This blog never had any intention of becoming a medical journal. I swear. Fresh from the doctor's office after another outburst from The Mystery Disease, this time in my stomach and esophagus. We are now treating it like an (or multiple) ulcer(s). Which means bye-bye Vicodin and hello frozen yogurt. New meds and the mac-and-cheese diet, which is okay with me except that it means actually eating. I've dropped two pounds with my lack of appetite. Two pounds doesn't sound like a lot, but keep in mind that I started at 105. Bottoming at 103 officially makes me a stick. But I haven't noticed because my tummy's all puffed up like a kwashiorkor child.
Not funny, I know, but bear with me. It's been a very long couple of months.
Fingers crossed that these new meds work. Lots and lots of fingers crossed. Because if they don't, it means a) there are serious complications or b) it's not actually an ulcer (and I'm really really hoping that it is; not because ulcers are wonderful, but it is nice to have a name to blame instead of The Big Mystery).
If this has been an ulcer all along (or some ulcer related trouble), I've only succeeded in making it much worse with all of the pain meds I've been popping since November. Much much worse. Thank you hospital visits for giving me no answers and the wrong prescriptions. This now means that the maybe-ulcers could be spreading to my other organs or drilling holes in my digestive tract and letting toxic fluid leak out (cough cough may I again mention that all the doctors HAVE been able to tell is that there is a lot of mystery fluid in my abdominal cavity) or - because I like worst case scenarios - the ulcers could be big and bad and mean gastric cancer.
So. It's a nice, painful wait to guess and check with these new meds. But I'm strangely positive about this. Trying to be, at least.
New Year's Eve. Tomorrow. Everyone's making their to-do-2010 lists. I'm not much for resolutions, but if I were, here's what my list would look like:
1) be well
2) write more
3) finish what I start
4) apply to grad school
5) be accepted to grad school :)
Six is a nice number, I think.
Milta has heated a bag of beans for my back. It smells terrible, but it's supposed to ease some of the pain - we hope - so it's worth a shot.
I hope that you are well. I send you all my yellow thoughts for your new year.