The Stoma Story - Part 3

I put off writing this post for a while. I will never, ever forget this time of my life. Thinking back on those days gives me almost a panic. I am so lucky. If you don't believe in luck, you could say there was divine intervention or that fate took over.
I should call it My Very Own Series of Fortunate Events.

August 2012
If I went back and looked at my hospital records I bet I could tell you exactly how many times I went to the ER last summer. I have honestly forgotten the exact number. I think four. It started with a flare up and muscle soreness. Then I started developing sores in my mouth. I had enough sores that I couldn't really eat. The doctors at the ER told me that I had hand, foot and mouth disease. They sent me home and told me that it would go away in a few days. Well, a few days later I was back at the ER, severely dehydrated because I couldn't swallow. Hand, foot and mouth. They sent me home with "magic mouthwash." It numbed my mouth long enough for me to take a few sips of water. Soon after the fevers started. My first fever spiked to 102. There were days that the fever would spike, I would take Tylenol, the fever would break leaving me covered in sweat, and then the fever would spike again...rinse and repeat. I found myself too sick to travel to my sisters baby shower that I had planned. I spent the day in bed, trying to drink Gatorade and whole milk so my body could have some nutrients. I was up to taking Percocet every few hours to break the fever and relieve the pain. Finally, I made an appointment with my GI doctor.
My mom drove me to the appointment because I was so weak. I couldn't sit up in the exam room. I will never forget the look on my doctors face when he saw me sitting there, mouth full of sores, white and shaking from malnutrition. He told me to go to the hospital right away and that he would call and guarantee that I was admitted.
I spent a week in the hospital getting steroids and pain meds with little improvement. The doctor decided to do another colonoscopy to see how bad things looked and decide on a plan of action. At this point, the worry was that I was misdiagnosed with ulcerative colitis and that I actually had Crohn's Disease. I was put under for the colonoscopy. When I woke up I immediately knew something was wrong. I was put into a private room for recovery and was told that a surgeon was going to come speak to me. They allowed my dad to come in at that point.
The surgeon came in and spoke like many surgeons do. Very point blank and abrasive. He told me that the GI didn't complete my colonoscopy because my colon was in such bad shape. He said I was to be put on a liquid diet to give my colon a little bit of a rest. He told me and my father that I would have to have a picc line put in and that I was going to start being treated with strong immunosuppressants to try to aggressively treat this disease.
September 5, 2012
What were you doing that day?
My day started with a picc line. A picc line is like an IV but sturdier. The tube is placed with the assistance of an ultrasound machine and goes through a vein all the way to your heart. Because the placement has to be perfect, it is double checked with an X-ray. That picc line and X-ray changed my life. Saved my life, actually. Whoever looked at the X-ray noticed something off, something wrong, something terrifying. They discovered "free air" in my abdomen. My colon had perforated.
My colon had perforated.
There was a hole on the lining of my colon.
Bacteria was seeping and leaking into my normally pristine abdomen.
Bacteria that could cause infection.
Bacteria that would kill me if not taken care of quickly.
I was immediately prepped for surgery.

This is where I'll take a break. I'm typing through tears. That day was the worst day of my life as well as a not so bad day.
*spoiler* I didn't die. I could have. I would have if not for that X-ray.