I saw the rheumatologist. It was a bit strange. The office was on the main drag in Pescara, but when we got up there, it was open but dark. I ventured further in, opened a door and interrupted a man speaking with the doctor. I apologized profusely and at least informed my husband we were in the right place. We switched on a light.
In a few minutes, the man left and the doctor called us in. There was a big table and he was at one end behind a partition (for Covid). I explained the situation. He got up at one point and looked at my hands. (See? I'm not kidding!)
He started me on Plaquenil (a drug I took ages ago) accompanied by some Neurontin. What he did was write a note, not prescriptions. He wrote a note to my GP in Penne. I thought that was somewhat strange, but...what do I know? Maybe that's how it works here. Then we paid him and left. I had some hope of feeling better, at least arthritis wise.
HOWEVER, I had been having some quite severe stomach cramping and pain for a while. I had to wonder if my old umbilical hernia was rearing its ugly head again. I was hurting pretty badly and afraid to eat and I convinced my husband I needed to get to the Pescara emergency area. We called a cab.
I was examined immediately, put on a gurney and wheeled to a large room, like a "holding area" where there were about 10 other people in various states of not-feeling-well on gurneys as well.
Eventually I was sent for a scan. And then back to the holding room. I told my husband to leave as I had absolutely nothing with me...no pj's, no toothpaste, no brush...nothing. He got home rather quickly and somehow it ended up that our friend (and insurance agent...who is also vice-mayor of Penne) would come with a bag of supplies for me, since he and his family actually live in Pescara.
I don't know. It seemed like forever. Staring at walls. Watching other people get fed. Staring at walls again. Pain, pain, PAIN!
Then I saw our friend. !!!! He had a bag with pajamas and everything else for me. We talked a little, but it was difficult for me. The pain...the uncertainty....I was crying. So, he somehow managed to speak to the doctor on call and within five minutes I was taken into the "exam" room with the doctor and a nurse. My friend was there, too. I was examined. The two of them talked. Next thing, I'm getting an IV and pain killers. YAY!!! With that, he left and I was taken up to the surgical wing.
The doctor there explained to me that I would be under observation. The problem was scar tissue and operating on scar tissue creates more scar tissue. So...they would "watch."
I was helped into pajamas, given a bed and was finally able to sleep.
The next day, I was taken to a different room that was occupied by one other woman. She was very nice...and busy a lot calling her husband, her daughters, her son, her young grandkids.
After a couple of days, I was back on mashed potatoes. I was also receiving antibiotics. Mashed potatoes became a piece of chicken and mashed potatoes, or a small hamburger and mashed potatoes. Finally, a burger, carrots and mashed potatoes. And a roll. I felt fine and after a week they sent me home.
I was fine at home, too, until the meds wore off. So I found myself making mashed potatoes quite a bit.
So, I know what it is and if I am lucky, the pain will dissipate with time. It seems to be happening, but very, very slowly. I can eat pasta, a piece of toast, ground turkey or chicken. Sometimes I have horrible pain, other times I am ok. Ice cream...gelato, sits well, too.
I have completely maxxed out on hospitals. The Plaquenil is helping.
