Why I've Been Away (Not That Anyone Asked, But...)

This year has really sucked for me so far.

It hit me back in mid-February, right after suffering the same stomach virus twice in three weeks. The Tuesday after Valentine's Day, I started suffering the worst pain I have felt in a looong time. It didn't seem related to my Crohn's, but the level of pain was on par with what I felt after being cut open and having infected intestine removed.

After two years of nothing and a recent colonoscopy that put me in the clear for the next three years, I was admitted to the hospital I work for. The fact that the pain was primarily abdominal led them to believe my bowels were somehow obstructed. Good call. They shoved a tube down my throat to decompress me, which helped deal with most of the hurt overnight.

Of course, now there was a tube down my damn throat. Besides the obvious discomfort, another side effect is that the tube causes two dozen doctors to ask you the same twenty questions when you can barely talk above a whisper without it being painful. The committees and buck passing just to get someone to remove it after it had done it's job was pathetic to watch. It carried over to their deciding when I could start taking clear liquids (I was on an IV for three days) and when I could start taking solid food again. Because of the senseless procrastinating, I never got the meal I was supposed to get without complaining. And it wasn't the fault of the assistants. Just the slow-to-order doctors. Keep in mind that this isn't me bitching about how well a filet is cooked. This is me getting food. Period.

That weekend, I was discharged and instructed to do a jillion followups and take as many pills. On the bright side, I was ready to go back to work the following Wednesday. Finally catching up and getting back on track (before this, there was the breakup with my girlfriend), I was ready to do more work and fix up the apartment I was barely at for months and months.

Then my two roommates pulled the rug out from under me and let me know they were both leaving--one in May, the other one (who I actually like) in June. Only now do I have a shred of hope to fill the rooms in time. I'm just about halfway there, actually, but I am too much of a believer in Murphy's Law to think everything will be fine right away. Not until I get all the checks.

The fact that my apartment worries started with one roommate (who I do not like) complaining about the condition of the toilet upsets me. Without getting into details, the problem was partly due to the fact that I have Chron's, partly due to the fact that our toilet isn't that great. I'm looking to replace it. I just wish one of us stopped long enough to realize that this all could have been fixed without someone making up budget problems and freaking out over nothing. But I'll get into that more after the smoke clears. I still have a lot of held-in anger for being made to feel I need to apologize for having a disease.

Doctors kept asking in the hospital if I was passing blood. God no, I should have said. My roommate wouldn't have ever forgiven me if I had.

At least said roommate was nice enough to not visit me at the hospital. I mean that in the most unsarcastic way possible.

Just saw the radiologist this morning. As near as they could tell, it was built-up scar tissue that started my medical mess. No irritation now, but there most likely was after my two viruses. For now, I'm in the green.

Despite my roommate hunt, I have a feeling I'll be taking a good chunk of the weekend to write and actually think about what I'll read for my Feature on Monday the 12th (more on that later). Everything hit me just as I was at my most productive in years. It felt like I was an undergraduate at Framingham State again, and now I've lost it. Hope it's salvageable.

I'll write more soon. God, I have to at this point.