Monday 9th September 2013
My sister takes me to hosp and stays whilst I'm admitted to the planned investigation unit. M crys. I still don't realise how unwell I am, but just feel heartbroken to be missing my son's big day. My procedure will be at 3pm, the exact time that his ceremony commences. At 2.45, he texts me to say he's thinking of me and he loves me. The biopsy is painful but over quite quickly, and the staff are just brilliant with their reassurance. I have local anaesthetic but no sedation. I'm hungry from being starved again. I text my son to say I'm sure his gown is better than the one I'm wearing with my bum hanging out. The bloods that they took in the morning are worse again (how much worse can they get?). The consultant tells me he is 80-90% sure that I have auto immune hepatitis and wants to start me on steroids straight after the biopsy. I admire his confidence, but am beginning to feel that we will never know whats causing this. I ask if he is right, what the prognosis is. "It will be a life long condition that will have to be managed". I eat a sandwich whilst on 6 hours bed rest following the procedure. I'm not even allowed to go to the bathroom. I sleep fitfully and look forward to awaiting more results.
No comments:
Post a Comment