My Day

Ugh. I feel terrible. Even though I'm not eating that much, I'm not losing any weight—bright side, not gaining either.

My symptoms:

• Severe pain under right ribs, pain feels like burning, boring, searing, stabbing, pain is constant—also have burning pain across mid-stomach and back, feeling like something is on fire, inflamed, and swollen particularly after eating;

• Bitter taste in mouth;

• Numb hands, around lips, and tip of tongue, also so some numbness in my feet;

• Inability to eat spicy food, fatty food causes symptoms but not like spicy food;

• Fatigued;

• Nauseated;

• Diarrhea alternating with constipation;

• Rapid heart rate in the evenings after going to bed (been up to 115 bpm);

• Low blood pressure (sometimes like 92/65);

• Sick of feeling this way.

That's what I'm living with on pretty much a daily basis.

I Asked Him to Make a Noise

I was looking through a scrapbook and an album of photos of Al. It's been almost four years since he died. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering "us." It seems like it was someone else's life, not mine. I look for signs that maybe he's still with me--somehow. I ask him to make a noise or something, but nothing ever happens.

When I first sat down at the computer, it felt like someone touched my leg. But there was no one there. I asked for it to happen again--it didn't. My imagination the first time?

I'm not sure what happens when we die. Is there more than this? One thing for sure, we'll all know one day.

I'm still sick and feeling kind of flu-ish. I hope I can make it to the surgery, and I don't end up in the ER. I've been working on it. It bothers me most to eat spicy food. I can almost get away with a little fat. I will be so happy to be able get my life back together. I've tried so hard, but when you're sick lots of things don't go the way you'd planned.

I'm going to practice a little piano and then go to bed.

The Answer

I went to see a new doctor about my ailments. He told me my illness is "screaming gall bladder," and he suspects that my pancreas may be infected, too. He said that my pancreas is likely an innocence bystander—in other words, he doesn't think there's anything wrong with it other than the bile backup that's going on. And it might be infected now. So I have an appointment with a surgeon on October 9. I hope I can make it that long.

I took a muscle relaxer last night, and that seemed to help. Anyway I feel like things are better controlled this morning. 

So I don't have a lot to say. 

Pain, Pain Go Away

I've been on steroids since last week. It helped the pain for a little while, but now it's coming back. For the past two days, the pain and bloat have been coming back pretty steadily. Last night, I had another attack. Today, I feel bloated despite all the medications—or maybe it's because of all the medications. It's also the last day of antibiotics. I'm afraid "it" will come back in full force as soon as I stop. I wish I knew what was wrong with me. And I hate constantly talking about being sick. 

I'm still going to the gym at least two days per week. I want to make it back to five days—but I just don't have the energy. Tomorrow I'll be on my own. My trainer has some kind of freshman "thing" to do for the next couple of weeks. I'll miss her, but when you're getting something for free, you can't really complain. 

I don't eat that much anymore, but I'm not losing any weight either. I need the exercise to get in shape. I know it. 

I started piano lessons again. It's much more relaxing this time around. I have a couple of hours after work to go home and take a break before heading to class. Last time, it was almost straight from work and made a long day. I was usually so tired I just wanted class to be over. I like piano. It takes all of your focus power and keeps you from thinking about anything other than the next note. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy it.

Inflammation Is Making Me Weight (y)

My health has become a source of regular disappointment for me. I have one day where I feel better followed by four where I don't know why I thought I was improving. I spent today crying. The boring, searing pain is still there. Although an inflammation that was throughout my body has greatly improved--the searing pain has not. It still feels like something is trying to bore its way from just under my ribs to out of my back. Gee, what if there really were some kind of Star Trek alien-like creature. . .well, maybe not.

I have my suspicions, but people immediately poo poo me. I don't think it's a creature with its own conscious. Just the one body part that has the capability of digesting itself. No, not the stomach. It's the one that alcoholics have problems with--no, not the liver. But it's in the neighborhood.

I think I have some kind of chronic pancreatitis. "Oh, poo poo," say some of my friends. "It's your gall bladder." I don't think so. This is not a colicky, crampy feeling. This is a burning, boring, searing feeling--like something is trying to digest itself. And it's working at it pretty hard.

Things that puzzle me are that the antibiotics helped some kind of overall inflammation that I was dealing with. My joints ached all over. I could barely walk. It took all my strength to pull myself up from a chair--it was painful. My hips and knees were especially sore and tender. Once I sat down, getting back up was an event--struggling, pulling myself up by whatever steady object I could get hold of. . .be it fixture, man, or beast. The dogs actually earned their keep a couple of times--most of the time I just used a chair. Now with the aid of antibiotics, however, I can stand without much assistance. I can once again go up and down stairs.

My shoulders, elbows, and wrists feel better. So does my back. Yet, my right side under my ribs still feels like a burrowing beast is making itself a home. What gives?

And the inflammation was causing so much water gain that I thought I was going to burst. That has begun to clear up. But what do I do when the antibiotics are taken away and everything returns?

Uh, Excuse Me

I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm feeling better. The third antibiotic seems to be taking care of the pneumonia and pleurisy. I just hope it's enough. But I will conquer this damn thing. I've been through so much with this. It's like, "This will only take about a minute and cost about $1,000." And then I still wasn't "cured." 

I've been invaded through almost every orifice, had things cut out of me, and taken about 15 different medications. All for naught. But I do feel better today. I think things started turning around over the weekend. I will get better—I am better.

I'm getting my energy back up to get to the gym, too. And I'm going to a spinning class tomorrow. I will get better. I am going to the gym four days this week—not "going to try to make it" but "I am going to the gym four days this week."

OK. So I brought a bottle of bathroom cleaner to the gym this morning and sprayed the shower out before I used it. I'm not going to get sick again. For the first time ever, in all of the times I've used gym showers, I felt clean when I was finished. Over the top? I don't think so. I've had pneumonia and pleurisy for almost a year. Not gonna do it again.

I saved the best for last: during this morning's workout with a trainer present mind you, while in mid sit up, I farted. While I know this happens to everybody, it's nonetheless mortifying when it does happen. I said, "Excuse me." What else could I say? She was perfectly cool about it and said, "Oh you're fine." And then went on. I on the other hand was ready to die. And just as it happened, my piano teacher's husband walked by. It's the sit ups I'm telling you. The damn sit ups.