Nearly Healthy and Happy:

First of all, I'm a little embarrassed about my last post and how pessimistic it is. I thought about deleting it. However, it is a post I wrote during a dark moment and it displays honest feelings. I am not going to apologize for it. In fact, that little depressing post just reinforces how far I've come physically--and mentally--in the last three weeks.

In short, the last trip to the hospital was successful. Successful in that they diagnosed a problem and fixed it. From my recent tenure in the medical world, I can tell you that that is a rare thing. I had a bad case of gastritis and gastroparesis. Basically, my stomach stopped functioning. It is a common side effect of this surgery--about 40% of patients experience similar stomach issues. It's likely that I had gastritis for weeks and that was the cause of feeling so sick for so long. (I kind of wish they had caught it sooner, right?) However, a regimen of Prilosec counters the inflammation quickly. Within a few days, I was feeling much, much better. And now I cannot even describe to you the transition I've experienced the last few weeks. I am feeling myself again. I am feeling optimistic and happy. I am not throwing up daily--or more--and I've started to gain the fifteen pounds I lost back. Life is clearly looking up.

Since I'm feeling better than to merely lay on the couch watching Alias all day, I am feeling the effects of being stuck at home in the middle of the summer with no job and with hardly any friends. It literally feels like I haven't seen anyone outside my immediate family for weeks. To say the least, I am looking forward to returning to school in a month.

Thank you, thank you for your love over the last three months. You know who you are. Even the smallest texts asking about my welfare have meant so much. I am frankly embarrassed about the outpouring of love and concern. I feel embarrassed talking about my health, but I know that you ask and you read this because you care and that's why I continue to post. However, I have committed to myself to make this my last post about my pancreatic saga. The surgery is over. I am finally healing well. The likelihood of a return is minimal. Therefore, I am moving on. The blog will return to posts about other aspects of my life and probably to some posts about cats. Which means that I will likely lose all the readers I've gained during this event. But that's okay. I like it better that way.

To end and to finalize the close of this event, here is a picture of my very first day out of surgery and in the ICU. I know I should probably be embarrassed about this photo, but it kind of makes me laugh. And laugh in a oh-my-gosh-that's-so-sad way. Only hours after coming out of the operating room, the physical therapist came in and made me sit up in bed, stand up, and then move to the chair. I first told her there was no way I was moving, let alone bending to sit up when I had been cut into only hours before. I cried. She was relentless. And I finally did it. It was painful. In this picture, you can see the what I had going on those first few days. Including a lovely drain coming out of my nose. Also, you can see how plumped and fatty my little body was due to heavy IV fluids. Yes, this picture is both embarrassing and sad, but for me, looking at it now, twelve weeks later, it's closure.