Friday, July 17, 2009

So Are the Days of Our Lives

“The human body is a mystery”. I’ve always heard that. Just thought it was metaphorical at best, but whoever first said that is absolutely right! I have been going through two years of off and on pain that is somewhat of a mystery to every single doctor I have been to.

It didn’t start off so horribly, but as time has passed, the pain seems to get progressively worse with each episode.

I was convinced something was wrong with my left ovary. After having taken many Aleve for several days in a row, and on the last day 9 Aleve in one day I decided to go to my OBGYN and demand she do a laparoscopy. There was something wrong and I wanted it to be fixed. She agreed there was definitely something amiss and scheduled the procedure for a week later. I was so looking forward to the procedure. Not so much a fan of surgeries, but I was really relishing in the idea of not having any more pain after she found the endometriosis, or cyst, or tumor, or whatever it was and took it OUT. When I woke up from the anesthesia, I looked over at my loving husband and eagerly asked, “So, how’d it go?” and he, much to my disappointment told me everything was great and that they did not find anything. GREAT? How was that good news, I wondered. I told him they needed to go back in and find something because they obviously missed it! The nurse thought that was funny, but I was not seeing the humor in it! Obviously I was happy that nothing was wrong and that I was “healthy”, but I did not get the explanation that I was eagerly awaiting.

My next step was going to see a Gastroenterologist. This was it, I just knew it. I had something wrong with my intestinal tract, or something that I was eating was causing my insides to cringe in pain. He listened to all my symptoms, rattled off a few things it could possibly be (Chron’s Disease, Diverticulitis, Cancer, etc) and I was again hopeful that we would get to the bottom of it. Again, the procedure was scheduled pretty quickly and a week later I was drinking some HORRIBLE, make you want to slap your momma, liquid and having a colonoscopy done. Not something you think you’ll have done at 28, but I was again excited about finally getting some answers. The crazy thing about this procedure is that evidently they do not put you all the way under, like when you have surgery. They just put you under enough so that you’ll fall asleep and won’t feel any discomfort. Apparently that did not work as expected and I woke up in the middle of the procedure yelling “Ow, that hurts! Ow, you’re hurting me!” All that and they say I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). That did not come as a shock to me, as I have thought I had this for many years now, but I was hoping for something more. The pain I have been experiencing is not the typical severe stomach ache that I get with eating a Bloomin’ Onion at Outback Steakhouse, this is a wakes you up in the middle of the night and you’re on the floor crying type of pain. Still, I thought, okay, at least I got some kind of answer.

Not long after the colonoscopy I was again plagued by several days of unbearable pain. This time I made an appointment with my family doctor and she sat with Larry and me for about 45 minutes discussing all my symptoms and our possibilities. She, too, thought it was not the IBS that was causing the debilitating pain. When Larry asked what she thought it might be, she offered ovarian cancer, endometriosis and ovarian cysts as possible causes and scheduled two CT scans four days later. I was eager to get the scans done and again, hopeful that this would FINALLY show everything and that we would finally understand why I hurt so much, so frequently. I was also eager to rule out ovarian cancer as my grandmother had this and was taken from us at the young age of 67 because of it. To my surprise, the doctor called with the results that very afternoon and told me that the scans showed “multiple cysts on my right ovary”. But my pain is on the LEFT side!!! This cannot be right! And now all of the sudden she too thinks it must be the IBS.

We, and I say “we” because my poor husband is up with me rubbing my back each time I wake up in the middle of the night, are about at our wits-end with this. We desperately want an answer and in the mean time, all I can do is continue to carry around my bottle of 100-count Aleve and hope that a major diet change helps (no coke or caffeine, no fried foods, no fat, and no dairy).

We continue to be thankful for all of our blessings, friends and family and take each day one at a time knowing that one day we will get to the bottom of it all.