I'll live! And I'm not so special, after all.

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It got kinda dicey for a little while there, but somehow I seem to be pulling through. If you've been around at all lately, you may have noticed that I have not blogged for a couple of weeks. 

You would also know that Richard's dad passed away. As we were caring for his parents, we had several weeks of difficulties, during which time I was sick. Then there was the week of the funeral and caring for Rich's mom. I was sick then, too. Sicker, actually.


You see, I had a GI hemorrhage. It didn't seem serious, so delaying treatment was easy to do since there were so many other, more serious, events happening. Then I started fainting. Not fun, by the way. It's kind of weird to know you're going down. And you can't stop it. 

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The fainting happened for a couple days at which point Richard put me in the car and drove to the hospital. Honestly, I had no idea I'd lost that much blood. The first day I got a unit. The second day I got a unit. The fourth day I got two units. One more day and a final unit. Five? Really? I thought it might be a bit much, but what do I know?

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In the meantime, doctors were running every test known to the gastrointestinal tract. I got to drink liquids I hope to never drink again. Ever. Ever. Ever.

My PillCam

Doctors were pretty determined to find the leak. They went up with a colonoscopy. They went down with an endoscopy. They went sideways, thanks to nuclear medicine. They tried X-rays. CT scans. CT contrasts. Sigmoidoscopy. 

In all, ten days and nine tests. I even swallowed a little camera. It's not as bad as the liquid stuff. Honestly, they should have started with the camera.


I was a bit of an enigma for a little over a week. But one very determined doctor finally figured out where the leak was. (I had been telling him for a week and a half. It really was time to believe me. And for the record, I was right.)

It's now been a week since the fix and we've returned home. I'm not so special, after all, except to my sweet, darling husband, who has been the best, most wonderful, caregiver. I mean, I get tired of me.


I've been entertaining myself with Craftsy videos and the birds in our backyard. I think the birds are tired of me, too. I've been trying to sneak up but, well, when a muscle spasm hits, I cry. 

Today I managed to delay taking a pain pill for several hours. I regretted it a little once the pain really kicked in, but it means that I am mending and healing and in no time I'll be back to my old, fairly-ordinary, self. Which, it turns out, is the best self I can be.