Kinda
tired, but not bad; this is normal. Today, I arrive a bit late to
church, missed morning worship, but in time for announcements and the
main service. Good. I need to meet with Melissa for high school Sunday
school planning.
Sitting
in the second to front row, I lean forward to get my Bible out of my
backpack. Leaning back in my seat, my back starts hurting.
Uncomfortable, I attempt slouching in my seat. That doesn't feel too
good. I try sitting straight, no good either. Within a minute's time,
my pain worsens; it's no longer focused on my back... my whole right
side hurts. My muscles start spasming. I get nauseous. There's no way
I can stay for Sunday service like this. I want to go home.
Greeting
a couple people around me, I tell Melissa I can't make the meeting
today. Grabbing my stuff, I blindly stumble my way out the sanctuary.
Focusing directly ahead, I shuffle my way towards my car. Why did I
being my laptop today? It's so heavy!
On
my way out, I think I greet a couple people... I can't remember
anymore. I need to throw up. I can't throw up. I won't let myself
make a scene! Can I drive home like this? I really want to be at
home.
Gingerly, I sit
myself in my car. Panting from the pain, I lean back to assess myself.
Every movement hurts; however, the main question is if I can focus
enough to safely drive home. Yes, I can drive. I may not be able to
make it all the way home without throwing up, but I can always pull over
and decide what to do then. Pain, that I can deal with; me and
physical discomforts go way back.
Leaving
the church parking lot, every bump in the road, every move to work the
clutch, brake, gas... Even shifting the gears hurts. Grasping tightly
at the steering wheel, my fingers turn white. My shoulders are rigid
with tension. Sweat beads my brow. Focus. Look at the cars in front.
Assess the movements of the cars behind and to my side. Ignore my
body.
Separating my mind
from my body's sensation, I continuously scan my surroundings. I'm
still lucid. I'm still focused. I'm not wavering. Home. Home.
Home. All I can think about is getting home and crawling in misery into
bed.
Exit after exit pass
by. I've still got 25 more minutes before reaching home. 20 minutes.
18 minutes. The crossover from 880 to 680 brings me to a halt.
Traffic. The stop and go jars my body. Waves of pain hammer at me.
Focus. I'm still driving. See the cars, the people, the environment
around me. I wanna throw up. In my backpack, I have a container I had
planned on returning. Reaching to my right, I attempt to grab my
backpack. Bad idea. Nausea overtakes my senses. For a second, my
sight wavers. Focus. Reset myself. Forget the container. If I throw
up, I'll clean it later.
Almost
home. I'm getting tired; tired of fighting, tired of ignoring
sensations pounding against my consciousness. 3 more traffic lights to
go and I'll be home. Green. Yellow. Red. I stop. Bile runs up my
throat, I force the acidic mass back down. Another light, another
stop. Last light, usually green, turns red. I stop again. I'm
miserable. My hands are starting to shake.
Finally
home, I drag myself out of the car. Tossing my laptop and backpack in a
pile, I shuffle, back hunched, to let the cats out of their room.
Gently, I crawl under the covers. Shuddering in distress, I writhe in
bed, attempting to find a more comfortable position. There is none.
Running to the restroom, I throw up once, twice, three times. Gross, I
think I got stuff up into my nose.
At
home for the past hour-and-a-half, nothing is working. No matter what I
do, how I move, what I take, the pain continues to climb. I don't
think I've ever experienced physical pain to this extent. Fighting
nonstop, no relief. Is this even a muscle spasm anymore? It's not
stopping. Pain, that I deal with on a daily basis... but this level of
constant and increasing agony is on a whole different level.
I
stare at my phone. Should I call 911? I'm used to getting muscle
spasm, but I'd also get rest periods in between. Now? Unending torture
with no glimmer of reprieve in sight. Something inside my abdomen
twists even tighter. I can't process or plan anymore. It's
embarrassing, but I can't drive myself to the hospital. An ambulance
can provide intravenous pain medicine faster than waiting in the
emergency lobby. Hesitating, I unlock my phone. Sweat beads my upper
lip and my brow. In fact, my whole body is damp. My muscles shake with
fatigue. Why can't I just pass out?
In
a daze, huddled and shaking, I actually dial 911. In spurts, I tell
the operator my address. The ambulance is coming. Holding the walls, I
grab a sweatshirt... By the time i get out, it'll probably be cold.
Cats? Andy will help take care of them. Funny, even in this
pain-induced fog, I can still think enough to plan for the basics.
Phone
grasped tightly in one hand, house keys in another, I unlock the front
door. Listlessly, I fold myself into a ball on the bottom steps and
wait. I think the fire department arrives first, 3 men. My eyes are
closed, fist knotted tight. Once the ambulance comes, I feel hands
supporting my arms as I stumble to the gurney.
Bump
after bump, I clench my fist and clamp my jaw against the pain. No
relief. I keep getting asked questions but I'm starting to not
understand if my answers are correct. My mental processing is down.
Almost there. Just as we arrive, I finally get 2mg of morphine.
Lightheaded, I feel the pain recede. I allow my muscles to relax,
taking my first deep breath in hours. My head lists to the side as I
lay drowsy from the meds. Finally, I can relax. Narcotics are amazing.
Dosing
in a room, I wait for the rest of my pain to go away. Refusing more
meds (I want full control of my own body), I wait another 4 hours before
all remenants of discomfort disappear. In and out of consciousness, I
drift between blank emptiness and hearing screams of pain from someone
nearby. The sounds of a person vomiting make my own stomach churn.
Blinking slowly, I idly watch the seconds roll by; and again, my eyes
close as my mind wanders.
Now, I'm only sore when the doctors poke my abdomen.
Six
plus hours pass before my brain finally starts to clear. Testing
myself, I poke and prod my abdomen. Tender, but not painful. Good.
Standing up, I quickly lay back down. The movement made me dizzy with
bile rising up my throat. Wrapping myself back in my covers, I huddle
until the symptoms go away. Now, I wait to get the CT scan. After
that? My best guess is that I'll get to go home. I still have to work
tomorrow morning... I volunteered... Gotta keep my word.
Father
God, thank you that my CT scan is negative for any visible issues.
Thank you for providing friends to take care of the cats, wash my dishes
and even picking me up late at night. Thank you that the pain is gone.
I feel alive again and ready to work!
Help
me sleep well tonight and wake up early for work. Give me the energy
and strength to serve. Bless me with wisdom in how I talk and what I
do. Provide for my schedule so that I don't overwork this annoyingly
weak body. Steady my body so that I don't cramp up so badly
again...going to the hospital really sucks! Give me joy, peace, comfort
and hope in your spirit. Be the light of my life.
By the name of Jesus Christ I pray, amen.
Monday, May 25, 2014
Yay!!! Half day of work completed sucessfully with only my usual fatigue and discomforts. Hurray!!! God is amazing!
Thank
you, Lord, for giving me your spirit so that difficulties don't pin me
down. Thank you for allowing me to continue living and actively
serving!
May the power and
blessings of Christ be with you! Thank you for always supporting me and
walking with me as I go through my ups and downs. I'm only where you
see me now because I have all your support and the love of Christ... I
know that I am never alone.
Let's keep fighting together! =D
Daniel's graduation!
