Surgery!

Well, it's happening! I had my doctor's appointment yesterday afternoon to discuss what's been going on in my insides. Todd was very wonderful, and took the day off of work to be with me. We made it to my 1:00 appointment on time, but the receptionist apologized and told us that the doctor was running an hour or so behind schedule. Then she asked if we'd mind waiting, and we said that was fine. We wandered around the hospital complex, including the food court. I was starving! I told Todd that all I wanted was a hoagie sandwich, but I still wasn't able to keep anything down. Finally, at about 3:30 or so, we were able to meet with my doctor. We told him everything that had happened and he gave a quick probe of my belly. By this point, though, the agonizing pain had passed and I was only a little sore when he pressed. He said that it definitely sounded like gallstones, and that he would tentatively schedule me for surgery on Thursday, the 27th (tomorrow!). In the meantime, he wanted me to have the lab do some blood-work on me to doubly make sure that my gallbladder was the culprit.
By the time I got out of his office and my blood drawn, it was already 5:30. My first shift back to work after my maternity leave was supposed to start at 6:00, and I was going to be late. It was raining, and traffic was horrible, so I called work to let them know that I hadn't forgotten about coming back, but that I was going to be a little late, and they assured me that I was fine. I dropped Todd off at the house and hurried to work. I arrived at 6:30, and apologized profusely to my boss. I explained that I'd had a doctor's appointment, and that I'd made it early enough that it never occurred to me that it would conflict with coming to work. She told me not to worry, and that she was glad to have me back. She also told me that if I needed to hold off on coming back for another week or so because of my surgery, she would understand and work with me. I told her, no, the recovery time for my surgery was only supposed to be a couple of days, so I'd recover over the weekend, and be better by the time my next shift was scheduled on Tuesday, October 2nd (I'm only working one night a week right now).
At 7:00, I got a phone call from Todd. I'd only been at work for a half-hour, and was surprised to hear from him. He told me that he had just gotten off of the phone with my doctor, who had given him the results from my lab-work. I did indeed have gallstones, but I was also apparently suffering from acute pancreatitis. My lipase/amylase levels were 3000 times--yes, 3 thousand times--what they were supposed to be. Todd said that my doctor had told him that with levels like that, I should be on the floor dying right then. Then he told me that I needed to come home right then, and we were going straight to the hospital. My head was whirling. At first, I was sure that Todd was joking, or that I was hallucinating. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both. I hurriedly explained what was happening to my boss, and she told me to hurry safely home. I cried all the way to the house and while I quickly packed my suitcase. Todd and my father-in-law gave me a priesthood blessing, and I kissed my babies goodbye. I was so terrified that I would never see them again. Todd drove through the rainy night while I stared out the window and thought about death.
Then, only minutes from the hospital, I had an epiphany: I wasn't afraid to die. I mean, yes, I was afraid of never seeing my babies again, of not seeing them grow up, of not being able to grow old with Todd, etc. I was afraid of not living, but I wasn't afraid of death itself. I figured, even though I've made my fair share of little mistakes, I'd done all of the major things in my life the way the Lord wanted me to: I married my sweetheart in the temple, we had two beautiful little girls born in the covenant, and we were a forever family. If I needed to die that night, so be it. I can only imagine that the peace that flooded my heart along with this epiphany was a result of the priesthood blessing I'd received.
We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and headed to the emergency room doors. Since it was after hours, they were the only ones that were open, but my doctor had called ahead for us, so we didn't need to check-in in the ER. After another, surprisingly long, wait while my room was readied for me, I was taken up to my room. Todd stayed with me while the doctor explained our plan. He was pretty sure that what had happened was a gallstone had escaped into my bile duct and had gotten jammed into the sphincter that leads to the pancreas, closing it off. With my insanely high pancreatic levels, it wasn't safe to operate on me immediately, so we were going to keep an eye on me until my levels were closer to normal before discussing surgery again. The reason I was going to be in the hospital twiddling my thumbs for several days instead of at home was if my pancreas suddenly flared up even worse, it could be fatal before we could get to the hospital so it was better safe than sorry. He thought that it would probably take a week or so for my levels to drop back down, but he kept my surgery appointment scheduled just in case they drop faster than expected. On that comforting thought, Todd kissed me goodnight, and went home to be with the girls and to get some rest before work the next day.
Needless to say, it was not a fun night, but I got what sleep I could. This morning, I got my blood drawn, and I had an ultrasound done to check my gallbladder for gallstones, and to see if we could find the one that had escaped. We couldn't, but we saw the inflammation where it had been, and my gallbladder was full of the evil little things. I told the technician that I'd never before had an ultrasound for anything except looking at babies, and it was a little odd and sad to not see cute little limbs waving around it there. She just laughed, and agreed that that is the most fun part of her job. Back in my room, I got the results of my blood-work, and the lipase/amylase levels have dropped dramatically! They're now only about 500 times what they're supposed to be! Hooray! The doctor told me that if they keep dropping at this rate, I'll be able to have my surgery tomorrow after all! He thinks that Saturday's hellish episode was probably the peak of the crisis, and that not eating or drinking anything was actually the smartest thing I could have done to minimize the issue. Silver linings, right? I'm just excited at the thought of finally being able to eat something after my surgery, so I really hope it's tomorrow! I'm on an IV, so I'm not going to waste away or anything, but I'm seriously craving a hoagie. In the meantime, I'm waiting for my mother-in-law to bring Elizabeth to see me. Evie is staying with Jenette, but my doctor gave me permission to keep Ella in my room with me! I'm so excited to snuggle her warm little body, and kiss her beautiful face over and over, because it seems that I'm not dying after all!