Was my “rumbly tummy” that I experienced a few weeks ago some sort of early warning of what was to come? Maybe so.
I’m dealing with yet another case of diverticulitis. This the fourth case I’ve had in the past year: April 2015, July 2015, and December 2015 were the earlier ones. I knew for sure it was diverticulitis when I kept waking up in pain last Monday night. Luckily, I have plenty of hydrocodone on hand from the last bouts.
When I saw the nurse practitioner Tuesday afternoon and got the diagnosis, I cried. I’m so tired of this. I do everything I’m supposed to do: eat lots of fresh and fibrous veggies, fruit, and whole grains, drink lots of water, and exercise. The last bit had been curtailed due to my December surgery, but I was getting back into hiking again and taking a yoga class. I had just made a yummy batch of banana muffins with oatmeal and walnuts the Sunday before, and here I was unable to eat them.
I know the drill so well by now. Liquids only for the first 24 to 48 hours. I had made sure that Tuesday to consume only water, lemonade, and black coffee. (Guidance on whether coffee is OK is mixed, but it’s mainly the caffeine that is the issue, and I drink half-decaffeinated coffee at home.) On that first day, I went to the hospital lab for my blood draw, then picked up the antibiotics and started taking them.
There are always two antibiotics for some reason. There is some variation in what can be prescribed for the one, but there is always Flagyl. Always. It’s a horrible drug, and is very hard to take three times a day because it makes me nauseated. I can’t tell if the bouts of nausea that sometimes wake me up at night are from the Flagyl or the diverticulitis, but does it really matter?
On the second day, I vomited my meds in the morning. I simply could not keep the evil Flagyl in my stomach while consuming only liquids, so I nibbled on a piece of baguette I had left over from the weekend. I rarely keep food like that in the house since I don’t eat it on a regular basis, but luckily I had entertained the weekend before and had half a loaf left. I had to go back to the doctor’s office to see the doctor and get confirmation of my diagnosis based on my bloodwork. As if there was any doubt.
The internal medicine doctor was almost chipper and friendly as she showed me my lab results (elevated white count and inflammation markers, of course) and she prescribed an anti-nausea med for me. I’ve taken it a few times, but it knocks me out and makes me pretty loopy, so it’s not something I can take regularly, unfortunately.
This particular bout seems worse than the last one in December. Or maybe I’m just still not fully recovered and not up to fighting it as hard. For whatever reason, I don’t feel like I’m healing as quickly as I used to. I still have pain occasionally, especially with certain movements. I’ll turn in my sleep and wake from the pain I’ve caused myself. Or I’ll wake up with nausea and lay there hoping it will pass so I don’t get sick on the bedroom carpet. This morning I drank two cups of peppermint tea before I could even think about trying to put anything (even toast) in my stomach. Then there are the bathroom issues. *sigh*
The doctor asked if I had seen a specialist, and I noted that, ironically, I had a follow up appointment scheduled with the gastroenterologist at the end of the month. We should have a lot to talk about. I can’t take this anymore. I see another abdominal surgery in my future, but first I need to get this infection gone.