Living with Pancretitis: Beats the alternative…

So. You might have noticed that I haven’t been around here since last Sunday.

That’s because I’d just scheduled my post at We WriWa on Saturday when the worst pain I’ve ever felt grabbed me under the belly and bit down hard.

I just came home from the hospital yesterday.

My pancreas, for no discernable reason—seriously, they don’t know why—decided to dissolve itself with its own IV funenzymes and by the time this was determined, I was sustaining heavy renal damage.  The only treatment was to not feed me, while pumping me full of  gallons of fluids and antibiotics and calcium and drugs and, one assumes, liquid exhaustion.

Frankly, it’s difficult to sit up enough to type, or want to. I’m still having trouble eating—I’m lugging 24 pounds of fluid I didn’t have four days ago.  It saved my life, but it’s terribly uncomfortable now and there’s only so much I can do to get rid of it without ruining my electrolyte balance and going back to the ER.

I have bruises like blackened bananas up both arms from IV needles and blood draws and shots. I have a regimen of six huge horsepills a day.  Dude, we aren’t talking about the diarrhea; I can’t.

But I’m alive to be embarrassed and cranky and in pain. All my loved ones, more than I thought I had, stepped up to help save me.

I’ll take it and I’m grateful to be alive to do so.

I reserve the right to complain about hauling my  water weight to the bathroom every twenty minutes, though. I earned that.

Bruising

Advertisements

24 thoughts on “Living with Pancretitis: Beats the alternative…

  1. Your pancreas didn’t attack your wit. So I assume you will be back better than ever. Besides you have a lot of prayer on your side. Just by the way my book is out on Amazon, Joseph Beth, and Barnes and Noble online. Talk to you later about that–when all the internal attacks have ended.

  2. Good glory and blessings, Sarah. I can’t imagine, but I’m sending the best possible thoughts your way. ((hugs))

    Siobhan

  3. Sarah, so glad to hear you are on the mend, but so sorry you’ve had to endure this. Sending healing waves and virtual HobNobs across the pond. XO

  4. This is so damned scary, and here it is 6 weeks after this post and you are still in the hospital. I thinking about you and sending all of my good joo joo your way, Sarah. And lots of hugs.

  5. Don’t know if you check this much these days, but I wanted to wish a Merry Christmas to you and your family. Hoping that your health is improving and that your life will resume some normalcy soon. All the best in 2016.

  6. Oh, Sarah, please be well. Say hello if you can. Be back if you can. But please be well.
    [Prayers. Many many people praying.]

  7. Pingback: Random Thursday: Art to See, Tats for Me, and Toes that Squee | Earful of Cider

Talk to me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s