Diagnosis: Sphincter of Oddi dysfunction type II, which means I have all the "classic"symptoms (severe recurrent pain, nausea, and vomiting), they've eliminated more obvious diagnoses, ie cancer, hepatitis, etc, and I've had at least two cases of elevated liver functions.
Solution: A procedure called an ERCP. I don't want to explain, so here's a link.
So, basically they go in and cut the sphincter that is causing the problem, and double check to make sure there are no stones in the bile duct. I had that done Friday morning.
The Upshot - This ERCP might be the solution to all of my problems.
The Downside - A small possibility that I might develop pancreatitis and end up spending a couple of days in the hospital.
Just my luck...
I went in, had the procedure done, they got my pain under control and sent me home. I'm home for a couple of hours feeling fine, then some pain starts creeping in. So, I do what any sensible person would do and take some pain and nausea meds with some water - first and only thing I've had to "eat" since Thursday night.
A couple minutes later, I'm getting pretty uncomfortable, so I decide to hop in a warm bath to see if that makes the pain manageable until the medicine kicks in.
15 minutes since the first little nudge of pain, I'm curled up in a ball on my bathroom floor contemplating the death I feel is immanent. I crawl to my phone, speed dial my husband who let's it ring just enough to let me think my final words to him are going to be immortalized in a voicemail message, but he picks up and I scream at him to come home now because I'm dying and he needs to take me to the hospital!!
Longest car ride of my life, followed by a wait of what felt like hours. I think (and I'm not exaggerating) there were 8 kids under the age of 10 in that waiting room, and their various parents were letting them run hog wild and SCREAMING! I told Eric to take me home because I wanted to die somewhere QUIET!
Luckily, they took me back then. My doctor came in, I don't remember his name but he looked like he was fresh out of Jr High. Regardless, he was a very nice, competent doctor. They drew labs, and eventually after I had been writhing for almost two hours, they gave me pain meds and fluids.
Then, my nice doctor walked back in and said, "Your pancreas is very angry!" He informed me that a normal amylase is in the 200 range. Mine was in the 1600 range. So, yeah, angry pancreas!
They can't give me medicine to treat it. The solution is to be admitted to the hospital for a couple of days, nothing to eat or drink, massive amounts of IV fluids, and control my pain and nausea until my pancreas calms down.
I'm just thinking of my pancreas as a teenage girl, and we pissed her of by messing around in her "room" and now she is pitching a "BF" and she is grounded with no "friends" (food) or "TV" (water) until she can calm down and learn her lesson. That turned it to be a fantastic analogy.
Anyway, that is why pancreatitis SUCKS!!
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