I am currently flat on my back in the hospital fighting the pain. I felt so down and alone just now. I felt that I was starting to sink in a mire of depression. I felt a chasm of emptiness started to grip my heart. I stopped myself and told myself, 'Evelyn, you are not going there. You will fight this and you will win this. You went through the surgery and came out alive and you will go through this phase and come out even more alive!' And so I started writing. On my smartphone! To keep my sanity. To let out all my fears and frustrations and depression. To keep me alive in my mind.
This is my second round of staying in the hospital since being discharged on Saturday late afternoon. Hubby had to rush me to the ER at 4am last night as my bladder had failed to function after the surgery. More on that later.
Last Sunday was the day that caused a series of chain events which snowballed into a very challenging and frightening time of my life.
Somehow on Sunday, my usual pooping session had caused a ruptured blood vessel in my anus. And it became a blood clot. Which led to the inner part of the anus being protruded out on the outer part of the anus. I had thought it was piles as I have had piles ever since when Joel was 4 months in my womb almost 9 years ago. I have been living with piles for a long time now.
But on Monday morning, the pain in my anus was so bad that I was actually glad that Joel was sick and unable to go to school as I had no idea to how I was going to drive. Even my movements were restricted. The stabbing pain was so intense that I felt feverish from the pain. So thinking that it was piles, I tried pushing the bulbous blob back in.
Hey, it worked! For a second. And then the pain came crashing back. In waves multiplied by ten.
I needed a professional doctor. Someone who knew what he was doing and to how to handle me with my medical condition (as I had such a strong prompting in my heart that I definitely required surgery).
I messaged my ENT and he told me to see a colorectal surgeon and to see his colleague.
Friday. I made the appointment to see him on Friday. And I fasted in preparation.
He took just one look at my butt and straightaway told me that I needed immediate surgery. There was no way around it as it was already the 5th day and no, the pain and swelling did not subside. What I had been suffering from was called 'Perianal Thrombosis.'
My mind was in chaos. The surgeon was worried as I was a high risk patient. The procedure is so minor and simple. But because of my condition, the simple procedure became complicated. The surgeon too said that he needed another doctor to look after me as he is totally not trained to look after people like me. He isn't capable of looking after me as he will not know of what is best for me in the event I go into an anaphylaxis attack. Thus, my ENT (who specializes in allergy) who had been seeing me since my anaphylaxis came into the picture too.
I needed painkillers. That is certain.
But how??? I definitely needed to be operated on. But how???
Hubby contacted Dr. Yadav and Dr. Yadav said to pre-treat me with Hydrocortisone and an anti-histamine.
And then came the surgery. Usually it is done with general anesthetic. The last time I had general anesthetic for my emergency appendectomy in 2007, I almost died. The surgeon gave me a painkiller and told me that a little but would be fine even though we told him that I was allergic to painkillers. I woke up from the GA, gasping for breath like an asthmatic (even though I do not have asthma.
I felt like I was having a heart attack. The monitoring machine was beeping like crazy.) And Miss Anesthetist was adamant that I was having nightmares and a side-effect from the GA and couldn't wait to get me out of the recovering bay.
That was one hell of a memory of general anesthetic. I wondered whether I would make it this time round. And no, I never went back to that hospital. And that was the same hospital which told me to have a sit and wait for my turn when I went to the ER and told them that I was having an allergy attack. We NEVER went back, ever again. This hospital that I am at, is a different hospital for which I am grateful.
So Friday, at 4pm, they wheeled me into the operating bay and I didn't know how things would go. As they wheeled me in, my last contact was my mother's ashen face. Dad had gone back to bring some stuff for me. And hubby had to pick Joel up from school and take care of him. She looked so afraid and fearful that I was worried that she would collapsed on the spot from the stress. And she only had her thyroid removed 2 weeks ago!!! What a terrific time for all of these to happen. I found out later that she broke down and cried while I was in the operating theatre.
(To be continued...)