Hospital visit and cancer scare

The last few weeks I have been quiet mostly due to health reasons. For years I have always had a problem keeping my food down when I eat it. The doctors have sent me to stomach specialists, I have been scanned, tubes up all orifices, cameras, etc, with no evidence of what causes it.

They even gave me this $1,500 nuclear powered plain egg only sandwich for a radiation test in my esophagus/stomach in 2021 with no results except a sticker shock at the insurance bill (I didn’t have to pay it). This is the most expensive plain egg only sandwich known to humanity

Fast forward to this year, and especially last 6 weeks. The vomiting has gotten worse, I would spend days in bed feeling like crap, and eventually it got so bad that beginning of June I went in to see if I had a kidney stone (real pain had started). They booted me out and said I was fine.

URGET CARE VISIT 1

Two weeks later it was five times worse. During this time the hubby had done research on my symptoms and was sure it was my gallbladder, so this time the hubby was on it before me and pushed me to go into urgent care when I was hit for three days with pain I couldn’t get out of bed from.

We went to urgent care where I promptly puked in the lobby (I have never used a puke bag before, that was gross.

They got me in, but within an hour urgent care told me that they didn’t see any kidney stones, and especially didn’t see any gallstones, but my labs came back and my liver was 7 x higher than it normally is (and my liver is normally slightly high). They immediately told me as soon as a bed opened up they were transferring me to a hospital (those numbers were evidently past what they worry about liver failure for). The nurse had already put up an NPO sign indicating no food or drink due to probably surgery needed.

After a few hours they explained it would probably be the next day before a room opened and I would be spending the night in urgent care. The third shift nurse was nice, and tried because she realized I had sat in there all day, no food. She dug around and found me a frozen Alfredo dinner and heated it up. I took a small bite and within minutes I was wracked in pain, so the food stopped.

A few hours later they told me they could get me into an observation ward (shared ward with curtains) and they transferred me at 10pm at night on June 30th. The hubby came over and visited me, and there was a whole funny thing where security guy was so lazy he didn’t want to take my husband and couldn’t get hold of a nurse, so instead told him that it was probably not allowed for him to come.

The hubby stayed strong, forced the issue and made that lazy ass walk to my wing where the security guard was corrected by the medical staff who told them that absolutely my husband can visit. It was a funny deserved moment that security guard got.

They kept me the next day and at the end of the day they gave me a specialized MRI and confirmed, and this is the actual professional term used, that my gallbladder was “filled with innumerable gallstones” and I also had a stone stuck in the common duct (shared by pancreas, liver, stomach and gallbladder I believe). That is what was by far hurting the most. So they scheduled me an ERPC the next evening to remove the stone, put a stent in and wait for gallbladder removal the next day.

HOSPITAL WAITING TO GET SURGERY

I went through another full day (this was July 2nd now) and hadn’t eaten since June 29th. I was on IV’s and not super hungry but it was awkward and even with not eating I felt so bloated and distended. I went down to the ERPC where they cleanly removed the stone, inserted the stent to prevent another stone rolling into it before my gallbladder removal, and they sent me back to my observation ward (packed, loud, and everything was sticky around my bed area). Evidently my gallbladder was “packed full” and I was also told my duct was scarred and they sent a biopsy off, obviously this has been happening for years and years and I had passed a LOT of stones without knowing what was happening.

The next morning on July 3rd, both the hubby and I are excited, my surgery is scheduled at 1215 to remove the gallbladder, I would be going home later that evening with a new lease on eating… except at 1205 the surgeon comes in and is surprised to see me ready for surgery.

He explains very kindly that my surgery is canceled and I can’t have surgery because they found a shelf sign in my common duct. A shelf sign is a sign for stomach cancer and at no point can they remove the gallbladder via laparoscopy because it would spread cancer cells everywhere. I would have to wait for the biopsy to be tested and then if it was confirmed as cancer I would need a different surgeon who could fully open me up and possibly take bits of stomach/liver/pancreas (I learned this later that evening from the hospital doctor).

I need to make clear that Dr. Conway was obviously upset no one had told me this was found the night before, and he was incredibly kind. I feel like he is a great guy and a surgeon no less with an incredible bedside manner.

We asked how likely it was, and both the hubby and I tried to explain that my father was told at least 6 times that he had cancer, and when biopsies came back he never did, his body was just weird. All three doctors I spoke with at the hospital assured me that this was not the case.

Between him and the next two doctors to talk to me in the next four hours they all make it clear I probably have stomach cancer (best survival rate at 5 years is 36%).

AFTER DIAGNOSIS…

I waited forever there before they discharged me after making me wait seven hours to get out. To be honest I had just shut down. No screaming, no crying, no freaking out, I just did what I do in a stressful situation and disassociate while I consider what I needed to do to get the hubby my life insurance and how long could I make it to pay off as many bills so the insurance can go to him taking time off.

Stomach cancer is the one weird fear I have had my entire life (well that or lung cancer, stomach is painful, lung is long term drowning). My family doesn’t have a history of it, it is just something as a literal 9 year old child had read about and have been terrified of since.

Fast forward almost two weeks and I read the report and it looked like I might not have it, but the doctor wouldn’t confirm on the phone and I had to go in, so I figured maybe I read it wrong.

I was prepared to hear the words, figured I would do the whole stoic route and they officially say it, but we were right to begin with… NOT CANCER and even Dr Conway seems really surprised. He mentioned it probably was scar tissue from the repeated stones and that is what the pictures caught.

So no cancer is a good thing, although the last two weeks I had spent setting up the hubby for my eventual demise (which wasn’t super imminent but I was planning on how to maximize the time left to work). Dr. Conway went over all the stuff about the surgery, once again the best bedside manner anywhere, and the best part is he is doing the surgery. So I go in July 30th to get this bad girl removed.

The next day the hubby seemed relaxed, as did our daughter Tally…

Even now I am feeling better than the weeks before, I should post about how my pain is less and eating has changed my vomiting situation. But this post is already too long, so will do that later.