(photo clearly doesn't depict our medical emergencies, but does show the fun time we were having prior to it all beginning.)
July 2, what started as the beginning of a good day, progressed horribly. I woke up at the beach, all of the kids and some of our friends were there. We were going to enjoy one last full day on the ocean shore and by the pool. Around 10:00am, though, things got bad. I was so nauseous, my body hurt so badly, I was freezing cold, huddled under a blanket that we joked just the night before would keep an Eskimo warm. My son offered to go find me some Pepto Bismol and Gatorade. It didn't work. I hated to have to be the ending point of our fun day, but there was no way I could endure heat and kids, conversation, much less putting on a smile. Home we went.
My husband thought I must've picked up a bug or gotten food poisoning. After all, we had been eating out for every meal, my body isn't used to that. I wanted to go to the hospital. He offered to take the kids to his parents, so I could rest. Hours went by, no relief from the vomiting or the pain was in sight. It felt like labor pain. If you've never experienced labor pain, it felt like knives in my belly and body aches from constant vomiting. I'm sure there's a better description for labor pain, but this was my experience. I had to go to the hospital. Now.
After getting checked in to the ER, and getting much appreciated medication to stop the vomiting and pain, I was wheeled off to Radiation, for a CT scan. And then whisked away for an ultrasound. (No babies, y'all! That factory is closed.) The culprit of all of my anguish? Ovarian cysts.
When the doctor came in to tell me what had been giving me all the trouble, he was cautiously optimistic, that it was an isolated issue and these things happen. "Ovarian cysts are common," he said.
So, I get home and crawl into bed. After all, I needed to let all of that pain medication wear off, and I prayed for no more vomiting. I was beginning to feel better. Until July 4th.
Y'all, on July 3rd, I felt semi-back-to-normal. And then, on July 4th, it came back with a vengeance. Back to the ER I went. Again, they gave me pain medicine via IV, something to stop the vomiting, and told me it was ovarian cysts. However, this time they added to my diagnosis, and I was told I also have fibroids. I was told to go home and make an appointment with my GYN, because the ER isn't equipped to help me. #soconfused
I prayed that THIS TIME I would go home, crawl into bed, wake up the next morning, and the pain all be gone. Well, it didn't happen that way. I rolled around, writhing in pain for the next two days. Even if I wanted to make an appointment for the GYN, I was too terribly sick to do so.
Can you even believe I can keep going? On July 6th, I went BACK to the ER. Same thing, pain meds, anti-nausea medication, ovarian cysts, make an appointment with the GYN. Maybe they gave me enough pain medication to last me, maybe my REAL ailment calmed down enough for me to deal with what was ahead. Because, on July 6th, after I got home from the ER for myself, I had to take McKinley.
To be continued...
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