record — pain killers are good — EXCEPT when you have an apparent gaping hole in your pouch.  Because when it hit?  OMGIWANNADIEPLEASEKILLMENOWPLEASEOMGPLEASEOMGWHERESTHEKNIFETHATISSTABBINGME?!?!  I thought I was about to faint when it hit — and there was NO mistaking when it hit.  Cause I saw stars.  And I was inside.

So another dose of Carafate.  And 10 Tums.  Glass of milk.  A discussion of protein and why it’s so vital to me and the healing process?

Why I couldn’t go to the local ER (they have a love affair with Toradol — the last time this happened?  They pushed a dose on me despite being told NO adamantly several times.)

And by 6am I could get out of my fetal ball on the kitchen floor and walk around — just in time to see our daughter up.

Yay!

So now I have a call in to my Bari-GI to see him this afternoon.  Not that I really have the time.  And I already know what the answer will be — an endoscopy to see what’s going on.  Not that I have the time for that, either.  But he’s super protective of us RNYers of his — and there are worse things in life, I suppose.

Now why am I sharing all of this with you?  It isn’t as if I enjoy baring my entire life for all to scrutinize..

Ulcers are a way of life for RNY patients.  My first 3 (all at once, FTW!) were not my doing.  I got them, most likely, after unknowingly getting a shot of Toradol during my labor with having my son.  At the time, I didn’t know they gave NSAIDs for labor — and I didn’t know to ask.  I never had taken a single aspirin or advil — but still got ulcers.

And there are many post-ops that get ulcers that follow the rules — these are a way of life after RNY.  The intestine is not meant to be attached directly to the gut.  There is supposed to be a valve to keep acid from getting to the intestine.  We don’t have that anymore.  Carafate and prilosec, and nexium, and such are quite common.  I see posts from newbies asking how long people are on their PPIs after surgery — and I’m thinking “this time” cause inevitably they will be on them again in a few years.  And it seems like I’ll be on them for life because when I go off them I get ulcers — again.

So I share this just so you can prepare — just in case.

Now if you’ll excuse me?  I need to go drink my breakfast.  Cause there will be no food…