We thought it was trapped wind, but as the pain got steadily worse I realised I needed to go to hospital. When I got there, they diagnosed pancreatitis, and they kept me there.
I went in on Sunday afternoon, was on the ward by 11pm, and on a drip for the next 2 days. It was only because I nagged them and because an ultrasound scan failed to spot any gallstones that they let me come home, but I had to go back on Thursday for an MRI scan.
The results of the MRI haven’t come back yet. I’m assuming that the longer they take, the better the news is.
I’m not a drinker at all, let alone a heavy drinker, and they couldn’t find any gallstones (so far), so the gall bladder doesn’t have to come out (so far). We can only assume that a tiny gallstone passed through my bile duct and that’s what caused the pain.
It knocked me about quite a lot. I’m not a sickly person and this was the first time in my life (since I was born) that I’ve ever spent a night in hospital.
My priority was to let my paying clients know what was happening, but everything else took a back seat, aka I didn’t give anything else a thought. My sister was the only other person I told, and only then because she’d been in touch with me about our mom.
The poet cancelled all of his meetings and trips for the week and he’s been looking after me admirably. They wouldn’t let him in the hospital, though. He didn’t like that. The dog was at the vet too on Monday, so he’s had his hands well and truly full.
Apologies for going a bit quiet and for missing all of my blog posts last week. Hopefully normal service will resume this coming week. I’m certainly going to be busy, as it’s a 4-day week too.