I have had experiences with this same stomach pain in the past. It came and after a few hours, it also went away. So, I was no stranger with the said kind of stomach pain.
September 26 (Saturday)
I suffered immense stomach pain in the morning. I didn’t know what it was but it felt like there was a trapped gas in my stomach but could not just pass it out. At about 9pm, I asked our company nurse to give me a pain reliever (injection) and stomach pain treatment. The pain went away.
September 27 (Sunday)
The pain gradually resurged in the morning. I still reported for work but went to Fakhry Hospital. This hospital was what I requested because all my medical historical records are there. Since I felt the pain to be severe already, I wanted to be “admitted”. But the doctor in that hospital only gave me a prescription for ulcer. I went to my room to take some rest and observed the progress. I really thought the stomach pain was really due to ulcer.
However, the feeling of being bloated seemed to increase, and so was the pain. At 1:30 pm, I asked our company nurse to take me back to the hospital for “admission” because I felt the pain to be extremely excruciating. This time, he brought me to Assalama Hospital, in accordance to the instruction of my boss. This is our insurance-accredited hospital. We arrived at the hospital at 2:00 pm and the Emergency Room said that they could not admit me since I came from another hospital. They said I had to see first their specialist who will be arriving at 4:00pm. There was no way but to oblige. Even if my stomach seemed to explode, I waited for two hours.
At 4:15, I was finally attended by the specialist doctor. However, the doctor just gave me medicines for trapped gas and again, I was asked to “go home” in spite of the excruciating pain. I even asked him if it was OK for my company nurse to inject me with the pain reliever to which he replied, “No need. You should be ok after you take the medicines.” At this point, the overall frustrations started to overwhelm me. It seemed no one really understood I was writhing in pain, and nobody took seriously my situation.
When I arrived in my room at about 5:00pm, I hurriedly took the “stomach gas” medicine and observed. But there was still no improvement. Ironically, I could not even pass gas nor go to the toilet. And worse, the pain worsened.
I called up our company nurse and asked him that this time, I should already be admitted to Assalama Hospital since I found no relief with the “gas medicines”. It was about 8:00pm when we arrived in the hospital.
I thought I could finally be given the attention and checks needed. But another glitch occurred: The hospital needed an approval FIRST from my insurance to allow me admission. Again, with my stomach in so much pain, I waited – in the lobby of the hospital!
At 9 pm there was still no approval. I didn’t know what to do, how to go about my unbearable situation, I tried to ask the nurse from the ER if they could just allow me to lie down in one of their beds. The nurse at first hesitated saying that my “trapped gas” specialist has to see me first. I went back to the lobby. After a few minutes, and maybe struck by her conscience seeing me in such a hopeless situation (the nurse was a Filipina), she gave me a bed and asked me to wait for the “trapped gas” specialist. If he came, (and she mentioned to wait for 10 minutes, according to the instruction of that killer doctor), she could inject me with a pain reliever. With what I heard, I thought I had seen light at the end of a tunnel.
But it was just in my dreams. The doctor never came to see me but instead instructed the nurse to inject me with the stuff - two hourse after he said he would come in 10 minutes! I waited that long and all he could say was to go ahead with the injection.
After the injection, I felt a temporary relief again. I could stand, talk, and I waited for the damn approval from my insurance.
It was past 10 pm when the nurse said that I got to go home and return at 8:00 am of the following day (Sep 28, Monday) because they could not assure me that the approval for my hospital admission could come on that night. So again, I went home so frustrated. If not for the pain reliever given to me that night, I wouldn’t know if I could bear the pain.
September 28 (Monday)
At 5:00 am, I already felt the resurgence of the same intense pain in my stomach. But I waited until 7:30 am when I and driver leave for the hospital. We arrived there at exactly 8:00 am.
I thought that the approval was already sent and all I would do is to go directly to the ER and be confined. But it did not happen. Again I was made to wait in the lobby, writhing in pain, grasping my bag against my abdomen. I asked the nurse if I could lie down in one of their beds but I was declined owing to other female patients who were in their ER at that time. So, the excruciating wait…
It was past 10:00 am when I felt I could no longer wait for the approval. I asked the nurse if they would admit me if I will give just them a cash deposit from my OWN POCKET so the doctors can attend to me and give me the necessary checks and attention. The Filipina nurse helped made inquiries for me and I was also told that the money could be reimbursed when the approval arrives. It was a positive development. The only thing was that I had only SR 1,000.00 and the deposit was SR 1,500.00. So I went to the cashier and pleaded if I can give only SR 1,000.00. The cashier approved.
So then, the admission proceeded. But I had to go first to another specialist (my gas specialist was a 4 pm doctor and was not yet around). Again, I waited for maybe another half an hour since that new doctor was in the ICU. But I seemed to like him because he attended to me right away upon his return as if he understood how serious my condition was. I thought I finally found a really “specialist” doctor. He prioritized me first in spite of another patient who nagged him, he provided me a wheelchair, and sent me hurriedly to the X-Ray, and the ultrasound. It was in the ultrasound when I heard the technician saying I got polyps in my gall bladder area. Of course, it was not good news (I think they use the term polyps to indicate that they find a mass or something). But nothing was better than to understand the real cause of my severe stomach pain after all those misdiagnosis.
After that, I was wheel-chaired to my room. I was given medication and pain reliever injection for temporary relief. At 4:00pm of that day, my surgeon came telling me that I had to undergo an operation the following day, September 29. It was expected and I went to some extent of myself asking to be ready.
But then again, there was a catch: the damn insurance approval this time, for operation. But I admire my surgeon. He said that with or without approval, the operation should proceed. And it will be made at 4:00 pm.
In the middle of my pain, I felt a sigh of relief. In spite of the fear, it was a better feeling.
September 29 (Tuesday: The Big Day)
The whole day was focused on the upcoming operation. It was like the pain in my stomach was overwhelmed with the thought of having me lie down under the operating table, surrounded by people who will cut it open, or shall I say, insert some things into my abdomen. At 3:30 pm, an Egyptian man came to my room and shaved me. Next came a female nurse cleaning the inside of my navel. At 4:00 pm, I was brought to the operating room. There was a brief “how-are-you” greeting from my surgeon and with my observation, I learned that many members of the team were Filipinos.
“This is it!” I murmured to myself.
Anyway, I was made to inhale something and that was all I remembered. When I woke up, I was briefly disoriented and felt dizzy. I could see the smiles of all the team members who surrounded me. When they moved me back to my ward (maybe four or five of them), I checked on the wall clock and it was 8:15pm. I reckoned that the operation must have lasted for 4 hours?
As I arrived in my room, they gave me another bp. To my astonishment, the nurse seemed to gag at the result. It seemed all their eyes were questioning. And the next thing I knew was that they frantically rushed me back to the OR, and when I was there, they took my right arm, injected and injected on them. I could still hear clearly the heart monitor saying “Tot! Tot! Tot! Tot!” like those in the movie where the character’s life is in high peril. That alone made me all the more nervous.
Later, one of the nurse shouted, “It’s ok now!” I didn’t know what it meant but anyway, it made me feel better. Then they returned me to my ward again. I later found out from the nurse that immediately after my operation, my blood pressure went 80/40 and so the panic…
So now, I am recuperating. I hope and pray that things will be better (and my meneire’s won’t attack) and I can resume back to work.
Thanks to all who sent me their concerns and their prayers. I wouldlike to especially thank my PL friend “J” who went all the way to visit me to the hospital.
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