As I mentioned in my last post, my physical health has been somewhat of a problem since the beginning of this year. Abdominal pain led to pancreatitis which led to hospitalization and, since I was discharged from hospital, a mysterious abdominal pain that has zapped me of my strength, energy and motivation. In fact, it left me a doubled-over-in-pain, nauseous, vomiting wreck of a human being – and all I wanted to know was what was wrong with me. So last week, after numerous consultations with my GP, I was sent for a scan.
The scan took two hours. Two – tediously boring – hours! First of all I had to force myself to drink nearly a litre and a half of water. I don’t know why I had to consume so much liquid, this was never explained to me, it was just brought out to me and I was asked to drink it as quickly as possible. After making myself feel quite nauseous I was summoned into the scanning room where, after changing into a nifty hospital gown, I was laid on the CT scanner and was told I would need a canulla inserted in order to pump me full of the radioactive contrast medication that enables the scan to be viewed more clearly. This isn’t a problem if you have strong veins…but I don’t. After a gloriously failed (incredibly painful) attempt, the man summoned in his superior who would hopefully have better luck. They didn’t. So they decided (thankfully) to run the scan without the medication. Alas, this didn’t work, so they tried again to install a canulla into my quivering body. This time they wheeled in the ultrasound lady to try to locate my veins through technology. Two further (extremely painful) attempts later they finally managed to get the wee medical equipment into my vein and we were good to go. As the scanner man said “it took forty-five minutes to do something that should have been done in five”. At least the scan itself took only a couple of minutes.
The wait for the scan result, however, was seven days of anxiety inducing madness. As each day clicked over my mind flooded with all sorts of possibilities that could be causing this (at times) excruciating abdominal pain; could it be pancreatic cancer? Maybe it’s stomach cancer? Or an ulcer? Maybe it’s several ulcers all conjoining to create the world’s most grotesque stomach growth?
I have hypochondriac tendencies.
It’s not fun!
But after seven days of waiting I finally got the results of the scan yesterday. Apparently what is causing the pain is a 4x7cm cyst that has nestled itself into my pancreas and is happily doing whatever cysts do, much to the chagrin of its host. The GP said this might require surgery (which I’m not too keen on) but because the pain has subsided slightly over the last few days, he hasn’t referred me to the surgeon’s knife just yet. He’s going to monitor me over the coming weeks and, in a couple of months time will send me for another scan (which I’m not too keen on given the canulla nightmare of my recent scan) to see what the cyst is getting up to.
Strangely enough I’m not too fussed about having a cyst. It’s a little disconcerting (especially given its size) but it’s wonderful to know that there is an actual cause of the pain and that it’s not just some depression/anxiety induced psychosomatic symptom. It’s also wonderful to have a doctor that seems to genuinely care about what I’m going through. He really has been fantastic over the last several weeks, putting up with all sorts of paranoia, hypochondria and anxiety from this most stressed out of individuals.
In fact, it’s safe to say that I have never in my life felt this ill (even when I had glandular fever, which is the closest comparison to my current woes). And when I feel ill, I don’t function well mentally. My mood turns sour, depression creeps in and life becomes bleak and unenjoyable. So hopefully, as time ticks on, and my physical health improves, I will find my mental health improving alongside it.
For I really am completely over hospitals, canullas and abdominal pain. Although I do quite like the gowns, as they show off my cute wee behind! :p