Tacos Are Now On The Naughty List


Wednesday started out innocent enough. ¬†I dragged my lazy butt to work, worked the morning away, and then went out to a great Mexican joint down the street with two of my managers. ¬†I’ve been there a few times, and every dish I had was fantastic. ¬†I went low key, tacos (real tacos) with beans and rice. ¬†All foods I’ve never had a problem with, and let me tell you, they were delicious.

Back to work I went, and in a couple of hours, my stomach started bothering me. ¬†With having Crohns Disease, that’s not completely out of the norm, but I hadn’t eaten anything I couldn’t tolerate. ¬†Whatever.

Once I got home, I decided to skip right over dinner and go lay down. ¬†I was feeling pretty nauseated, but again, that’s not out of the norm lately. ¬†I figured I’d go sleep it off. ¬†Well, I slept… for an hour. ¬†That oh-my-god-I-have-3-seconds-until-I-hurl feeling woke me up and I stumbled straight for the toilet.

I have never puked that hard in my entire life. ¬†Not even that one night in my early twenties where I didn’t have to pay for patron shots and consumed enough to cost one of my paychecks if I did. ¬†Never. ¬†Puked. ¬†That. ¬†Hard. ¬†The only time I had thrown up that hard was back in my teen years when I got myself a good ole case of food poisoning from an under-cooked burger. ¬†Remembering how long that lasted, and the relief I got in the ER, I figured oh well. ¬†I had the boyfriend call my GI (with Crohns, you can never be too careful, I figured worst case scenario, he couldn’t say I didn’t tell him I went to the ER) and then promptly drive my puking self all the way to the hospital. ¬†I spent the ride in the backseat going “oh my god, where are we??! ¬†Why are we not there yet?!!?”

The ER I frequent is staffed with some very wonderful doctors and some sweet nurses. ¬†They’ve never questioned me when I have shown up… for any reason. ¬†I’m pretty knowledgeable about my body and have a pretty extensive chart. ¬†So I explain that I think I have food poisoning, and yes, I have Crohns. ¬†Mr. ER doc doses me up with some Zofran so I can stop puking, and orders an x-ray to be safe. ¬†I curl up in my ER bed watching the kid and boyfriend play Minecraft on the tablet. ¬†Half an hour later the doc comes back.

“The X-ray showed a loop of intestine that may be blocked, I hate to do this, but I want you to have a catscan to make sure you don’t have an obstruction. ¬†Especially with your history.” ¬†I agreed but had to fight off the urge to roll my eyes. ¬†I’ve had so many obstructions, I’ve lost count… this couldn’t possibly be one. ¬†I was absolutely *fine* this morning, no pain, and plus, I usually don’t puke until the later stages… and I couldn’t have crossed my obstruction timeline in a third of the time. ¬†:::Pukes::: More Zofran please!!! ¬†Oh god, I have to drink contrast??!

Insert catscan here, insert horrible joke about glowing with radiation.  Insert nurses prediction on where said contrast was going to end up.

When I got back from the catscan, I sent the boyfriend and kid to sleep out on the couch in the waiting room (way better than the chairs they had in my little hole). ¬†I figured I had food poisoning. ¬†In another hour the Zofran would kick the crap out of whatever pukey little bug I had, and I’d be off to sleep at home.

No sooner than I settled back in my little bed, I had to grab the puke bag. ¬†The nurse called it… all that contrast came right back up. ¬†As I’m sitting there puking, the nurse runs in with the doctor. ¬†Apparently I somehow do have an obstruction, and now they want to put in an NG tube. ¬†I had already maxed out my Zofran, and seeing how I’d rather sit on the toilet for hours, rather than puke, I agreed.

The tube helped, and I was able to get some pain medication and sleep. ¬†(Bonus: I accidentally pulled it out later… and I got to keep it out! Hell to the yeah!) ¬†I stayed in the ER until morning since the hospital was full, but they finally got me a room… which is where I am now. ¬†It’s Friday.

After speaking with the surgeon/a radiologist/my GI, I basically came out with one hodge-podge of a story. ¬†Surgeon and radiologist see a stricture, a bad one at that… with little to no inflammation. ¬†That explains my lack of symptoms… and skipping from cramping straight to puking my brains out. ¬†GI doctor was angry I didn’t want to take one kind of my medication anymore, and we had to have the “quality of life” argument again.

[Something I’ve learned along this journey, is that quality of life is really, really important. ¬†I would much rather have a couple of bad days here and there and *not* take a medication than take a medication that makes me lose my hair, lose my appetite and gives me the worst fatigue I’ve ever felt (and coming from someone who deals with fatigue on a daily basis, that is saying something). ¬†I’d much rather spend time with my family than all my time sleeping.]

So long story short, barring some horrible incident when I’m finally allowed to eat again, I’ll be allowed to go home “sometime this weekend”. ¬†I’m just hoping for before the massive snow storm that’s supposed to hit Saturday night.

I really wish I was home right now, I’m pretty home sick after only a few days. ¬†It has nothing to do with the care I get here, I drive 40 minutes past 4 other hospitals for a reason, I just miss my family and hate being reminded that I am indeed mortal. ¬†I know that my little one is having a sleep over with one of her favorite people ever tonight (thanks Jess!) and is having a blast… but I still miss her. ¬†After losing so much time being sick, I hate losing any time at all.

I’ll be finally switching to the new medication I’ve been rambling about (the name escapes me at the moment) and I did agree to go on the shall-not-be-named medication I hate, but at a low low LOW dose (I was on such a high dose last time, it was beyond what “high dose” is considered normal- hence the horrible symptoms.) ¬†I’ll also be stuck weaning off of the prednisone again too.. because yup… during a morphine nap, a good ole bag of prednisone got hooked up to my IV. ¬†Sneaky Sneaky. ¬†Maybe they’ve caught on that I’ll try to refuse if I’m awake. ¬†To think, I *just* got rid of the moon face too. ¬†That’s a whole different blog though… one I don’t feel like mentally visiting right this second.

All I know is that I really, truly hate NG tubes, seeping IVs (my hand doubled in size overnight) and now apparently tacos.  Oh tacos.. you will be missed.