Last week I was admitted to the hospital. Rectal bleeding for about a month. It's a thing. I had already talked to my doctor- really, even getting to a doctor is kind of a big deal for me. At this point in my medical life, I should be as close to normal as I could be. I had my colon removed, for crying out loud! When I went to the GI, I told him my symptoms and he wanted to do a scope. The thought of a scope with all the pain I've been having caused a lot of anxiety. He scheduled me for the next available appointment- two weeks out!
I tried. For a week, I tried to keep it together. I ate low fiber at first. No change. I ate clear liquids (basically jello, broth, and apple sauce) and still no change. I tried to move my appointment up a week and still nothing from the doctor. I called the advice nurse (brilliant move on my part) who advised me to go straight to the ER- do not pass go, do not collect $200! Straight to the ER.
I always say, compared to colitis, this is not really a big deal. I'm not light headed, I don't feel like I've lost a lot of blood. Could it really be ER worthy?
After sitting in the ER for three hours, they finally got me a room. With in minutes they had my IV hooked up and were sending morphine direct to my blood stream. Ahhhh sweet relief.
That night was kind of a blur. We did an MRI and then waited for the scope the next day.
The nurse overlooked the "prep" that I knew was looming. I opened my big, fat mouth and asked if I would have to do an enema, as I knew I would. Of course they called for an enema! Years of UC have trained me for these tests. It's second nature.
As I started my dreaded enema, while in the pain I was in, knowing it would not be comfortable, I began to feel a horrible burning. I ran to the toilet, IV pole trailing close behind, and could barely stand it. For the first time ever, I pulled the emergency line next to the toilet. When a voice came over the intercom, I just bellowed, "I need help!"
Every person on my team came running in, the nurse was last with a syringe of morphine, finding me hunched over on the commode. She asked if she could help me to the bed but I couldn't move. She plunged the fluids into my IV and I sat until I could wipe the tears from my face. I slowly moved to the bed.
She called off the rest of the enemas for the day.
When I finally saw the doctor who was to preform the scope, it was already approaching 3pm. I-85 was shut down the night before while we were in the ER and my GI was stuck in street traffic dealing with the freeway closure. I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since yesterday at midnight. I turned-on my side in a small room full of the scope team (is that a thing- because there was a whole team in there), ready for my scope, they put me to sleep.
The test should only be about five to ten minutes. By the time I woke up, it felt like it could have been a hour. They sent me back to my room with pictures from the test. I had never seen anything like it.
We speculated but the doctor was quick to follow with possible explanations. Either we have a sever case of pouchitis (inflammation of my j-pouch) that is leading to fistulas (holes), or we have Crohn's disease.
I got to see a couple friendly faces. My old surgeon came around to check on me. When he poked his giant head in my hospital room door, it was like seeing an old friend. I was relieved when he said I'd have a long way to go to before requiring surgery again.
I'm home now after spending four days in the hospital. We still don't have the test results back yet. I'm taking medication as though it's pouchitis- antibiotics and pain medication. But everyone seems to be concerned that is it actually Crohn's disease.
Today we wait. Tomorrow we hope for answers.