I’m over it. I want to be able to write witty blog posts about the antics of my hilarious children. I want to complain about normal mom problems, like the Halloween Hangover (the struggle is real!) What I don’t want to be doing is writing yet another blog post about my ongoing health problems, and yet here I am.
It is easier for me to have a blog that people can read to keep up with my saga so I don’t have to explain it a thousand times. I love talking to people, I just don’t love always talking about my crappy health. And I know that the people who love me (and not to brag or anything, but there are a lot of you) are just worried and want to see how I am doing. I wish the answer was that I am great, but the truth is a lot more complicated.
Some things are great- my girls are four and a half now, and although they have their moments, in general I am loving this age. They are cute and funny and still think I am cool, but are old enough to entertain themselves sometimes. My husband is working hours that both of us hate, but there is never a moment I have any doubt that he is my perfect partner in this nutty life. Our new apartment is great, and we are loving a break from the stress of home ownership (no more lawn maintenance and when something breaks we just call the building to fix it!!)
Mommies In Need is growing beautifully and we just accepted our 17th family, and are about to celebrate our 2 year anniversary, and I am loving my new part-time job at my dad’s company (I get to talk to adults! And go to the bathroom by myself!)
And yet I was hospitalized this week… that’s not so great.
Since I wrote Just Keep Swimming, a lot has happened. My surgeon went ahead and cauterized all those bleeds, which seemed to be working…that is until I went to get my blood checked and found myself at a hemoglobin of 7 (which is almost to the point of needing a blood transfusion.) So we scheduled another scope (a colonoscopy for a person with no colon) and the surgeon found…nothing. Everything was healed and my j-pouch (fake colon made out of my small intestines) looked good.
That would be good news except my hematologist (blood doctor, I have a specialist for everything) said that kind of a drop could only be explained by bleeding. The problem then became figuring out where this mystery bleeding was coming from.
I went to my GI who had this theory about me having disappearing- reappearing ulcers in the scar tissue where they cut apart my small intestines to make my j-pouch. That made sense to me and I was all set to follow his plan that we watch my blood and go in and cauterize the ulcers whenever they come back and just hope that the tissue will regenerate over time (with a possible trip to a hyperbaric chamber to speed up that process.)
Then on Tuesday I started bleeding ****TMI Warning, if you are offended easily by bodily functions please stop reading now****
Now, a certain small amount of rectal bleeding is normal for me-once again, stop envying my glamorous life. But this was a whole different thing. After four or five trips to the bathroom with nothing but large amounts of blood, I texted my internist and asked at what point I needed to go to the ER. Her answer was, “NOW. Go Now.”
So I did. Luckily Mike was home and my mom could take me so off we went. After hours in the ER they decided that they needed to check me into the hospital overnight because if this type of bleeding kept up eventually I would need a transfusion.
Luckily, around 2 am I stopped having as much blood, but the on-call GI still decided to do another scope to see what was going on. The good news- my pouch looked fine again! No re-occurrence of the ulcers, everything was normal. He said the only thing he saw was some hemorrhoids.
Seriously?!! I was hospitalized for HEMORRHOIDS?!! I asked if it was even possible to loose that much blood from hemorrhoids and he said, “Oh, yeah. I had a guy almost die because one was attached to a blood vessel.” Not helpful dude.
Now I am planning all my follow up appointments to deal with my hemorrhoids from hell and waiting to see if my surgeon thinks he can fix them.
So if you ask me how I’m doing, these days I will probably just respond, “Hanging In There,” or “Well, I’m Here.” But if I’m really in a mood I might say something like, “Bleeding out of my ass, how about you?”
If I do, please forgive my rudeness, I’m just really fucking tired.