Diverticulitis to a Youngster

The pain in my gut wasn’t too bad. I was at work perusing the internet when I started getting this feeling. I knew that something was amiss in my belly, but dismissed the thought as a minor ache. A few days later, the stomach pain had gotten significantly worse. I also hadn’t had a single bowel movement in three days. It was at this point that I realized there was really an issue with my stomach. It was on Thanksgiving morning that my mom drove me to Mission Hospital to get me fixed.

After taking an x-ray of my abdomen, a doctor told me that I had compacted fecal matter. He said that it looked similar to when people get Diverticulitis, but I was too young to contract that illness. The solution to my problem was to get up in there and loosen things up. This meant that the doctor lubricated his fingers, made me pull my legs back and let him dig for gold. This moment was not nearly as comical as when Sean William Scott has a similar procedure done to him in the movie Road Trip.

The doctor didn’t get anything out of me and sent me home with instructions to administer enemas and suppositories to myself. Well that was quite the experience. I did as he bid and eventually my system got flowing again. Unfortunately, I was still in no shape to enjoy the Thanksgiving dinner being devoured in the dining room directly below me. The smells were pure torture. As were the laughs of my loving and large family.

The next week at work I thought things would be returning to normal. I still wasn’t eating much though because I wasn’t feeling great. I assumed that the remaining pain in my gut was residual pain and just general soreness. Well that was until Wednesday, when I could not stand straight if my life depended on it. Back to the hospital we go.

This time, I am taken straight to the CT scan room so the doctors could get a better look inside me. It was at this moment that they realized that I had Diverticulitis. Also, since my Diverticulitis had gone undiagnosed for so long, the infection in my colon has reached a point where the colon literally could not contain it anymore. This is when my colon ruptured.

Pain. Pain worse than I have ever experienced. Pain on a level not experienced my me before. Pain so terrible that I cried for the first time since I was eleven. Every injury in my life, every moment where I thought it couldn’t get worse, could not compare to the feeling of sheer dread I had in my first few moments in the hospital. What could fix my pain? Enter one of the world’s most powerful narcotics, a drug named Dilaudid. Dilaudid is ten times more potent than Morphine. Dilaudid got the job done.

Heat. Pain. Breathe. Heat. Breathe. Heat. Heat. My body began warming up instantly. The lactic acid in every muscle came out in full force. I could feel my chest imploding on itself. I had to focus on my breathing just to make sure I continued to do so. This was the experience of Dilaudid. But wait. What did I take it for? I couldn’t even tell at first because of the drug induced stupor I was in. Then I realized, my stomach was bothering me. But that pain was gone. I thought forever, but boy I was wrong.

After being admitted to the hospital, I was taken to my room and met my first roommate. He was a really cool guy there to mend a broken clavicle. He was also my uncle’s neighbor so I knew him. I got very lucky to run into him and his wife there. Even though I am not religious, they prayed for me and the sentiment was genuinely appreciated. But then they left.

Enter an unnamed 22-year-old. Fighting two infections, with one in his stomach and another in the foot, he was a regular heroin abuser. I had two days of listening to his moaning. All the while I am in my own pain. Eventually they moved this kid out because he was just so problematic. Enter Patrick. A nice older man who couldn’t really speak much. He enjoyed watching basketball though so we were alright together.

I had to go an entire week without any food, water, or even ice chips to munch on. I was not allowed to put anything in my body. Keep in mind that it had been a week since my last bowel movement. Also, with each passing day, my infection got larger within my colon. The first week of IV antibiotics served only to contain the infection to the original spot. My colon kept on increasing in size since my internal abscess was accumulating more of the infection. This made my Dilaudid pain meds less effective as the pain became so bad.

“This is really a crazy situation for someone your age to be in. I have seen this in a lot of older people. The pain scale index places your situation on the same level as getting a gunshot to the stomach.” It was when my favorite nurse Amanda told me that that I realized I wasn’t being a big softy. My Dilaudid was coming every two hours and not a minute before, the medication lasted about 15 minutes before the pain returned in force. This was a struggle.

Finally. A chance to fix this. “We are going to take you back to the scanning room,” Dr. Shaver had explained, “In there, the Radiologist will remove as much of the infection as he can.” I was pretty relieved at this moment. I looked at it as the turning point in my hospital stay.

My mom had spent most of the time with me in the hospital, but she and my dad were eating lunch when I was instantly wheeled away. I nervously introduced myself to the imaging staff and they made me feel very comfortable. It was weird seeing the monitor because I couldn’t feel a thing, yet there was a foot long needle jammed in my stomach. It was really a surreal experience. Upon completion, I asked if I could see how much they were able to suck out and the Radiologist held out a foot long and thick vial filled with my infection. It was disgusting, but I am glad I saw it. At this moment they installed a drain into my colon to continue sucking out the infection. I was told it would be inside me for a couple weeks still.

The pain began to go away. I could survive as much as three or four hours before I would need my pain meds. The relief of having all of that infection sucked out was instantly noticeable. And my drain continued to work for me as I had to empty it three times a day. I have no official number to describe the amount of infected fluid I got rid of, but I can say that the growth within my colon was larger than a cantaloupe and more than double the size of my colon as it regularly sits. When comparing the size differential, it is easier to comprehend the pain associated with my troubles.

It had been five days since the procedure. I was starting to actually feel better. I still hadn’t eaten anything at the pint that my new roommate joined me. He was a nice older gentleman whose wife accompanied him. I actually fell asleep and was really deep into it before the sound woke me up.

Sirens blaring, lights flashing, and I look to the right to see a nurse working with my new elderly roommate. Then two more nurses rush in. Then three more. Now a group of doctors. Something weird was going on. Immediately the patient stands up, I look right, they close the curtain. Splash. Ugh, what was that smell? I heard and smelled something that made my spine shiver. Then I heard the flat line EKG sound that we are used to from TV. An endless stream of doctors and nurses are now flowing into the room and out of it. One of the nurses wheels my bed out and profusely apologizes. Of course I was not mad. Only sad for the poor old man. They wheel me into another room where a man named George was asleep. Unfortunately we woke him up and he wasn’t happy about it.

So without really knowing, I am pretty sure the old man passed away. In fact, I think he died right in front of me. On top of that I now was with George who, to put it simply, was an absolute lunatic. He accused my brother, my mother, and myself of lowering the thermostat with the sole intention of making him catch pneumonia. There is no logical reasoning behind his complaints. He was just a crazy person. Thankfully I only had two days with him.

Finally some alone time. I was so relieved to not have a roommate anymore. But something hit me while I was in there. A sense of loneliness. My parents showed great support and came as much as they could. However they both work thus limiting their availability. At a certain point I had almost gone crazy overthinking every decision I made in life. It is amazing how your mind works when you are confined to a bed for weeks at a time. I eventually broke down and started crying. I really couldn’t tell you what triggered the tears. It was an amalgamation of the entire experience.

It was my favorite nurse, Amanda, who had come in and consoled me. I felt a bit silly since Amanda also happened to be absolutely stunning in the looks department and this is not the way you act around girls like that. Well she was the coolest and most understanding person. Essentially she had gotten me to calm down and really feel better about a lot of things in general. In retrospect, I cannot thank Amanda enough for her amazing service. Truly the stuff of legend.

It was after about two weeks that I had been cleared to head home. They wanted to wheel me to my car, but I refused. I was so excited to get back into the world that I just walked out before the wheelchair could confine me. The fresh air was unbelievable. Two weeks of stale hospital air had influenced my madness to be sure. When my mom pulled the car up, I hugged my Patient Care Tech Grace, hopped in the car, and cried tears of absolute joy the entire ride home.

Now the next step to recovery was about to begin.