As H.K. has observed, whenever one physiological problem seems to reach a solution, another two or three surface. In line with tradition, my intestines seem to be much improved (albeit, not nearly pain-free) and the next anxious battalion has charged.
As I mentioned, the tummeh proper is in a sour state. The mystery infection-which-is-not-an-infection-but-we-want-to-treat-it-with-antibiotics-anyway from November has returned in full glory. And it is allergy season, which my not-yet-recovered immune system is still pussyfooting around like it has no conquering ability.
In english, I was awakened at 3am with stomach pains; I have woken up by pain maybe twice in my lifetime. My half alertness portended a long, also painful attempt to urinate; why does my body think I have prostate cancer? Too tired to make tea or boil water for my hot water bottle, I rolled back into bed as you would imagine Jabba might do could he invoke an angular momentum. There, I pulled the trash can to my side and spent an unpleasantly fuzzy interlude disgorging mucous.
1) I can't eat
2) I can't sleep
3) I cant breathe
4) I can't pee
In good humor:
1) I will be sure to fit into my wedding dress; when I do bother eat something it is only to soften the blow of the prescription smorgasbord, and if I can't hold down broth, rice noodles or Ensure, we have a serious problem.
2) H.K. says sweet funny things when my groans/expectorating pseudo-wake him up
3) H.K. says sweet funny things when my suspining/expectorating pseudo-wake him up
4) the doctor who interpreted my urinalysis prescribed Cipro again, which did not do anything last time this occurred and neither did Doxycycline... so now that Flagyl has failed as well, you would think they'd venture out beyond antibiotic, but darned if they're not going to test every one that exists on me before they're willing to admit that the consistently negative test results actually imply that antibiotics might not be the way to go.
1) the last month or so was spent eating some very lovely (Crohn's legal, mind you) creations and I am grateful to have been able to enjoy that. However, if I don't get to eat anything at my wedding, I'm going to be thoroughly embarrassed in front of 50 people.
2) I'm still going to work every day, but I'm cutting out an hour or two early to work from home because I can only last so long.
3) This is contributing to my sleep loss more than anything, and I'm being good about expelling mucous rather than delivering it to my gut.
4) This is the biggest tub of bologna I have ever dealt with. Seriously? Is this incompetence real?
From here on out, I have decided that the Crohn's Baby and I are teaming up to kick Dr GI and Dr PCP's asses. This is not fair to either one of us.