Part III: Gallbladder Disease
It was at this point that most people I think would tend to quit. Andy and I had tried our best to secure diagnosis and treatment for some disorder that was affecting me, and yet, our efforts were thwarted at each turn. With a heavy heart I turned toward my family and advice from home to help recover from whatever dastardly disease was attacking my insides.
Hope was restored after speaking to a doctor in the States. He recommended a series of blood tests and x-rays that would help determine the extent of my difficulties and hopefully guide some sort of treatment plan while still allowing me to remain in
So, after completing my Neuroscience midterm after only 1 hour (those of you who have never taken neuroscience should scoff lightly at this remark – with 80 questions all requiring some serious second and third order logic and mental capacity, it was no small feat) I proceeded again to the on-campus clinic.
Armed with notes from my doctor and more information, I got to see a different doctor than the one who originally prescribed antibiotics for my virus. After reviewing what I told him, this doctor decided that the gastroenterologist at home was mistaken, and instead of the tests my doctor wanted preformed, I would instead be receiving an ultrasound of my gallbladder in order to rule out gallbladder disease.
Normally, I wouldn’t mind such a simple deviation from the plan, but the fact that he completely ignored everything I had said and just made his own plan, I was a little upset. Additionally, getting an ultrasound required getting an appointment somewhere in the city, taking the bus, getting copies of the exam, bringing them back the next day and hoping the doctor would read them and find the problem.
The last straw had been reached and broken. After consulting several students and family members and doctors, it was decided I would fly to
My mom met me in
The CT went well and the contrast worked miracles on my slow-moving intestines, increasing their secretion and moving fluid very quickly from one end to the other. This adequately prepared me for the new experience in the morning. The endoscopy was pleasant; I don’t remember a thing.
But, as a result of my slow moving bowels and the lack of information from the blood tests and a negative scope and cat-scan, I was given a wonderful medication called magnesium citrate. This works to essentially remove everything from your insides. I can say that after two doses, I was lucky to have insides left!
Unfortunately, after all this work, the doctors in
My mother and I had hit another last straw. We decided to head to
After returning to
After all these tests and all these doctors, no one had found anything. It was suggested I head back to school with some new medications and tough it out until the end of the semester. Since there were only two months left, I thought that it shouldn’t be too hard and that I would be able to handle the regimen of medication and get through it.
What a foolish thought.