Bit of backstory (3) - Who's for a bit of surgery?

Work was... well, work. Not much progress on the house, electricians haven't pitched up but we do seem to have acquired some new ceilings.

So its on with the story.

Now before I start, I'd like to explain my reasons behind documenting this. Its not (I hope) just a way for me to tell the world what a hard life I've had and to allow you all to share my pain. Sure, bad things have happened, but hopefully what you'll see as I get closer to the present is that I'm very happy with my life now. Also, what I want to get across is that through confronting these things I've changed as a person. This change, whether for the better or otherwise has made me who I am and in that respect I have no regrets or resentment. We are all a product of our experiences and the weird twists and turns our lives have taken and it is totally pointless to live a life of regret. Maybe that's just easy for me to say as my life is so good at the moment.

So anyway, I was diagnosed with Crohn's...

What followed was a weird kind of life in limbo. Whether as a weird result of having been diagnosed or (as I choose to believe) simply because I was diagnosed just before my disease got really bad, I seemed to deteriorate quite sharply from the diagnosis (Autumn 2000 I think) through the months that followed (Spring 2001).

After diagnosis, my Consultant, GP and I experimented with a whole cocktail of different drugs. Prednisolone [1] seemed the most popular choice, but I also had a go with drugs that I can only barely remember the names of: Azathioprine, Sulphasalazine, Imuran, all sorts. In addition to these were the various other drugs I took to counteract the side effects: Anti-indigestion remedies, antibiotics, iron tablets, calcium and so forth.

None of these actually seemed to help much. If anything, I was feeling much, much worse. In particular the prednisolone seemed to offer temporary relief but then exacerbate the symptoms in the long run.

I was spending more and more time off work and taking every opportunity I could to work from home. Mornings in particular were the worst - there were countless occasions when I would lock the door and be about to step into my car when I'd have to rush back inside and station myself on the toilet. The evenings usually consisted of me moving randomly around the room in an effort to keep comfortable and the placement of hot-water bottles on the most painful areas. In the end I usually retired to bed where I could wrap up warm in a duvet and be close to the toilet. I seemed to be living primarily on tea and cigarettes.

So it in 2001 I was sent along for a colonoscopy [2]. This meant more bowel-prep, but was made up for through the fact that the investigation was carried out under the influence of pethadine [3].

The result of the colonoscopy was that the Consultant recommended that I had surgery. A right-hemicolectomy [4] to be precise. The pains I'd been having were due to strictures in my bowel. These were caused by build-ups of scarring that in turn narrowed the bowel and led to blockages, pain and discomfort.

So I made the preparations and toddled off to hospital when the time came. Now I'm not someone who has any kind of morbid fear of hospitals, I actually quite like them - particularly the staff. But life as a hospital patient is mind-numbingly, joy-sappingly boring.

My operation went well. The pain killers wired directly into my spine helped. The only problem was that I developed hiccups. Now, hiccups for an hour or so are annoying and either irritating or funny to those around you (depends on your friends). But hiccups for ten days mean that you can't eat properly and can't sleep. It also means that the medical staff will try whatever they can to get rid of them. This ranged from drinking fizzy drinks and back massage, through to spoonfuls of sugar and then through to a drug called metoclopromide. Unfortunately, it was then I realised that I was allergic to the drug. This happened coincidentally when my parents were visiting. It started with a feeling that I was drooling. This progressed to numbness and twitches along one side of my face. Eventually my whole body was spasming. Cue parents being led away and confused medical staff being paraded in front of me before they eventually gave me potassium (I think) and I stopped twitching around like I was in my death throws.

The hiccups were eventually cured by having a radiologist syringe the air bubble out from around my diaphragm. Not easy when he has to navigate between your ribs and has to be careful to only do this in between hiccups.

So anyway, I was discharged and over the next few weeks and months I seemed to improve. Not entirely, but I wasn't sure what my point of reference was to say that I was 100%. As far as I was concerned better was better.

So that was me cured, right? Tune in for the next exciting episode...

[1] Prednisolone is a weird drug to be taking. Its a steroid that seems primarily designed to mimic the effects of going through puberty. It has its more medical type side effects (pressure on the eye ball, thinning of the bones, etc) but the ones that are most noticeable that I had were anxiety, acne and massive doses of frustrated snappiness and moodiness. Driving was a dangerous experience.

[2] A colonoscopy is very similar to the flexible sigmoidoscopy described before, but is carried out under sedation rather than anaesthetic. Its a surreal experience. Its uncomfortable but not really painful. Once you've overcome the embarrassment of being surrounded by medical staff while you have your arse exposed to the air and a doctor pushing a fiber optic camera up there, it can be quite interesting as you get a full colour view of the insides of your bowel. This is not to be sniffed at (sorry, had to put that in there) as its not the kind of thing that many people get to see.

[3] Pethadine is probably the best drug I've ever given. As well as making medical investigations a lot more bearable - it destroys your short term memory, so you alternate between thinking "oh dear, this is quite uncomfortable" and "what was I thinking again?" - it also has some hilarious effects on your cognitive processes. After I'd had my investigation, for example I watched the most surreal football match on tv that I've ever experienced. I felt like Ozzy Osbourne must for the majority of his life.

[4] A right-hemicolectomy is a bowel resection, in this case a removal of the ascending colon. This means that the offending part is removed and then you are re-plumbed back together again. It requires a careful weaning back onto solid food to avoid shocking your system, but after this you should return back to normal.