So, today I get to go BACK in and be seen by the colon-rectal surgeons.
Because things have become "not quite right" over the past 3 days.
I'll be taking wagers now. What do you think the issue is?
1. Fistula, requiring an actual surgery in an actual OR tomorrow, or
2. Mystery problem, possibly a second abscess developing.
More later, I'm sure. We just can't do without a little drama around here every 3 weeks or so, it seems!
Update:
I will spare you all the long, boring details, since we did so much of that last time. Long story short: I am not near death. Should I happen to actually be developing a fistula, we won't know that for a month or two at the earliest. As of right now it looks like my abscess healed too fast (as it sometimes happens in "young, very healthy people" says the Dr. Thanks Doc. I'll take it.), and it wasn't quite done...emptying...so it basically re-formed and then emptied on its own, as there was already an incision site as a weak point.
Man I feel sick just writing this all. Such gross stuff we are possible of in our bodies, huh? Sigh. This is about as far from classy as I can get.
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Monday, October 14, 2013
My anus / rectum / all things rear-end involved:
Be warned, this post contains somewhat personal information. As I am not an overly guarded person, I don't mind sharing my life this way, but if YOU are squeamish about personal sharing, or the correct anatomical terms for body parts, then you might want to take a pass on this entry.
Ah, dear friends. Sorry about the post title, but really...how often do you get to use the word anus? Probably not very often. Rather, not often enough!! ;) I think it's a little silly to be offended with words like anus, just as much as "butt" or "ass." Relax. It'll be okay. They are just words. :)
(1st side note: I can't stand it when people make up pet names for body parts because they are embarrassed about them, or they were raised to never talk about them, etc. A body part is a body part! It is not inherently good or bad. It deserves to just be named (scientifically), without grimacing/giggling/blushing, and then move on with life in a collected manner. I cam very firmly to this conclusion as a teacher, although I think my parents were somewhat this way as well, if my memory serves right. As a parent I am even more so. Finn knows that his penis is a penis. Layla knows the word vagina. We will never use pet names for these body parts, or hopefully any body part. It's weird to do so, I think. If the fact that I wrote these words makes you squeam, then YOU are one of the people I am talking about!! ;) Don't raise your kids to be embarrassed about their body parts before they even have one single reason, right? Right.)
So.
This has been a very difficult week for me. I was in pretty much constant pain for 6 days straight. Today is Monday, October 14th, and it's the first day I have had relief from this pain in a week. Relief is so WONDERFUL.
Last Monday I started having pain, both internal and external, in/around/near my anus.
This is not the sort of thing that "polite" society talks about, I know, but I've been questioning the wisdom of that this week. Why not? If I had horrible headaches for week I'd have felt free to ask for any and all tips on Facebook, right? So why not my anus? Clearly, it's social tabu, but I think for the wrong reasons. However, I'm not exactly trying to fix all social wrongs through FB, so I left that one alone, but if/when people that I knew asked me what was wrong through the week, I told the truth. I didn't fudge the truth. I didn't try to evade the question. For some reason, this became important to me. Probably some part of me still felt embarrassed by the whole thing, deep down, even though my brain held other thoughts to be true...so I was trying to sort of preach to myself in a way. Who knows? That's just how it went. However, I did try to give people an "out": if they asked me what was wrong I would usually say it was something that was wrong with my ass, and if they wanted to know more I'd be happy to share, but I realize that most people are uncomfortable with that region of the body. Most people did not take me up on knowing more, which I was totally fine with, but some did...and I was fine with sharing medical facts. :) I did intentionally use the word "ass" or "butt" with other people because I know that the word "anus," though CORRECT, makes many adults squirm. So, even though "ass" is a more crass, non-scientific cop-out, I did use that word. Out of love. Not everyone can adjust to a life of scientific accuracy in a day, even grown, college-educated adults. ;)
So, what was wrong with me? GET ON WITH THE STORY ALREADY, right?
Two issues:
1. Internal anal fissures.
2. An external abscess in my upper butt crack. I'm not sure what the scientific term is for upper butt crack, but if I knew I'd use it.
I had a regularly scheduled appointment with my OB/GYN already for Thursday afternoon, so I thought I'd just muscle out my pain (which wasn't really "severe" until Wednesday) until then. I didn't KNOW those were my issues, though, or I certainly would have gone in sooner. I believe in doctors and modern medicine!!
(2nd side note: You've heard my modern medicine speech, right? It seems to be a big trend these days to be "anti modern medicine." The general gist seems to be this: "The old ways are always better, the more we learn the more we try to play God, anything not found in nature is bad for your body, etc." This argument seems to come strongly from two camps: extreeeeeem conservative Christians, and the extremely "crunchy/hippy/granola" types (which sometimes/often overlap). Correction: that is where *I* have heard it coming from most loudly, in the form of my personal life experience and media exposure.
I don't disagree with part of their argument. I think there is a LOT of good and truth to be found in "some" older medicine practices, uses of herbs, oils, etc. I reject very much the idea that modern medicine is bad, run only by money, out to get you addicted to meds, etc. There are some very awful, totally un-scientific things that were done in the past, as medicine, that I am SO glad we don't do anymore! We know BETTER now! Yay for science! Yay for research, progress, and learning! Also, I think there are a lot of very great things that older health practices still continue to teach us--no need to throw the baby entirely out with the bath water, right? But that takes time. Time to look at both, research, and evaluate. Most people just want to be in one camp or the other, and surround themselves with like thinkers. Why can't we do both?? :( Why can't we learn fro the past and grow into the future?? We can, obviously, but that can sometimes be an isolating and lonely place to be. Moderation is rarely celebrated, right? Middle-ground is seen as being wishy-washy and not really picking a side. Sigh.
The reason I have my two children is due to modern medicine. When everything was done naturally I had two children that died. When modern medicine got involved, I had two children who lived. There is no natural herb out there that could have diagnosed my very rare blood clotting disorders and held them in check, in very precise and delicate ways, during my two full-term pregnancies. I am SO THANKFUL for modern medicine.
At the same time, I do think that modern medicine is often mistaken for true health care. Most people go to doctors when they have a problem, NOT regularly, in order to truly take care of their bodies. Therefore, doctors specialize in problems--and boy do they do it well! I'm so thankful for their expertise! However, I think there is for SURE a place at the table for nutritionists, holistic medicine practitioners, chiropractors, essential oils use, etc, etc.
I choose BOTH. :) Both are good, both have things they are good for and NOT good for. You just have to be smart, and spend a little bit of time being informed. The end.)
Back to my story. My OB/GYN calmed my fears that I had hemorrhoids. I did not, thank God. Having watched Jonas deal with that nightmare for years and years, before he got his life-changing surgery (again, thank you modern medicine...), I was rather petrified that I had somehow been "blessed," by marriage, with the poor curse of the Schaefer men. :( This makes absolutely no sense, of course, but I was 4 days in pain at this point, and seeing no end in sight. My OB/GYN, rather, diagnosed anal fissures. He wasn't 100% certain, being an OB, not a colo-rectal surgeon, but he said he was 90% certain without the use of a scope. For that, there was really nothing for me to do but rest and take lots of hot baths. He said they normally resolve themselves on their own, without any need of medical intervention, and gave me some good thoughts on how they can maybe be prevented in the future. Very helpful. I was still in pain, but at least I had a bit of hope.
He then noted the abscess. At this point, his training may have failed him a little (well, he likely did the best he could, he is just not a colo-rectal surgeon, trained to see these things all the time/diagnose them), because he said it looked like a blocked sweat gland, or an enlarged pimple. At that point, the abscess was painful but not killer, so I told him I could handle that pain--I was frankly more concerned about an internal tear that just had to heal on its own! They said that after a week of rest and baths, if things weren't better, I should maybe go in and be seen again. Okay. So, I had some direction at this point. That is helpful for sure.
I went home, barely able to drive through my tears of pain, and basically collapsed into a ball on my bed. I pretty much didn't move for 3 days. The pain was excruciating. My hips began to become sore from the number of hours I was laying on my sides each day--my stomach and back were too painful. Jonas stayed home from work on Friday to take care of the kids, so I could be still. I took 5 baths a day, at minimum, every day.
As time went on I began to feel that my internal pain really was becoming less and less, but sometimes this was hard to notice because the external pain was so awful! That was clearly getting worse and worse. After an awful night on Friday night, where I likely woke up 10 times from pain, I decided that I might need Jonas to take me to the ER on Saturday. However, Saturday I started feeling okay. If I was reeeeeeeeeeally still, things seemed to settle down. I could breathe slightly normal again. So, I decided to tough it out...maybe I would really turn around by Sunday!
Alas, Saturday night was not so kind to me. I realized my healing was mostly internal, which was great, but not to be outmatched by the increasing external pain. It was completely and utterly taking over my life. I could do NOTHING all day long. Someone else had to take care of my kids all day. This was not going to work for any sort of life, so I told Jonas we needed to go to the ER early on Sunday morning.
My mom, bless her, came over to watch our kids rather than going to church, and we headed out to the ER...me with the seat fully reclined, balanced on my side, wincing at each and every bump/turn in the road.
(3rd side note: One thing I love about where we live is our close proximity to so many great hospitals. There are specialists for every disease/problem under the sun, and if that's not enough for you, you could make the "long" 1.5 hour drive south to Rochester, MN, where the Mayo clinic is located (and where my lovely sister-in-law Andrea is training to become a nurse anesthetist)--world leaders and amazingly rich people from all over the world fly to MN for their medical care. What I also love is how MN takes care of the non-rich among us. We really do have pretty darn good health care and education in this state, but I am especially thankful to MN for helping us out when Jonas was unemployed and I was pregnant, high-risk, with Finn. My $1,500 a month shots and our hospital bill were totally covered, after we applied for help, because mothers and babies are such high priority here. I know the same is true for maternal and fetal health nation wide, too, but I will always be grateful to the State of MN for taking care of my family, me, and the health of my little boy when we really needed it most. They didn't restrict where I could be seen, ever, or who my Dr. could be, and I got the BEST medical care I could have hoped for. They allowed me to drive 18 miles to St. Louis Park, MN, because that is where I wanted to be cared for in a specialty clinic. One result of that generosity was my healthy pregnancy and safe delivery of Finn. Color me grateful. Bravo, MNCare. Bravo. The end.)
When we were caretakers at the apartment building I knew that I could have a croupy child at an ER in literally 5 minutes. FIVE. When a child is struggling to breathe, that is so huge to the relief of a mother's heart. At that living situation we were near 4 hospitals...none more than a mile from where we lived! However, they are all also located in downtown St. Paul. When we take a child there at 3:00 a.m., especially when I would take them to a children's specialty hospital, the lines were usually not long. But I knew that any hospital located in the downtown area usually has longer ER waits for adults, paying for parking, etc., so this time we headed out to a hospital we had never been to: St. John's in Maplewood. Now, we actually live very close to Maplewood...just blocks away, really. I had completely forgotten that this hospital was there because very little in my life is located in Maplewood, other than Costco (thank you, Holly!). :) The other week Jonas and I made note of it as we were driving to a restaurant because it really seems to be the closest one to our house, so that is where we headed Sunday morning. Also, I have a friend who works in the ER in Regions Hospital in downtown St. Paul, and I just didn't want to present her with my anus on a lovely Fall Sunday morning. ;)
St. John's Hospital was such a pleasant surprise. Everything and everyone there was beyond nice, helpful, thoughtful, and good at their jobs. I LOVE that. However, I have this thing about hospitals...I end up crying a good portion of the time I'm there, usually. It's lame. Don't get me wrong...I have no fear of hospitals. In fact, they are very reassuring and comforting to me. It's just that normally when I'm there I'm either giving birth, and all hormonal before and after, or I'm getting a D&C and beyond hormonal and sad. So, yeah. Hospitals tend to make me cry. This time was no exception. At the reception desk, when the nice lady asked what was wrong, I just broke down into tears. 6 days of pain wore me down, man. I was DONE. I had some hope that they could just lance the sucker and send me home a new woman, but I was also fearful that they would say I needed to see a specialist, take hours for the appointment, maybe send me home to come back the next day, etc. I could NOT wait any longer for help. Clearly I had waiter too long to go in.
(4th side note: Yes. I know. I am making this story, which could be very quick, into a long, drawn-out saga. I have no idea why. I just feel like writing today. Normally I stay AWAY from this type of writing on my blog, as it is not why it was created, but I'm just going with it for today. Eh.)
The triage nurse was very sweet and thoughtful.
The first doctor who saw me did a great job of getting lots of notes and patient history, was very reassuring to me, etc. He was VERY concerned that I cried the whole time. I think he thought it meant that I was in absolute, extreme pain. Everything was very painful, but maybe not as bad as I looked from the outside. He kept wanting to give me some sort of pain meds. Especially morphine. :) Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am rarely, if ever, one to say no to pain meds. Do you have pain? Is there a medication that can stop it? Great! That is my general philosophy for things like menstrual cramps, which can't be avoided for those of us so unfortunate to get them. However, this was a totally different situation for me. I didn't want them to give me anything to make me feel better until I knew what their action plan was. I didn't want morphine, feel good for a few hours, and then be sent home to suffer again while I waited for an appointment tomorrow, you know? No sir. No pain meds until they told me the PLAN.
After looking at me he said I had an abscess and that it would likely need to be lanced. However, not being in that specialty, he wasn't sure if it was safe for him to do quickly in the ER, or if I needed a specialist to do it in an OR. So, he called the colon-rectal surgeon to get her opinion...and she JUST so happened to be on her way to the hospital to round as they were talking. Thank you Jesus. She also agreed to stop and see me before doing her rounds. Again, thank you Jesus.
Dr. Jensen was, also, very sweet...and she didn't mind listening to my story through constant tears. I wasn't sounding like I was crying in my voice, but those tears just kept rolling down my cheeks all day. :( After taking a look she agreed that it was something she could take care of right there, quickly, in 10 minutes or less. And she agreed that it looked bad. And painful. Bless her for validating my ER visit.
The procedure itself was very simple: She shot me up with some lidocaine (a common local anesthetic that hurts like the MOTHER when entering your body) and then two cuts to open up the abscess (removing some skin to keep it open), pressure to fully drain it, and done.
But let's go back to that lidocaine shot for a moment. Holy CRAP. You know, when I was 9 I had a mole removed from my back that was suspected of being cancerous. It was huge and deep. Before they could remove it they gave me 7 shots of lidocaine. I was immediately brought back there with this ONE shot...it feels like someone stuck a burning hot needle under your skin, and then is threading it through your skin, muscle, and tissue in a horrible, burning pattern. It is awful. Those 7 shots in my back were bad, but this one in my butt/rear-end/ass (not sure if "anus" applies here because it wasn't near my actual anus...) had me almost hear hyperventilating. I squeezed the heck out of J's hand and barely held myself together. Yeah, not my proudest moment.
Another thing I am beginning to realize about myself is that I must have an incredibly low pain tolerance. Seriously. Layla's 36 hour childbirth about killed me. The only thing that saved me was my epidural. (again: God BLESS modern medicine. Clearly I would have died young in pioneer times).
After that it was smooth sailing. Dr. Jensen said there was a lot of pus in the abscess, and she said it clearly would have been painful and needed to be professionally taken care of. When I asked her WHY I got it, she just shrugged and said "really bad luck. It happens sometimes." There was nothing I could have done to prevent it, and nothing I can do to prevent them in the future. So, I guess I'm glad I didn't do something wrong, but not so thrilled (now that I've experienced one) that they can happen again at any time, for no good reason. Stupid fallen world. :(
Dr. Jensen also mentioned, before the surgery, that the abscess would take up to 2 weeks, maybe more, to heal. It would continue to slowly drain during that time, possibly. (*silent throw-up from Lisa*) Also, there is a 1/3 chance that I can develop a fistula because of the abscess. A FISTULA!!!! The only kind of fistula I knew about was the kind women in 3rd world countries develop when they endure traumatic childbirths in poor medical conditions with no good medical follow-up and care. Those sound horrific. I guess fistula is also a generic medical term that basically means "when two things become connected," or something like that. (I'm writing this from my memory of her talk to me, not from Google...) Sooooo, there is a chance that this abscess and my rectum could somehow become connected again, through the decision of my body, and if that happened I would need to have legit surgery. Gah. So, fingers crossed that I am NOT in that 1/3 camp in future days. :(
Dr. #1 came back in as I was preparing to leave and, again, really wanted me to take a prescription for some Oxycodone with me. :) Bless him. I agreed, even though I didn't think I'd really need it. Now that the reason for the pain was gone, how bad could the pain be??
Well, there was actually still some pain. So I was glad for the prescription the first night of real healing. BUT I think I only took 2 of the 20 pills he gave me. Haha! JACKPOT! I am so saving those up. Love it.
Walking out of the hospital was pretty funny. EVERYONE stopped what they were doing to wish me well and say goodbye to me: nurses, janitors, security people, front desk people. Evidently my tears really made a mark. ;) Drama Queen, right? Sheesh. :)
So, that's been the last week of my life. Sigh.
I'm sorry to say I have no cute pictures, videos, or stories of the kids to post...because I've barely seen them for a week. Jonas has been a Saint in helping out so much, and my family has pitched in some too. It takes a good village, people! Grateful for my village all the time.
Seriously, though. I feel like the kids look SO much bigger today. They seem older, smarter, funnier, cuter. I am a little sad I missed the last week of life! The last week of Fall! It was so pretty here the entire time I was flat in bed, and now that I'm getting better it's drab and rainy.
BUT. I am getting better. And I am so grateful. :) Phew. Let me say again: I do not handle pain well.
End of my saga on my anus, rectum, and everything else involved in that region.
El Fin.
Ah, dear friends. Sorry about the post title, but really...how often do you get to use the word anus? Probably not very often. Rather, not often enough!! ;) I think it's a little silly to be offended with words like anus, just as much as "butt" or "ass." Relax. It'll be okay. They are just words. :)
(1st side note: I can't stand it when people make up pet names for body parts because they are embarrassed about them, or they were raised to never talk about them, etc. A body part is a body part! It is not inherently good or bad. It deserves to just be named (scientifically), without grimacing/giggling/blushing, and then move on with life in a collected manner. I cam very firmly to this conclusion as a teacher, although I think my parents were somewhat this way as well, if my memory serves right. As a parent I am even more so. Finn knows that his penis is a penis. Layla knows the word vagina. We will never use pet names for these body parts, or hopefully any body part. It's weird to do so, I think. If the fact that I wrote these words makes you squeam, then YOU are one of the people I am talking about!! ;) Don't raise your kids to be embarrassed about their body parts before they even have one single reason, right? Right.)
So.
This has been a very difficult week for me. I was in pretty much constant pain for 6 days straight. Today is Monday, October 14th, and it's the first day I have had relief from this pain in a week. Relief is so WONDERFUL.
Last Monday I started having pain, both internal and external, in/around/near my anus.
This is not the sort of thing that "polite" society talks about, I know, but I've been questioning the wisdom of that this week. Why not? If I had horrible headaches for week I'd have felt free to ask for any and all tips on Facebook, right? So why not my anus? Clearly, it's social tabu, but I think for the wrong reasons. However, I'm not exactly trying to fix all social wrongs through FB, so I left that one alone, but if/when people that I knew asked me what was wrong through the week, I told the truth. I didn't fudge the truth. I didn't try to evade the question. For some reason, this became important to me. Probably some part of me still felt embarrassed by the whole thing, deep down, even though my brain held other thoughts to be true...so I was trying to sort of preach to myself in a way. Who knows? That's just how it went. However, I did try to give people an "out": if they asked me what was wrong I would usually say it was something that was wrong with my ass, and if they wanted to know more I'd be happy to share, but I realize that most people are uncomfortable with that region of the body. Most people did not take me up on knowing more, which I was totally fine with, but some did...and I was fine with sharing medical facts. :) I did intentionally use the word "ass" or "butt" with other people because I know that the word "anus," though CORRECT, makes many adults squirm. So, even though "ass" is a more crass, non-scientific cop-out, I did use that word. Out of love. Not everyone can adjust to a life of scientific accuracy in a day, even grown, college-educated adults. ;)
So, what was wrong with me? GET ON WITH THE STORY ALREADY, right?
Two issues:
1. Internal anal fissures.
2. An external abscess in my upper butt crack. I'm not sure what the scientific term is for upper butt crack, but if I knew I'd use it.
I had a regularly scheduled appointment with my OB/GYN already for Thursday afternoon, so I thought I'd just muscle out my pain (which wasn't really "severe" until Wednesday) until then. I didn't KNOW those were my issues, though, or I certainly would have gone in sooner. I believe in doctors and modern medicine!!
(2nd side note: You've heard my modern medicine speech, right? It seems to be a big trend these days to be "anti modern medicine." The general gist seems to be this: "The old ways are always better, the more we learn the more we try to play God, anything not found in nature is bad for your body, etc." This argument seems to come strongly from two camps: extreeeeeem conservative Christians, and the extremely "crunchy/hippy/granola" types (which sometimes/often overlap). Correction: that is where *I* have heard it coming from most loudly, in the form of my personal life experience and media exposure.
I don't disagree with part of their argument. I think there is a LOT of good and truth to be found in "some" older medicine practices, uses of herbs, oils, etc. I reject very much the idea that modern medicine is bad, run only by money, out to get you addicted to meds, etc. There are some very awful, totally un-scientific things that were done in the past, as medicine, that I am SO glad we don't do anymore! We know BETTER now! Yay for science! Yay for research, progress, and learning! Also, I think there are a lot of very great things that older health practices still continue to teach us--no need to throw the baby entirely out with the bath water, right? But that takes time. Time to look at both, research, and evaluate. Most people just want to be in one camp or the other, and surround themselves with like thinkers. Why can't we do both?? :( Why can't we learn fro the past and grow into the future?? We can, obviously, but that can sometimes be an isolating and lonely place to be. Moderation is rarely celebrated, right? Middle-ground is seen as being wishy-washy and not really picking a side. Sigh.
The reason I have my two children is due to modern medicine. When everything was done naturally I had two children that died. When modern medicine got involved, I had two children who lived. There is no natural herb out there that could have diagnosed my very rare blood clotting disorders and held them in check, in very precise and delicate ways, during my two full-term pregnancies. I am SO THANKFUL for modern medicine.
At the same time, I do think that modern medicine is often mistaken for true health care. Most people go to doctors when they have a problem, NOT regularly, in order to truly take care of their bodies. Therefore, doctors specialize in problems--and boy do they do it well! I'm so thankful for their expertise! However, I think there is for SURE a place at the table for nutritionists, holistic medicine practitioners, chiropractors, essential oils use, etc, etc.
I choose BOTH. :) Both are good, both have things they are good for and NOT good for. You just have to be smart, and spend a little bit of time being informed. The end.)
Back to my story. My OB/GYN calmed my fears that I had hemorrhoids. I did not, thank God. Having watched Jonas deal with that nightmare for years and years, before he got his life-changing surgery (again, thank you modern medicine...), I was rather petrified that I had somehow been "blessed," by marriage, with the poor curse of the Schaefer men. :( This makes absolutely no sense, of course, but I was 4 days in pain at this point, and seeing no end in sight. My OB/GYN, rather, diagnosed anal fissures. He wasn't 100% certain, being an OB, not a colo-rectal surgeon, but he said he was 90% certain without the use of a scope. For that, there was really nothing for me to do but rest and take lots of hot baths. He said they normally resolve themselves on their own, without any need of medical intervention, and gave me some good thoughts on how they can maybe be prevented in the future. Very helpful. I was still in pain, but at least I had a bit of hope.
He then noted the abscess. At this point, his training may have failed him a little (well, he likely did the best he could, he is just not a colo-rectal surgeon, trained to see these things all the time/diagnose them), because he said it looked like a blocked sweat gland, or an enlarged pimple. At that point, the abscess was painful but not killer, so I told him I could handle that pain--I was frankly more concerned about an internal tear that just had to heal on its own! They said that after a week of rest and baths, if things weren't better, I should maybe go in and be seen again. Okay. So, I had some direction at this point. That is helpful for sure.
I went home, barely able to drive through my tears of pain, and basically collapsed into a ball on my bed. I pretty much didn't move for 3 days. The pain was excruciating. My hips began to become sore from the number of hours I was laying on my sides each day--my stomach and back were too painful. Jonas stayed home from work on Friday to take care of the kids, so I could be still. I took 5 baths a day, at minimum, every day.
As time went on I began to feel that my internal pain really was becoming less and less, but sometimes this was hard to notice because the external pain was so awful! That was clearly getting worse and worse. After an awful night on Friday night, where I likely woke up 10 times from pain, I decided that I might need Jonas to take me to the ER on Saturday. However, Saturday I started feeling okay. If I was reeeeeeeeeeally still, things seemed to settle down. I could breathe slightly normal again. So, I decided to tough it out...maybe I would really turn around by Sunday!
Alas, Saturday night was not so kind to me. I realized my healing was mostly internal, which was great, but not to be outmatched by the increasing external pain. It was completely and utterly taking over my life. I could do NOTHING all day long. Someone else had to take care of my kids all day. This was not going to work for any sort of life, so I told Jonas we needed to go to the ER early on Sunday morning.
My mom, bless her, came over to watch our kids rather than going to church, and we headed out to the ER...me with the seat fully reclined, balanced on my side, wincing at each and every bump/turn in the road.
(3rd side note: One thing I love about where we live is our close proximity to so many great hospitals. There are specialists for every disease/problem under the sun, and if that's not enough for you, you could make the "long" 1.5 hour drive south to Rochester, MN, where the Mayo clinic is located (and where my lovely sister-in-law Andrea is training to become a nurse anesthetist)--world leaders and amazingly rich people from all over the world fly to MN for their medical care. What I also love is how MN takes care of the non-rich among us. We really do have pretty darn good health care and education in this state, but I am especially thankful to MN for helping us out when Jonas was unemployed and I was pregnant, high-risk, with Finn. My $1,500 a month shots and our hospital bill were totally covered, after we applied for help, because mothers and babies are such high priority here. I know the same is true for maternal and fetal health nation wide, too, but I will always be grateful to the State of MN for taking care of my family, me, and the health of my little boy when we really needed it most. They didn't restrict where I could be seen, ever, or who my Dr. could be, and I got the BEST medical care I could have hoped for. They allowed me to drive 18 miles to St. Louis Park, MN, because that is where I wanted to be cared for in a specialty clinic. One result of that generosity was my healthy pregnancy and safe delivery of Finn. Color me grateful. Bravo, MNCare. Bravo. The end.)
When we were caretakers at the apartment building I knew that I could have a croupy child at an ER in literally 5 minutes. FIVE. When a child is struggling to breathe, that is so huge to the relief of a mother's heart. At that living situation we were near 4 hospitals...none more than a mile from where we lived! However, they are all also located in downtown St. Paul. When we take a child there at 3:00 a.m., especially when I would take them to a children's specialty hospital, the lines were usually not long. But I knew that any hospital located in the downtown area usually has longer ER waits for adults, paying for parking, etc., so this time we headed out to a hospital we had never been to: St. John's in Maplewood. Now, we actually live very close to Maplewood...just blocks away, really. I had completely forgotten that this hospital was there because very little in my life is located in Maplewood, other than Costco (thank you, Holly!). :) The other week Jonas and I made note of it as we were driving to a restaurant because it really seems to be the closest one to our house, so that is where we headed Sunday morning. Also, I have a friend who works in the ER in Regions Hospital in downtown St. Paul, and I just didn't want to present her with my anus on a lovely Fall Sunday morning. ;)
St. John's Hospital was such a pleasant surprise. Everything and everyone there was beyond nice, helpful, thoughtful, and good at their jobs. I LOVE that. However, I have this thing about hospitals...I end up crying a good portion of the time I'm there, usually. It's lame. Don't get me wrong...I have no fear of hospitals. In fact, they are very reassuring and comforting to me. It's just that normally when I'm there I'm either giving birth, and all hormonal before and after, or I'm getting a D&C and beyond hormonal and sad. So, yeah. Hospitals tend to make me cry. This time was no exception. At the reception desk, when the nice lady asked what was wrong, I just broke down into tears. 6 days of pain wore me down, man. I was DONE. I had some hope that they could just lance the sucker and send me home a new woman, but I was also fearful that they would say I needed to see a specialist, take hours for the appointment, maybe send me home to come back the next day, etc. I could NOT wait any longer for help. Clearly I had waiter too long to go in.
(4th side note: Yes. I know. I am making this story, which could be very quick, into a long, drawn-out saga. I have no idea why. I just feel like writing today. Normally I stay AWAY from this type of writing on my blog, as it is not why it was created, but I'm just going with it for today. Eh.)
The triage nurse was very sweet and thoughtful.
The first doctor who saw me did a great job of getting lots of notes and patient history, was very reassuring to me, etc. He was VERY concerned that I cried the whole time. I think he thought it meant that I was in absolute, extreme pain. Everything was very painful, but maybe not as bad as I looked from the outside. He kept wanting to give me some sort of pain meds. Especially morphine. :) Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am rarely, if ever, one to say no to pain meds. Do you have pain? Is there a medication that can stop it? Great! That is my general philosophy for things like menstrual cramps, which can't be avoided for those of us so unfortunate to get them. However, this was a totally different situation for me. I didn't want them to give me anything to make me feel better until I knew what their action plan was. I didn't want morphine, feel good for a few hours, and then be sent home to suffer again while I waited for an appointment tomorrow, you know? No sir. No pain meds until they told me the PLAN.
After looking at me he said I had an abscess and that it would likely need to be lanced. However, not being in that specialty, he wasn't sure if it was safe for him to do quickly in the ER, or if I needed a specialist to do it in an OR. So, he called the colon-rectal surgeon to get her opinion...and she JUST so happened to be on her way to the hospital to round as they were talking. Thank you Jesus. She also agreed to stop and see me before doing her rounds. Again, thank you Jesus.
Dr. Jensen was, also, very sweet...and she didn't mind listening to my story through constant tears. I wasn't sounding like I was crying in my voice, but those tears just kept rolling down my cheeks all day. :( After taking a look she agreed that it was something she could take care of right there, quickly, in 10 minutes or less. And she agreed that it looked bad. And painful. Bless her for validating my ER visit.
The procedure itself was very simple: She shot me up with some lidocaine (a common local anesthetic that hurts like the MOTHER when entering your body) and then two cuts to open up the abscess (removing some skin to keep it open), pressure to fully drain it, and done.
But let's go back to that lidocaine shot for a moment. Holy CRAP. You know, when I was 9 I had a mole removed from my back that was suspected of being cancerous. It was huge and deep. Before they could remove it they gave me 7 shots of lidocaine. I was immediately brought back there with this ONE shot...it feels like someone stuck a burning hot needle under your skin, and then is threading it through your skin, muscle, and tissue in a horrible, burning pattern. It is awful. Those 7 shots in my back were bad, but this one in my butt/rear-end/ass (not sure if "anus" applies here because it wasn't near my actual anus...) had me almost hear hyperventilating. I squeezed the heck out of J's hand and barely held myself together. Yeah, not my proudest moment.
Another thing I am beginning to realize about myself is that I must have an incredibly low pain tolerance. Seriously. Layla's 36 hour childbirth about killed me. The only thing that saved me was my epidural. (again: God BLESS modern medicine. Clearly I would have died young in pioneer times).
After that it was smooth sailing. Dr. Jensen said there was a lot of pus in the abscess, and she said it clearly would have been painful and needed to be professionally taken care of. When I asked her WHY I got it, she just shrugged and said "really bad luck. It happens sometimes." There was nothing I could have done to prevent it, and nothing I can do to prevent them in the future. So, I guess I'm glad I didn't do something wrong, but not so thrilled (now that I've experienced one) that they can happen again at any time, for no good reason. Stupid fallen world. :(
Dr. Jensen also mentioned, before the surgery, that the abscess would take up to 2 weeks, maybe more, to heal. It would continue to slowly drain during that time, possibly. (*silent throw-up from Lisa*) Also, there is a 1/3 chance that I can develop a fistula because of the abscess. A FISTULA!!!! The only kind of fistula I knew about was the kind women in 3rd world countries develop when they endure traumatic childbirths in poor medical conditions with no good medical follow-up and care. Those sound horrific. I guess fistula is also a generic medical term that basically means "when two things become connected," or something like that. (I'm writing this from my memory of her talk to me, not from Google...) Sooooo, there is a chance that this abscess and my rectum could somehow become connected again, through the decision of my body, and if that happened I would need to have legit surgery. Gah. So, fingers crossed that I am NOT in that 1/3 camp in future days. :(
Dr. #1 came back in as I was preparing to leave and, again, really wanted me to take a prescription for some Oxycodone with me. :) Bless him. I agreed, even though I didn't think I'd really need it. Now that the reason for the pain was gone, how bad could the pain be??
Well, there was actually still some pain. So I was glad for the prescription the first night of real healing. BUT I think I only took 2 of the 20 pills he gave me. Haha! JACKPOT! I am so saving those up. Love it.
Walking out of the hospital was pretty funny. EVERYONE stopped what they were doing to wish me well and say goodbye to me: nurses, janitors, security people, front desk people. Evidently my tears really made a mark. ;) Drama Queen, right? Sheesh. :)
So, that's been the last week of my life. Sigh.
I'm sorry to say I have no cute pictures, videos, or stories of the kids to post...because I've barely seen them for a week. Jonas has been a Saint in helping out so much, and my family has pitched in some too. It takes a good village, people! Grateful for my village all the time.
Seriously, though. I feel like the kids look SO much bigger today. They seem older, smarter, funnier, cuter. I am a little sad I missed the last week of life! The last week of Fall! It was so pretty here the entire time I was flat in bed, and now that I'm getting better it's drab and rainy.
BUT. I am getting better. And I am so grateful. :) Phew. Let me say again: I do not handle pain well.
End of my saga on my anus, rectum, and everything else involved in that region.
El Fin.
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