Surgery is always "fun."

I had an appointment with my former bariatric surgeon today to discuss my gut.  Last Friday, I underwent a CT Scan with contrast in both ends (try it, fun!) and today we were to talk about Why I Was Sitting Like A Pretzel.

I suppose I was a little more than surprised when first, the surgeon asked if I'd changed my name.  I actually did.  In 2005.  I hyphenated.  I took my maiden name BACK and added it to my name.  In 2005. 

Because, they couldn't find my chart.  O-O  However, I seem to recall a conversation about my chart having been purged (last year?) when I went back for a check up, as they "did that with files over five years old," or something.  This was when I asked for files to be "sent" to another hospital, I was told that they were totally off-site.  This was likely last winter?  (I could look back into my archives, I know I posted about it... this was when I was seeking a new surgeon for revision last year!)

I was inpatient in this same hospital, what, two weeks ago?  My brain stabbed at the thought, but I am in a state of "I don't really give a shit at this point, I will be Jane Doe if we don't figure out what's wrong, so I am whoever you want me to be."

Obviously, I haven't been a very-often-seen patient at this practice, to see a bariatric surgeon, my visits have been limited to a few follow ups: an emergency endoscopy last winter, and endocrinology referrals for hypoglycemia after gastric bypass.  I haven't been there for any routine "stuff" at all, because I deal with hematologists, neurologists, endocrinologists and whathaveyou outside of them, I didn't really need a surgeon.  Actually, my last visit to the surgeon ended with a suggestion to see a nutritionist.

I weighed in, and gasped at the number on THEIR scale and sat down.

The surgeon hadn't seen my CT Scan.  He pulled it up in front of me, I squinted to read as much as I could, though I wish I asked for a copy because I know what it's going to take to GET A COPY of it from their medical records department.  "We can't find you."

I saw "Possible Petersen's Hernia."   SCORE!  ANSWER?

He scrolled through my guts, filled with contrast.  He suggested that the CT Scan is not a definitive way to diagnose a Petersen's Hernia, so don't think much of that. 

The surgeon asked if I was aware that I had fibroids.  Uh, maybe I did? <shrug>  Do those hurt?  'Cause, OWWWWWWW!

I was recently told I had a ovarian cyst, so why not!? 

Let's have all the gynecological issues we can find!  MORE FUN!

Upon reading the signs and symptoms NOW at home, "Hey, that fits, too!  Thank you Dr. Google, please forward a hysterectomy!"

And then Beth stops, and plays with Google and researches the history of HYSTERIA!

I told him that I've been pretty much sitting in a pretzel-fashion and holding my guts up on and off for two or more months.  (Yes, the pain started after the alfafa sprout binge in December?)

I mention that I am simply waiting to vomit blood or lose my bowels.  He says that "not necessarily," that you don't HAVE to be very sick to have a problem like this.  I am actually pleased to hear this, because the hospitals have made me feel quite ridiculous since I wasn't retching if something abdominal was the cause of my pain.

He first mentions that if I am to feel anything worse, I should go straight to them, skipping the local hospital next time "because they have no idea what they are looking for."  I agree.

Then, he gets the paperwork prepared for exploratory surgery, to dig through my gut and either prove or disprove that their is something intestinal causing this.   The plan is to be explored, surgically, within a reasonable time frame. 

I hope there is a trigger easily found, and that I'm not going to become a constant cycle of gut pain with no diagnosis, because I don't need that plus my malfunctioning brain.  One or the other HAS to go.  I was actually giving the brain surgery some consideration, but I can't even think about making the appointments for follow-op for the testing and surgery for my seizures when I'm SITTING LIKE A PRETZEL!  How do you screw holes in a head of a person that's squirming into a pretzel?