Tomorrow, I'm scheduled for another EGD. Before I go in for that joy, I have to stop by radiology and get my PICC line xrayed. My visiting nurse is concerned that my PICC line has pushed itself out 7 cm over the past 6 months or so and now it may not be seated properly above the heart valve. If my PICC xray shows the line has indeed moved up far above my valve, I'm going to have to get the current PICC pulled and have a new one installed. I'm not sure exactly which I'm looking forward to less... At least with the EGD I get a nap...
So, joy of joys, since I cannot drive myself to these appointments (1. since I'll be under sedation, and 2. since I'm on heavy duty narcotics and don't trust my own driving skills) I'll have the added stress of hanging out with my parents the whole day. Don't get me wrong. I like my parents. Though my father's driving lately tends to scare the bejeebies out of me. So, yay.
I'm still convinced that I have some form of adhesion to my abdominal wall. A small piece of fused scar tissue perhaps. It would explain (in my mind, at least) the tugging, pulling, and rubber-band like twanging feeling that I keep getting. It would also explain why hiccups, sneezes and any sudden movement of my abdomen leave me looking like I have Torrettes Syndrome. I hiccup, I curse. I sneeze, I curse. I turn too fast, or bend down to quickly, I curse. ...maybe I just have Tourettes... I should add that test to the list.
Monday, next week, I'm traveling up to the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania. I've been working with the Gastroenterology department (Dr. Wernsing and Dr. Yang) there attempting to get some much needed answers. On Monday I'm scheduled for a menometry and a little tracking camera-pill (that I can't remember the name for right now). Basically this will test my rate of peristalsis and check for any physical anomalies along the way (such as ulcerations or obstructions and strictures).
I'm still having the same pain in the same spot, so at least something is consistent. Still feels like a rubberband twaging me... or on a bad day I swear it feels like a baby kicking. It's creepy and weird and on really bad days you can watch my abdomen move while it spasms.
Hopefully someone will figure something out soon. I'm ready to take my ball and go home. This isn't fun anymore.
In addition to all of my medical stresses, my oldest son just graduated High School. YAY! We survived prom planning and graduation stuffs. Man, that crap is expensive! My youngest also had to order his school ring. I feel like I should be shooting twenty dollar bills out of my fingertips with all the money I've been handing out lately. But I must say, I am proud of my boys. My oldest and his woman looked fantastic going to the prom. The boy made me super proud graduating, and he's already been accepted into the college of his choice for the fall. Now the college planning begins. He'll be going to school in Connecticut, so we have to figure out travel expenses along with everything else. I swear, if this stomach thing doesn't kill me, freaking out about college will. It's very traumatic realizing that my first born baby boy is a man. A man with a beard. A man with a clear career path and plans for his life for the next 10 years. I must have made a good decision or two somewhere. The kids turned out pretty good. Or I got lucky. Something like that....
Anywho, I'm off to bed. Early start tomorrow. Already have my TPN hooked up so I can take it off before my parents get here. Oh, yay. Wish me luck...
So, joy of joys, since I cannot drive myself to these appointments (1. since I'll be under sedation, and 2. since I'm on heavy duty narcotics and don't trust my own driving skills) I'll have the added stress of hanging out with my parents the whole day. Don't get me wrong. I like my parents. Though my father's driving lately tends to scare the bejeebies out of me. So, yay.
I'm still convinced that I have some form of adhesion to my abdominal wall. A small piece of fused scar tissue perhaps. It would explain (in my mind, at least) the tugging, pulling, and rubber-band like twanging feeling that I keep getting. It would also explain why hiccups, sneezes and any sudden movement of my abdomen leave me looking like I have Torrettes Syndrome. I hiccup, I curse. I sneeze, I curse. I turn too fast, or bend down to quickly, I curse. ...maybe I just have Tourettes... I should add that test to the list.
Monday, next week, I'm traveling up to the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania. I've been working with the Gastroenterology department (Dr. Wernsing and Dr. Yang) there attempting to get some much needed answers. On Monday I'm scheduled for a menometry and a little tracking camera-pill (that I can't remember the name for right now). Basically this will test my rate of peristalsis and check for any physical anomalies along the way (such as ulcerations or obstructions and strictures).
I'm still having the same pain in the same spot, so at least something is consistent. Still feels like a rubberband twaging me... or on a bad day I swear it feels like a baby kicking. It's creepy and weird and on really bad days you can watch my abdomen move while it spasms.
Hopefully someone will figure something out soon. I'm ready to take my ball and go home. This isn't fun anymore.
In addition to all of my medical stresses, my oldest son just graduated High School. YAY! We survived prom planning and graduation stuffs. Man, that crap is expensive! My youngest also had to order his school ring. I feel like I should be shooting twenty dollar bills out of my fingertips with all the money I've been handing out lately. But I must say, I am proud of my boys. My oldest and his woman looked fantastic going to the prom. The boy made me super proud graduating, and he's already been accepted into the college of his choice for the fall. Now the college planning begins. He'll be going to school in Connecticut, so we have to figure out travel expenses along with everything else. I swear, if this stomach thing doesn't kill me, freaking out about college will. It's very traumatic realizing that my first born baby boy is a man. A man with a beard. A man with a clear career path and plans for his life for the next 10 years. I must have made a good decision or two somewhere. The kids turned out pretty good. Or I got lucky. Something like that....
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