Pancreatitis

The Aftermath of the Hospital

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I was free except that I had to plan any movements that were more than 4 steps and couldn’t muster the strength to do even the simplest things at home.  Thankfully my mother stayed around until she knew I could fend for myself again.

I had lost 52 pounds in the span of 3 weeks.  Yes 52. I started at 273 pounds according to my weight in at the ER and when I had my 2 week checkup I was a mere 221 pounds.  I should probably let everyone reading this know that I am 6 foot 4 and have a large build to start with.  I had not weighed this little since high school.

Unfortunately when you don’t eat anything of substance for a long period, it’s not just fat that you get rid of.  I was weak and looked physically sick.  In addition as I hadn’t been eating my stomach shrank and when I did feel up to eating I couldn’t get more than a third of what I would normally eat in before I felt full.

I was lucky to have good friends to help me thru this.  Some brought groceries over as my energy wasn’t up to a trip to a store plus with wild swings in blood sugar, driving was ill advised.  Others help me get a bit active to try to build some stamina back.  I would walk short distances and was limited to less than a kilometer a day.  This slowly improved with time.

In the end I was slowly on the mend but slow was the operative word….Painfully slow.

Pancreatitis and what It meant for me

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During my hospital stay I got to experience many different things from Hallucinations caused by the wonderful opioids I was being given to an incredibly high blood sugar that wouldn’t move for a few days no mater how much insulin was jammed in me.  One of the more memorable experiences other than my room mate constantly trying to convince the nurses that he needed enough morphine to get the entire city high was an early morning visit from a new doctor.

It was before 8 am on one of the days that had blurred together after I was moved from the ICU.  I woke up from my half sleep to find a new face next to my bed blocking my lovely view of the wall of the building next to mine.  No hello, no how are you, just a look followed by “ well that was stupid hey”.  I was confused about what he was referring too as there was more than one option.  He followed up with you’ve really pissed off your Pancreas and its decided it doesn’t want to work with you right now.  To be fair, not the first person to not want to work with me but I digress.

Dr. Miller as he would introduce himself later explained that my blood work was all out of whack and that he was gonna keep me for a few more days to make sure it sorted itself out.  I had a few question and he answered them and then said he’d be back on Thursday……not a big help as I had no idea what day it was to begin with.

Shortly after I had a visit from a nutritionist who told me I couldn’t eat anything good for at least 4 weeks, maybe longer.  No fats, no sugar, none of my normal diet.  At the time this was fine as I couldn’t even choke down the jello the hospital was providing (just a heads up in hospitals the color of the jello has nothing to do with the flavors…..every color tastes the same).  Next up was a visit from the diabetic teaching nurse.

That was a big shock.  I was 32 and type 2 diabetic.  I was thought how to stab myself to test my sugars and where and when to shove needles to give myself insulin.  This was a pain, literally and figuratively and I wanted it to stop even before it started.

Dr. Miller was true to his word and returned on Thursday.  My numbers had returned to what would be considered acceptable say for my potassium levels.  After some negotiation and one of the best sales jobs I’ve even done, I got him to agree to spring me from my hospital dungeon with a few conditions.

So here I was 32 type 2 diabetic and lost after 8 days in Hospital