No, it wasn't diverticulitis. Within two days, I was in agony. I couldn't eat, even if I wanted to...which I didn't because of what they had told me I could have. I was down....on the bed,...and begged my husband to call my friend again.
She came...and said, "Let's go to the hospital." I didn't even want to get dressed, but they managed to put a clean shirt on me and shorts. I was lying in the back seat of the car. I have no idea what time it was...but it was afternoon...maybe late afternoon.
This time, in the ER, I was taken directly to CT and THIS time they did a scan with contrast, finally. Within minutes a doctor was telling me I had a perforation and would have to have surgery. I was put on a stretcher and wheeled out to another area. A big room. A big, empty room. An IV was started. They managed to get my pants off but my shirt had to be cut off me. It was dark and cool. I tried to relax at least a tiny bit.
The doctors came in and asked me more questions. One spoke English well. I filled him in and told him about the last trip to the ER. He was livid. Two of the medications I was given interacted badly and caused the perforation. He would have to do an exploratory laparotomy and "look around." I was scared but I had no choice.
Then I was alone. Soon...something happened, something "gave." I felt something go "poof" inside. At first, that's all it was and then the pain kicked in. Dear god, I started screaming. The nurses came and immediately started rolling me down the hall to the OR. Someone took my right arm and placed it on a plank or something....and someone, I think a man, was holding a mask near my nose...not tight, not over it...but near. That's all I remember.
I am told the surgery lasted 4 hours.
I woke up. Then I was being moved...some awful nurse was slapping things onto the bed...up to another floor. Into a room...there was another woman in the room. I was put by the window. It felt airless and hot.
I don't know how long it took....but as things came back into focus....I had bags attached to me. I had oxygen up my nose and also another godawful tube. My nose was covered in bandages. Tubes everywhere. I was afraid but determined to ask....so I asked a nice nurse if anything was permanent. She assured me they were not.
I was helpless. I had a catheter to the bladder. My blood pressure was WAY low. Nurses came and washed me and changed my gown each day. The lady in the room was discharged. Soon, a young girl was brought in. She was seventeen and had had some episode in a restaurant.
As time passed and I became more aware I also became tremendously uncomfortable. There was some pain in the abdomen, but mostly it was arthritis combined with a hard as a rock bed and similar pillows.
Finally, I was allowed to sit up. I was given a moist face cloth to put on my chapped, dry lips. I was encouraged to sit in a chair for a little bit. The chairs were hard, too, so I asked that a sheet be folded under me. It helped a little bit.
The young girl's parents visited twice each day and were very nice. The father told me his daughter spoke English...in case I wanted someone to talk to. She broke the ice later.....and we had a chat. She had studied for a year in Canada. I'm not clear on what her goal was....but she added that she and about 4 other students landed in NY and the teacher who picked them up brought them to a pizza place in the city. Being Italian, they assumed the pies were individual pieces. Of course, they were not. So 5 LARGE PIES were brought to their table. She said they were very, very hungry, though, so it really wasn't a problem. She, too, was discharged.
I was, at this point, getting up into the chair each day. One day, the nurse who had often put my hair up for me said that maybe I should brush it. I did and lots and lots of hair came out. Tons of hair came out. It was very alarming.
By this time I was being given IV nutrition constantly. Soon, the bladder catheter was removed. The first night it seemed I had to go every hour, so the nurse outfitted me with a diaper so I could get some sleep. Control came back within 24 hours.
Then the day came for the miserable tube in my nose to be removed. They injected a blue dye through it...this tube went directly to my stomach. Ack...ack....and then I waited for a few hours.
Doctors, students, nurses all marched into the room....what a crowd!! The bags were not affected by the blue dye which meant there were no leaks...a good thing. It also meant the damned tube could come out!! It hurt....and my nose had scabs and was bleeding, but I was so relieved!
Now the nurses were putting me in my own pajamas. I had to have help because I still had 4 bags attached. Also, each time I got up, I had to have a "belt"...a surgical belt wrapped around me.
I got moved to another room. It had three beds. The other two beds filled up quickly with ladies who had had scheduled procedures. Also, I was started on mushy food. Bleh. The cafeteria kept getting my name wrong. Mashed potatoes. Polenta with tomato. And other things I wouldn't touch..like farina and yogurt.
There were two young doctors (3, actually, but I did not like the third one) who usually checked on me. One was a young woman who looked like she was about 13. The other, a young man with a pony tail. Turns out they both spoke English.
The female doctor was the one who took out the first tube. It was not a comfortable procedure, but it was wonderful to have one less bag attached to me. I should add the bandages over my incision were changed every other day. I didn't have the courage to look but I was told I had staples.
Each day, another bag was removed. The young male doctor, Dr. Crisi, (*yes, it means "crisis" in English) spoke excellent English and was very kind. He explained that there was "no more bile" and the perforations had been repaired. He told me the staples had to stay in even after I was discharged. He told me the IV nutrition helped, but wasn't perfect as it bypassed the stomach. Regular food was ordered but somehow that order never came through. I was pissed beyond belief.
Finally, no tubes...I could get up and make it to the bathroom by myself. I could wash myself up and brush my teeth. Soon I would be discharged with an appointment just 5 days later to check the wounds...not just the staples, but the wounds from the last two bags that were removed.
Percy, our problem child, was absolutely nuts without me home. He slipped out the door twice and was peeing in the house. He has calmed down considerably since I have been back....Lupo comes for his affection and to "nurse" on my finger. Scruffy follows me around, Missy Tee follows me around....my entourage.
I've been back for 2 outpatient visits. The staples were removed, but two bandages remain over those 2 last stubborn tube sites. I can't take a shower. But, I can eat like a normal person. I am very, very weak and tired. The surgical bandage feels sore every evening. I have to give myself an injection every morning so that I don't get a blood clot. But...I'm home and I am feeling better. Little by little, every day. I am down 30 pounds or so....some I have gained back already. I actually hope I don't gain it all back.
The moral of this story is.......Penne hospital needs to close down. I, myself, do not ever intend to set foot there again.
Many, many thanks to my dear friend and neighbor who continues to drive me to and from Chieti. That hospital saved my life and I am very grateful.
