This is hopefully NOT a pity post, Just the facts… I left the hospital after the GI bleed stopped with no restrictions on diet. Odd due to the fact that somewhere within the GI tract a sore (though not an ulcer) had occurred after three weeks on Meloxicam for an impinged shoulder which caused a serious bleed. One so serious it caused me to drop to my knees too weak to stand, requiring an ambulance trip to the ER and two units of blood…the blood was held off due to my faintly voiced concerns about unnecessary transfusions.
Unfortunately the doctor who prescribed the daily highest dose of the NSAID Meloxicam was too busy to check my history when I visited her due to my frozen shoulder. Those that have had a gastric bypass should NEVER take NSAID’s. This is a fact no one has ever told me in the thirty years after having that awful butchering surgery.
This present sore in the delicate inner lining of my GI tract, most definitely in the new pathway where the surgeon had his fun rearranging my stomach and intestine, needs healing from the eroded tissue due to the Meloxicam, which will take months.
I do take accountability that I gave the surgeon permission via my signature on the necessary forms, but did so without being advised of the true ramifications of the butchering’s hazards and complications, or the support necessary before, during or afterwards. There was none. Surgeons like to operate, it makes money for them along with God-like prestige and it makes money for the hospital and probably some prestige there as well. That’s my opinion, take it or leave it. Trust is not my forte’, nor will it ever be, though I takes leaps of faith now and then.
Maybe the high potency med prescribed to heal the place where the bleed occurred, called PANTOPRAZOLE, (which I might add, gives me headaches, dizziness, and loud noises in my ears, and prohibits acid formation), takes care of the foods that contain acid. Maybe giving up coffee, both caffeinated and de-caf, along with many more restrictions, has not been necessary. I hate tea except when our women friends gather together. Then it’s a quaint ritual I relish, not necessarily the taste of tea itself.
For month now I’ve also given up another simple pleasure, bubble baths. They may cause UTI’s in older woman though my MD doesn’t believe it. I started having them repeatedly after never having one. Did I just say OLDER? My mind feels like 40, my body? About 90.
One thing led to another after UTI number 3. Wipe front to back I was told. So I stretched my arm more than it could comfortably go and that’s when it froze. So finally a trip to the orthopedic MD and the dreaded Meloxicam, only available if prescribed and a high potent NSAID.
Then I tripled up on high yield estrogen products in my breakfast cereal so I could add it naturally to my diet. After googling how to prevent UTI’s that was one of the recommendations. So the ‘do too much girl’ added 6 tablespoons of flax, sesame seeds and nuts to my All Bran cereal.
What was I thinking?
So I developed diverticulitis and two trips to the ER. What fun for the too much girl. That’s what I do, try to fix the problem now, yesterday, and all at once. Patience is a virtue but not one of mine. All of this stemmed from the repeated UTI’s.
No one helped me figure it all out. Doctors are too busy. But more accurately, I learned early on that I am on my own. I need to work more at asking for what I need. Things grow to critical proportions, even life threatening ones, because I don’t ask for help. Or if I do, I do so so meekly no one hears me.
I rebelled this morning after another sleepless night with an aching shoulder that left me sleeping on the couch with a heating pad and a whopping dose of Xanax that I normally reserve for dental appointments. I had coffee relishing every full bodied sip till the last drop, then some more. Time will tell whether my tendency to rebel hurts or helps.
I am an intelligent person though since July and that third UTI I have not acted as one. I get so hyper, terrified really when my body does things that I don’t understand. I do things without reason, helpful intervention, or intelligence. No matter how old I get, my symptoms of terror lucking but nanoseconds away in the shadows exist no matter what I do or how hard I try to calm them. That just is.