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Sep. 30th, 2003
Medical Update
Sep. 30th, 2003 03:59 pmI went to a GI doctor today to get scoped. This turned out to be the highlight of my day.
My internist had referred me, telling me it might take a week to get an appointment. But last night I was again in terrible pain, doubled over and crying. So this morning Lauren called my doctor again, who told us to try to get an emergency appointment right away or to go to NYU's emergency room. (More on the NYU connection later.)
The GI doctor agreed to see me at 12:30. As requested, I got to the office early, filled out some forms, and sat and tried to deal with my pain. At about 12:55, the doctor's assistant finally came out to get me, and we went back to get ready for the procedure. Once I sat down, I started to cry again from the pain. I could still change my clothes and put my things in the locker, though.
A few minutes later I got onto a gurney in the exam room. The doctor could tell that I had been crying and that I was dehydrated. He was a calming, reassuring presence who made me feel a little bit better despite the pain. The anesthesiologist came in next we talked for a couple of minutes, and then he started an IV. Once that was established, he gave me some fentanyl, a very strong narcotic that immediately transformed the pain into something I could deal with.
The GI doctor came back. After a few minutes of preparation, they then sedated me and did the scoping. I came to about thirty minutes later in a darkened cubicle that they use for recovery. I felt no after-effects of the scope itself, and the narcotic was still controlling the pain.
When I had recovered, the doctor came back in with the results. I had an "extreme" ulceration, he said: the ulcer was a little over an inch long and entirely circled my esophagus. As he put it, it looked "like a lye burn." He said he also suspected I was being "stoic" about the pain—this, after seeing me cry in his office.
He could not give me painkillers; an esophageal ulcer can perforate, which is a life-threatening condition requiring immediate medical attention. But if I had painkillers, such a thing could happen and I might overlook it. So instead, he doubled my dose of the drug that blocks acid production and gave me another prescription for a drug that coats and protects the ulcer as it heals. It has reduced the pain somewhat. The doctor said I should have a lot less pain over the next couple of days and should be eating normal food again in a week. He said they were going to give me an extra IV drip, while I was there, because I needed the fluids.
Finally, he said, if I couldn't take the pain any more, I should not be heroic, but I should go right to NYU's emergency room so they could admit me for a few days. While I was safely under observation in the hospital, he explained, they could administer painkillers. He was very insistent about NYU, explaining that my internist oversees that ER, and that all the doctors there are scared of him.
So, here I am back home with a coated but still painful esophageal ulcer. I am waiting for the pain to ease enough that I can try a meal-replacement shake. And so it goes. At least I appear not to be dying.
Oh, and did I mention that today is Lauren and my second wedding anniversary?
My internist had referred me, telling me it might take a week to get an appointment. But last night I was again in terrible pain, doubled over and crying. So this morning Lauren called my doctor again, who told us to try to get an emergency appointment right away or to go to NYU's emergency room. (More on the NYU connection later.)
The GI doctor agreed to see me at 12:30. As requested, I got to the office early, filled out some forms, and sat and tried to deal with my pain. At about 12:55, the doctor's assistant finally came out to get me, and we went back to get ready for the procedure. Once I sat down, I started to cry again from the pain. I could still change my clothes and put my things in the locker, though.
A few minutes later I got onto a gurney in the exam room. The doctor could tell that I had been crying and that I was dehydrated. He was a calming, reassuring presence who made me feel a little bit better despite the pain. The anesthesiologist came in next we talked for a couple of minutes, and then he started an IV. Once that was established, he gave me some fentanyl, a very strong narcotic that immediately transformed the pain into something I could deal with.
The GI doctor came back. After a few minutes of preparation, they then sedated me and did the scoping. I came to about thirty minutes later in a darkened cubicle that they use for recovery. I felt no after-effects of the scope itself, and the narcotic was still controlling the pain.
When I had recovered, the doctor came back in with the results. I had an "extreme" ulceration, he said: the ulcer was a little over an inch long and entirely circled my esophagus. As he put it, it looked "like a lye burn." He said he also suspected I was being "stoic" about the pain—this, after seeing me cry in his office.
He could not give me painkillers; an esophageal ulcer can perforate, which is a life-threatening condition requiring immediate medical attention. But if I had painkillers, such a thing could happen and I might overlook it. So instead, he doubled my dose of the drug that blocks acid production and gave me another prescription for a drug that coats and protects the ulcer as it heals. It has reduced the pain somewhat. The doctor said I should have a lot less pain over the next couple of days and should be eating normal food again in a week. He said they were going to give me an extra IV drip, while I was there, because I needed the fluids.
Finally, he said, if I couldn't take the pain any more, I should not be heroic, but I should go right to NYU's emergency room so they could admit me for a few days. While I was safely under observation in the hospital, he explained, they could administer painkillers. He was very insistent about NYU, explaining that my internist oversees that ER, and that all the doctors there are scared of him.
So, here I am back home with a coated but still painful esophageal ulcer. I am waiting for the pain to ease enough that I can try a meal-replacement shake. And so it goes. At least I appear not to be dying.
Oh, and did I mention that today is Lauren and my second wedding anniversary?
(no subject)
Sep. 30th, 2003 10:13 pmI am about to leave to check myself into NYU hospital. I expect to be there for a couple of days. Accordingly, I will not be at Rose's Thursday night.