Long break! Part One.

Facebook has allowed me to stay in touch with almost everyone, but I still like to write things down in a longer form, so I am going to add at least this one more post.

Since I've been gone, the blog designers have decided to complicate the writing process in an effort to "improve" things. They need to leave it alone, but of course they won't ever do that.

The purpose of the blog is to write things down for myself and others to read. If I wanted to illustrate a book, I'd do that. All I want to do is write, not draw, paint, or design!

OK, the last time I wrote something here, I was a bit confused. I had started to lose weight, but I wasn't dieting anymore. My bowel movements had started to change and were causing me concern.

I was tired, and my dietician told me I needed to increase my iron intake. So, I started taking iron pills daily, and then up to 3 times a day. This didn't slow my weight loss or my fatigue and to top it off, I started to itch. 

I have read many things over the years about medical conditions, but had never run across a set of symptoms like this. I had recently changed family doctors, and wasn't really happy with the new guy. He had no concept of the bariatric obstacles I had to deal with. So, everytime he tried to prescribe something, and I asked him what the coating was on the pill, he wasn't a happy camper.

There is an obsession with doctors today to try to get people to lower their cholesterol to ridiculous levels. I have always had a negative reaction to statin type drugs. They give me joint pain, and flu like symptoms. I am firmly convinced that I wouldn't have gained my weight if I hadn't been taking statins. I couldn't climb stairs. I felt like an old man when taking those pills. So, I wasn't going to even "try" the new statins that just came out. The doctor didn't like that.

Now, I've tried many other treatments for lowering cholesterol, but decided not to bother anymore and again, doctors don't like that.

So, when I started to have these crazy symptoms, I held off as long as I could before going to this guy. I figured he would send me over for endless tests and just tell me I had a virus and give me more pills.

Well, after he interviewed me, he did send me over to the hospital for tests. I decided to try the new hospital since my bariatric surgeon had transferred over. I had no idea what was about to happen.

I have never been treated so poorly in all my life. I was in fear of losing my life there. I was submitted to tests after being checked in, and doctors came and told me I had liver disease and needed a transplant. But, they couldn't tell me where the disease came from, what caused it, or what to expect.

The people who took my blood for tests couldn't get a "stick" when they went for an IV or taking tubes of blood, and in all the years I've been around, I've always been an easy stick. 
There were two times while I was in their hospital where I wasn't fed for two days, and I wasn't given liquids, or even an IV to rehydrate me. 

I did have a visit from the bariatric surgeon who told me I probably needed to have my gall bladder out, but when I told the head doctor that, he just brushed it off.

Then, without any notice, after a week, they sent me home with orders to contact the doctor in about two weeks for a follow up. No mention of the liver failing, or anything else.

I went home feeling totally drained. I was still sick and still had no idea what was wrong. I thought that needing a liver transplant would be a fairly serious thing. But, they just sent me home.

After thinking about my options, I decided I needed help, and another opinion. I spoke with my bariatric surgeon and begged him to find me a doctor that could help me find out what was wrong and fix it. He got back to me and set me up for an appointment the next day with a local surgeon from the "other" hospital.

That surgeon referred me to another doctor who had more experience with diagnosis. 

That doctor reviewed my chart and gave me 3 options:

1. I could go to Hershey where they have more experience with liver disease and transplants.
2. I could go to University of Penn in Philadelphia where they have even more experience.
3. I could go to Baltimore's John's Hopkins where they have similar experience to Philly.

I chose Philadelphia because it is closer to my original home. This doctor took out his cell phone and called a doctor at the hospital and scheduled an appointment for me.

I had to have help getting to Philly because I wasn't in good shape and it was a long drive. I had a friend pick me up who was familiar with the area and he drove me.

After seeing me, the doctor decided I needed to be tested again right away. She arranged for me to enter the hospital, where there was no delay. I don't think I spent more than a few minutes in my room before they took me down for tests. They poked and prodded me. They asked me more questions than I can remember.

The hospital was old, but the team there was amazing.

My medical numbers were so far off what was considered normal as to be surreal.

Cholesterol was 650. I am usually around 250-300.

My blood sugar was so far off that they started giving me insulin and taught me how to inject myself. I thought I would have to be on insulin for the rest of my life. The numbers were so far off.

I was still itching and they told me I had jaundice, which was causing the itching.

After a week, they too sent me home, but this time, I had a diagnosis. It wasn't good, and it scared me to death.

I had a tumor on my pancreas. I had never even heard of a pancreas, but when I looked it up, things got much worse. This was one of the worst diseases I could ever have, according to the websites I saw. I had less than a 5% chance of surviving 5 years.

My doctors told me that if I didn't have the operation they were recommending, I wouldn't live to the end of the year.

So, after losing all that weight from my gastric bypass, losing my wife to cancer, and all the other things that happened to me over the past few years, I was given a death sentence.

To say I was angry was an understatement. I had no one to be angry with. There was nothing I had done to contract this disease. You don't get it by smoking, and I didn't smoke anyway. I also don't drink. So, where did it come from?

So now, you will have to wait until I have the energy to write some more because this entry is finished for now. Stay tuned.