Tuesday, February 14, 2012

THERE WILL BE BLOOD!


DISCLAIMER: 
This post will be a very long whine about sickness.


After my absolute horror, 10days post op I am back to blogging and delighted to tell you all my scars are very neat and healing amazingly. 
I had gallstones, yes it sounds minor and laughable but it really was one of the darkest periods of my life.  
I was feeling very low, sick and drained. 

My Doctor told me the pain is worse than a heart attack and a Nurse in A&E told me it is worse than childbirth... 
Yeah I went through that almost DAILY, for 6 months if not longer.
I AM HARD-CORE.

I was originally misdiagnosed with stomach flu in the U.K. 
I took ill when visiting my boyfriend for ten days. 
For the first 6 days I woke up at 5am without fail in absolute agony. 
I didn't know what was wrong but the pain was unbearable.
On the Saturday night while watching TV, I found myself writing on the floor in pain, begging for help.
 My boyfriend rang NHS direct to get a doctor to come check on me. 
After a long phone conversation, upon hearing I was unable to breathe and having crippling chest pains, The doctor told me he wanted me to get to hospital A.S.AP.
When I finally got to hospital the doctor we spoke to was off duty was gone. 
There was a pretty awful virus about at the time that had a few of my symptoms so I was misdiagnosed with that.
I was given a bottle of anti acid and sent home.
The embarrassment and paranoia I was being a drama queen whining about feeling ill is the reason I stayed away from my doctor when I got back home to Ireland. 
My mum on many occasions had asked me to go, but I was convinced it was a virus. 

The next time I visited my boyfriend, I got a whole lot sicker.
It goes like this... 
Before I flew over we both joke that if I end up in hospital again people will start to talk... 
The day before I leave, I take ill. I convinced myself I would be okay..
I spent most of the time at my boyfriends sick and in bed. 
I was at my wits end, I was so low I didn't know what to do.

5am Monday morning
-the day before I am due to fly home I am admitted to hospital. 

-Spent 10 hours on a trolley.
I had an ECG, Urine test, Blood tests, X-Ray, Ultrasound, 2 morphine drips, an array of pills, a drip of paracetamol, countless drips to try hydrate me.

-My blood pressure was consistently low, and my heart was erratic. Obviously this scared me.
 By 3.30 I was given a bed in a ward, seen by a surgeon, doctor, nurses and they were ALL FOR operating on me the very next day.

-By 7pm I had discharged myself in order to get the hell back to Ireland. 
I SHOULDDA STAYED TO MINAMIZE THE DRAMA!.


I decided to take random mainly I.V pictures with me phone ya know, pass the aul time



Tuesday

8 hours of travel home to Ireland, Planes and trains.

Wednesday
- Book an appointment with my G.P and was referred to a great surgeon.

Friday
- Admitted to Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital, Erratic heart, low blood pressure, agony, dehydrated.
They made me RE DO pretty much every test done in the UK despite me telling them 
WE KNEW WHAT WAS WRONG.

Sunday
- Discharged, I spent my entire time ON a trolley in A&E









Monday

-Met with said surgeon and was booked in for the following Monday. 

Wednesday morning

 -after an acute attack of pain my parents drove me in to my GP at 8am He gave me pain relief and really got the ball in motion helping me to get operated on as soon as physically possible. 

Thursday Morning
- I was in the Mater Private having a procedure done by a wonderful Professor.  

Friday Midday
-I was in the Operating theatres waiting room. 
By 1ish I was being operated on, and by 2.30 I was in the recovery room. 
I was there quite a while, But I was back in my hospital room by 5.  
My dad was waiting for me in the room, I was never so pleased to see his little face in all my life.
The time I spent in the recovery room was so scary and horrible, I really cant think about it right now so will not go in to it.

 The praise I have for my surgeon is endless, He operates twice a week in the particular hospital I was staying in and had the kindness to find a way to operate on me and end my pain, absolute gentleman. 

I really cannot emphasise just how grateful I am to have been in his care, judging by my recovery, the man is a genius and cares about minimising patients scarring using key hole surgery and using dissolvable stitches inside the incisions.
I’ve recovered great and I have even had two outings since- little ones but outings none the less. 

This blog has probably been horrifically boring...
So here’s a scarred tummy and scars for you to look at!








I’ve not as much as touched Bio Oil 
(I do have a bottle ready to start lashing on now as the wounds are healing over nicely.) 
I think that so far, I’m healing up pretty flipping wonderfully. 


WHY YES!
 those are my P.J's not a SUPER COOL leopard print two piece. 

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