I was right. But it's not the kind of right where you bask in the satisfaction of being proven correct. Rather its more of the sinking realization of what you didn't want to be true actually happening.
Remember in my previous post where I said that we had figured out what was going on with James? well my hunch was correct. There was something else going on.
Friday morning he woke up in absolute agony. He woke me up because he was moaning so loudly from the bathroom. I got out of bed and asked him what was going on- asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital. He said no, I don't know. I told him to try eating something and take more of that damn fiber medicene.
About 15 minutes later I heard him yelling for me in the kitchen- I jumped out of bed and he came staggering in the room and fell in my arms crying because he was in so much pain. It was a pretty frightening thing- I was freaked out and I'm sorry to say I didn't handle it so well. I was pretty harsh with him trying to get him to figure out exactly what he wanted and how I could help him.
I decided to take him to the doctors as soon as the office opened. We got there about 5 minutes before they opened the office- He signed in and we waited for about 10 minutes in the waiting room. Once we got in the doctors office I told the doctor (a different one from his normal doctor, thankfully)everything that happened in the last week and what his regular doctor had told him, that he just needed more fiber and that he was constipated. This doctor examined him for all of two minutes, wrote a hasty note out and told me to rush him straight to the ER.
I drove right to the regional hospital which thankfully is a five minute drive from the doctors office and dropped him off at the door to the main entrance. It only took me a few minutes to find a parking spot, but in that time they had taken him right back into the ER. No waiting for him- thank god it was so early in the day. We only had to wait a half hour in the ER to be seen, which is no time at all for Ireland.
He was poked, prodded, blood was taken, an IV was hooked up. We waited for the blood results. The ER doctor was hoping that it was a simple infection in the lower colon. Blood and stool results were inconclusive. So then an X-ray was taken. That was inconclusive as well. Big names were being thrown around like Crohn's Disease and diverticulitis.
We were there about 4 hours at this point. The doctor told us he was having a gastrointestinal surgeon coming to look at him. They weren't sure exactly what was going on and he is so young to be having these kinds of problems they wanted to be really sure before telling him it was something it might not be.
Finally later on that day he sees the surgeon, more poking and prodding much to James' displeasure. But thankfully he was on painkillers at this point and in quite good spirits considering the circumstances. They said that it seems to be diverticulitis. But hes so young, they aren't sure and they won't be until they have a CT scan of his stomach.
They then decide after about 7 or 8 hours to check him in and keep him in overnight on observation. He was taken up to the trauma unit and put in a room with 6 other men. He had plenty of fluids and antibiotics flowing in his system and a 9 hour IV bag for the night. He was so dehydrated since his family doctor gave him medicene which induced diarrhea, which was making whatever was going on with his colon even worse than it should have been.
I left the hospital yesterday around 9pm- I got home 12 hours after we left the house in a rush. Completely exhausted and shell shocked. I'm happy that he was taken in and checked out. I KNEW something was wrong. I knew it wasn't fiber. fiber my ass.
I went and saw him today at the hospital- They decided to keep him until monday. He is on a stict no food fasting. only water- not even tea. He is feeling well enough to bitch about not eating, and bitch about his "room mates" not finishing thier dinners- HAH! I went to Tesco and bought him some flavored water for his "dinner".
I feel horrible about leaving him there in that room, I hate that he isn't home with me, I hate being here alone all night and I hate the most that he is ill. I hate that my sneaking suspicions were right. and I hate that his GP was quick to diagnose him with consipation and lack of fiber when he had symptoms that are unusual for someone his age.
They are pretty sure that he has Diverticulitis. The surgeon told him that if it walked and talked like it, then that is what it probably is. They won't say for sure until they have that CT scan which will be sometime next week. But realistically- that is most likely the case. James' dad was diagnosed with it just a few months ago. But he is in his 50s- the normal age range for someone to get it. James is about 30 years too young. It just worries me because I know now that he is going to have to make some major changes or face consequences like major surgery or a colostomy bag.
Don't get me wrong, I know this isn't the end of the world, and I am thankful its not more serious than it is. Its still upsetting though and its definately an unpleasant reality check.
I'm just looking forward to getting some answers and information and of course getting James home. And I'm hoping our string of bad news has run its course early in 2011 and things will go onward and upward from here.