2012 was the worst year I have ever had in regards to my health. Other than being over weight (BMI charts had me officially in the, "obese," category) and a history of Crohn's disease (controlled with a one-medication treatment plan), I was doing alright. The changes that happen to our bodies with age were becoming more obvious. The pounds don't come off as easily as they used to, and they seem to collect in different places. You wake up and there are little pops and pains that usually go away by that first cup of coffee. Although I realized I was not as young as I used to be, not as thin as I wanted to be, and not as health conscious as I should have been, I just kept living my life the way it was convenient for me. Then, by the end of April, I knew there was something not quite right. Right upper quadrant pain, nausea, bloated/full feeling after meals, decreased appetite, no fever: I had diagnosed myself with gall stones. I spent 10 years working in OB/GYN offices. I know the gall bladder has nothing to do with gynecology, but after explaining to patients where all of their body parts actually are in their bodies, I learned a lot. The frustrating part was when I was told my diagnosis was incorrect. My diagnosis was confirmed incorrect by a CT scan, an abdominal ultrasound, an MRI, and a PET scan. They do not do all these test to see what is wrong with your gall bladder. They do all these tests when they cannot identify the masses on your liver. The symptoms that brought me to the doc in the first place now took a back seat to the mystery liver tumors that showed up on every scan. Focal nodular hyperplasia (benign condition)? Sarcoid tumors (not a good thing)? Hepatic cancer (worst option)? One liver biopsy and one HIDA scan later (I was amazed there was a scan I still had not had), they determined the gall bladder was not working the way it should and the biopsied areas were not malignant. I was thinking, "Whew! Thank you, God. Let's get the gall bladder out, and I will be back to normal." My lazy gall bladder came out, but I would soon discover that, "normal," was still far away.
A biopsy of the biggest mass (about 8 cm) was done during the laparascopic gall bladder removal. My surgeon said it was a hepatic adenoma. Benign tumor, but it should come out. Sent back to my gastroenterologist who said it was a hepatic adenoma. Benign tumor, but it should come out. Referred to one of the best hepatic surgeons at IU Hospital. Hepatic adenomas, benign tumors, they should come out, and it just involves an open surgery (I have a 9" vertical incision), two days in ICU, another 3-5 days in the hospital, and 50% of your liver removed. Recovery at home would be about 4-6 weeks. I was fucking speechless. I also had no idea that it was going to take this much work to get rid of benign tumors. Tumors that were not effecting my liver function. Weird clumps of abnormal tissue tucked into normal, healthy liver tissue. The recommendation for their removal comes from the facts that a small percentage of adenomas do make a malignant change, and a larger percentage of them spontaneously rupture the larger they get. So, surgery was scheduled for the first part of September. I spent my four hours in surgery, two days in ICU, four days on the postoperative floor, and another six weeks at home in pain, depressed, frustrated, fatigued, constipated, narcotically medicated, and questioning if we should have just ignored those adenomas in the first place. Healthy liver tissue grows back, so I was told my new "baby liver" would regrow and take the place of the part removed. Then, I actually started feeling better.
Within two weeks of thinking I was nearing normal again, I knew there was something wrong. Another CT scan showed a canteloupe size collection of fluid in my abdomen. It was diagnosed as a bileloma when they drained 800 mls of bile out of it. Within a week, I was filling back up. Another CT scan (yes, I am nearly as radioactive as The Firm) showed fluid collecting again. My first postsurgical drain was inserted. It is as fun and sexy as it sounds: a flexible tube is coming out from my skin to allow bodily fluids to drain. That drain stayed in for three weeks. The fluid amount was decreasing, so they removed it. I felt good for about five days, and then I could tell the fluid was collecting again by my shortness of breath and upper abdominal pressre. Drain number two was placed. They pulled that one after two weeks because I started having muscle spasms at the insertion site. Ever throw out your back? Just the slightest movement makes you grit you teeth and want to cry? That's what it felt like while a tube was shoved through that muscle. Drain number two was removed; not because it was done with its job but because of the pain.
I have been drain-free for six days now. I have to say the last five days are the best I have felt in months. I keep waiting to get that feeling...the one that tells me that I have not finished healing. The one that makes me know it is time to call the doctor and let them know I don't feel right again. The one that makes me frustrated and weak and disappointed because I do not know how I will feel from day to day. God willing that feeling will not come back again. When you are going through a really shitty time in your life, if you can say, "At least I have my health," know that definitely is a gift. I am going to get through this shitty time and get back to my normal.
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