Health

This blogus interruptus is brought to you by my favorite organ, the liver.

Thank you, and have a nice day. 

My mothers (via birth and marriage) both warned me to take it easy when I blogged that I had the flu. Did I? Do I even have to ask this question here on my blog? Seems that I do the same thing every time. Get sick, do too much, get more sick, repent for overdoing, and then promise to take it easy next time.

Anyone who would bet that I'd ever take it easy would lose their money. Did I mention that I went back to waiting tables when my firstborn was 10 days old? Yeah, this is a long term issue....

I'm SO GLAD that BJ has been out of town, because I'm one noisy RisibleGirl at night. Well, I'm noisy in the day too- it's just more annoying at night whilst trying to sleep.

Last night was the worst. There was nothing in the house that could get me to stop coughing. I was coughing so hard that I was (how can I say this delicately?) hurling. My eyelids are swollen and my upper body feels like I was in a fight. Here's a run-down of last night (because I know you're waiting for EVERY detail):

10ish: Took some Robitussin and Tylenol and went to bed
11:30: Woke up coughing. Since I just took cough medicine, I didn't want to take more so got some water and a lozenge and tried to stop.

Coughing continues....

12:30: Ran a bath and shut the door to the bathroom, hoping that the steam would stop the coughing. (It worked for croup, right?)
1:00: Coughing calms, go to bed

2ish: Coughing resumes. Take NyQuil and drink hot lemonade
2:30 (ish): Coughing calms, try to sleep

3am: Coughing resumes. More lozenges and hot lemonade. Not working. Get up and go watch TV.
4am: Go back to bed, decide that laying down is the problem, so get all the pillows I can find and prop myself in a sitting position.

4:30 Must have fallen asleep because I was no longer propped up and had resumed hacking. Go take some Robitussin, remember that I have an inhaler and should use it. (I tend to get asthmatic when I get sick) and prop myself back up.
5am: Swear on all things holy that I would call the doctor in the morning to get the 'good' cough medicine.

The inhaler was a good idea, because it did help me get about two hours of sleep. I looked in the mirror this morning and it looks like I've been in a fight. I'm supposed to board an airplane tomorrow at 8pm. Would you want to sit next to me? No? I didn't think so.

I called the doctor and she's called in some cough medicine with codeine. There's really nothing else she can do for me, because this is viral. I think that I've passed through the worst of it. I sound much less like a frog today, and more like someone who has smoked 10 packs a day for 80 years. This is good.

BJ comes home today, so I'm putting ice packs on my eyes to try to take the swelling down. It looks like I've been on a 10 day crying jag... I wouldn't want him to think that I was pining away or anything.

Gah.... too much overtime + too much stress= liver flare-up. I'm willing to admit that stress does seem to sometimes bring it on. I hate that because it makes me feel like I'm a weak person.

I actually called in sick today (something I rarely do), and will probably do so again tomorrow. I wasn't really sure what was going on until the pain and nausea set in. All I knew was that I wanted to do nothing but sleep, which is a typical early indicator for me.

Nothing I can do about it, except take anti-nausea and pain meds and sleep. So that's what I plan to do until I'm over the hump.

Nighty night...

I just got the call I've been waiting for from the gastro's office.

I'm all clear.

I suspected as much since I hadn't heard anything immediately after the ultrasound. I was correct in assuming that they were just waiting for the lab results.

I just want to thank you all for your good wishes. It was a comfort to me to know I had your thoughts being sent my way.

OH yeah, consider this a heads up to mark your calendars for ensuing drama once again next year.

Yesterday was a rough day for me because my head was pulled firmly out of the sand. This happens every six months when I visit the gastroenterologist for a follow up on how my liver is holding up. In addition to the normal tests measuring how my liver is functioning every six months, I get an alpha-fetoprotein blood test and an extensive ultrasound of my abdomen on a yearly basis. These two tests are specifically done to rule out liver cancer.

I'd like to think of those two tests like a yearly mammogram, but it's impossible for me. My gastro reminds me every time I see him that we need to keep on top of this because statistics show that people who have a chronically inflamed liver for 10 years or more are likely to develop liver cancer. My liver has been documented to be chronically inflamed since 1986, and who knows how long prior to that.

I may joke here a lot about "needing a drink" or "going off now to get drunk" but it truly is a joke. Up until about four years ago, I never touched a drop of alcohol. The liver problem I have has nothing to do with alcohol or any other high risk factor (hep c, drugs, etc.).

I have never had a doctor really agree on what the problem is. Last year, my PCP tested me for a genetic disease called alpha-1-antitrypsin deficiency on a fluke and I tested positive. My gastro used to try to tell me that it was due to a fatty liver until he got my biopsy results. I may have a fatty butt- but I don't have a fatty liver. Not even a trace of it. Now he seems more interested in my care since it's apparently NOT MY FAULT. He still doesn't believe that the Alpha-1 is what is causing the liver problems. I have a message board of Alpha-1 folks with liver transplants that beg to differ.

It doesn't really matter though, because there is absolutely nothing that can be done to stop or reverse what is happening. Eventually I may need a liver transplant, if liver cancer doesn't happen first. A transplant is a much better option because liver cancer is nearly impossible to survive. Boy, I'm just a bundle of happy and bright thoughts right now. Now you know what it's like to have lived in my head the past 24 hours. And I go into this funk every stinking year without fail.

Telecommuting three days a week has made a huge difference in the number of flare-ups I have, but I still have chronic inflammation and abnormal liver test results even when I'm feeling OK. I don't focus on this, or try not to anyway. In fact, I tend to bury my head in the sand about the whole thing.

Yesterday I was about 15 minutes early for the train, so rather than wait in line in the rain I stayed in my car for a while. I usually straighten up my car when I have nothing better to do, so that's what I went about doing. I picked up the physician's orders I had laying on the passenger seat for today's ultrasound and read the words "to R/O (rule out) hepatoma".

My mind was in very bad places all day yesterday. Rather than think about the fact that I've avoided the odds 10 years longer than most, I focused on the fact that I felt like a ticking time bomb. I started thinking about the fact that my surgeon insisted on an EGD and colonoscopy two months ago to find out where I'm bleeding because of the low iron levels. My gastro said that I very might well be having small bleeds in my esophagus due to the erosion, but he's not positive because nothing was actively bleeding during the exam. I've turned that around to, "there's still mysterious bleeding going on somewhere".

I kept thinking about how wonderful my life has been lately and how I keep saying in my posts that my life keeps getting wrapped up with a pretty bow. My usual positive outlook turned that completely around and I started to fear that very thing; fear the fact that my life has been wrapped up with a pretty bow. Does that mean it's over? See? My mind is a very scary place to be right now.

I was a bit of a mess when I got home and then I beat myself up for being such a drama queen. It was as if I had the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One side kept saying, "nothing has happened, so quit being such a baby". The other side kept telling me, "it's going to happen- it's just a matter of time. You're a ticking time bomb".

I had my ultrasound this morning at 7:30 and like always I tried to watch the technologist's face to see if her expression ever changed. She scanned for 20 minutes and asked a couple of strange questions, but then followed it up with "I'm just being nosey- don't worry about the question". Well, I wasn't worried about it until she said that! Sheesh.

So now I wait for the blood test and the ultrasound results and then hopefully I'll put all of this to rest until 12 months from now when I start the process all over again.

Mommy needs a drink.

HA! Just kidding.