Last night I felt the most unsetteling pain I’d felt in a long time, if not ever. A pain under my right breast, around my rib cage, that wrapped around towards my back underneath my shoulder blade. My first thought? LIVER FAILURE. I thought that I had finally drank one glass of wine too many, and my liver was shutting down. So I got straight onto the phone with NHS Direct – a brilliant service we have here in the UK, where you can talk to a nurse about your problems, at any time. I was so nervous; thinking on the one hand, maybe I am being a hypochondriac, maybe my brain is telling me I have this ghost pain, in order to scare myself out of drinking. Then, when I started talking to the nurse, I realised that the pain was there, although it was a bit strange, sort of like a numbness. As an NHS nurse however, all she could really do is assure me that this wasn’t my liver, that it was most likely my gall bladder, and that I should take some parcetemol and see my GP as soon as possible.
When I got off the phone with her, I made an appointment to see the GP my company pays for, and hobbled home, now in agony. It felt like someone had stuck a knife in my back, that I’d forgotten about it, and just left it there. In the middle to the lower part of my rib cage, on the right hand side, it felt like someone had punched me as hard as possible, and this pain had radiated to my lowe back around my kidneys. For the first time, I watched Gossip Girl without interest. Which is dire.
This morning I woke up with the pain subsided a bit. I was actually a little happy that some discomfort remained as then I knew for sure I wasn’t batty. After a breakfast I uninterestingly stuffed down my throat without even a thought to taste, or hunger, I waited to head to the GP.
I hate going to the GP. I feel like, when I’m rattling off symptoms, that I’m complaining, and constantly quiz myself to see if the pain is that bad. Do I really need to be here? Am I wasting her time? And then the other side of me worries that I’m underestimating the pain, that my tolerance levels are too high and that really, I’m sick. Whilst I sat there, describing all my symptoms, I was as careful as possible not to over-exaggerate, under-exaggerate or be over-enthusiastic (read: ITS MY LIVER!!! I’M DYING!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY UNITS OF ALCOHOL I DRINK A WEEK??!!! MORE THAN THE BRITISH ARMY AT A STAG PARTY!!!!). When the doctor confirmed it was my bladder, I couldn’t resist double-checking the whole liver thing because seriously, have you seen House? Where every single patient of Hugh Laurie, has had liver failure? It doesn’t look fun, does it? The GP assured me that it was most likely not my liver, and referred me to a specialist surgeon from Monday morning.
And now I wait.*
*I was called earlier this afternoon by my surgeon’s secretary who offered me to be admited to hospital on Saturday morning. I nearly had a heart attack. She then called back to say the surgeon had changed his mind because there is no ultrasound equipment available, so I will have to wait for Monday. BUT! If my condition dramatically deteriorats, I should call him. Greeeat. Because right now, I feel like Satan is squeezing my gall bladder like a stress ball, and I’ve been shot in the back by….oh God, who cares, I feel like crap!!!
1 Comment
March 28, 2009 at 12:10 am
Sorry to hear you’re in pain
You’ll have to let me know straight away via email or something how your appointment turns out!! **hugs**
As for me, it’s been like nearly two weeks ago now that I had my fireball ovary attack and I can’t even see my doctor until Wednesday. They don’t hurt anymore (just an ache sporadically), but it’s annoying that Calgary is so swamped that when I need to see my own doctor, I have to wait a week. And the emergency rooms are booked up to 6 hour wait periods.
I did have an ultrasound scan done, though. So, will know the results of everything on Wednesday.