My life or death op (Personal Experiences of Critical Illness)

Member Name: playmate

Product:	Personal Experiences of Critical Illness
Date:	20/10/08 (143 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: It saved my life

Disadvantages: None

When you are 14 the last thing you want to do is spend New Years eve in hospital, and that's exactly what happened to me. It wasn't just any new year though it was the millennium.

Just a warning this review may be a little bit too graphic for the weaker of stomachs, if that's you please do not read as I don't want to offend anyone.

Christmas is meant to be a great time full of fun and happiness, but in 1999 that wasn't so for me. A few days before Christmas I noticed that I wasn't feeling very well, I had a really upset stomach. When I went to the toilet I noticed that there was some blood in the bottom of the bowl. I just dismissed it and never though any more about it. Then the next day I discovered more and more every time that I went, feeling a bit embarrassed I never told anyone what had happened. About 2 days later my mum approached me asking me if everything was alright as she had noticed some blood in the toilet, and that's when I had to come clean. Mum told me that I needed to go and get a check up but I refused point blank as I hate going to the doctors for anything. After about 3 days I got so weak as I was going to the toilet at least 15 times a day and all that was coming out was blood.

I eventually agreed to go to the doctors, they did a lot of blood tests to find out what was going on. After I got home, about an hour later I got a phone call from the doctors surgery telling me that a nurse was coming for more blood as the last batch had clotted really quickly, so it couldn't be tested. The nurse appeared and took some more blood from me, by this time I was beginning to wonder how much I had left. The next day we got a cal telling me that I needed to get into hospital as quickly as possible, as I was so low on blood I needed an emergency transfusion or I wasn't going to survive much longer.

By this time I was really scared and didn't want to go anywhere, my Auntie showed up and basically picked me up and bundled me into her car. Down at casualty they had a bed all ready for me and were just waiting on me to show up so that they could check my blood again to make a match. I was told if I had waited another day longer I could have died, my blood was that low.

Finally after a few hours of searching they managed to find enough blood for me. It wasn't the easiest task as I needed so much and my blood type is A negative, most people are A positive.

After my blood transfusion I felt much better with more strength, It was amazing how fast it made me feel like that, but it was short lived because by the next day I had nearly lost half of the blood they had given me.

I was put on iron tablets immediately, and taken down for a procedure using an endoscope the next day. This was inserted in my bottom to check my intestines and a biopsy was taken. I remember that night lying in my hospital bed thinking to my self, why me, and what was wrong with me. Then I realised that it was New Years eve. It didn't matter how hard I tried I just couldn't stay awake and I fell asleep at 11.30pm. Before I knew it the nurses were coming into my room shouting Happy New Year. I had slept through the whole thing. It only happens once every hundred years and I missed it!

Another 2 days later I got the results of the biopsy and the news was broken to me that I had Ulcerative Colitis (U.C here after). I didn't have a clue what it was but it still hit me hard. It was explained to me that my large bowel has lots of little ulcers on it that are basically bleeding, and will have to be removed to stop. The nurses told me that it was the worst case of U.C they had ever seen, as it normally takes months if not years to develop to the stage that I had and was normally treatable with steroids. But in my case they couldn't use them as it wouldn't make one bit of difference.

After this really big shock I was then told that if I didn't get an operation to remove the infected part of bowel I would end up dying as they could not replenish the blood as quickly as I was loosing it . I was so stunned I don't even really know what happened after that for the next hour or so. Because I was so young it was my mum and dads decision if I was to have the operation, and we all agreed that it was the best thing to do.

Because I was only 14, I was to be transferred to the Sick Kids Hospital in Edinburgh, where I was to possibly have my operation, this was scheduled for the next day. Everything was moving really fast that it didn't really have time to sink in, before I knew it is was through in the Sick Kids being introduced to another doctor, Mr Wilson. They explained what my operation entailed. I was to have the bad part of my bowel removed and the healthy part was to be given a rest for a while, by having a 'bag' attached to my stomach. This meant that I had to have a small part of my intestine outside of my body and the bag was there to collect my bowl movements as I couldn't go to the toilet normally until my bowel had healed. All that kept running through my mind was that I was going to be a freak, and that I would never be normal again.

I later found out that because my case was so severe, I was being transferred to the Western General Hospital, also in Edinburgh, for my op. I was really scared as this was an adults hospital and it meant that my family couldn't stay with me like they had in the Sick Kids. The first time I meant my surgeon Mr Hamer-Hodges (HH here after) I was really worried as he looked scary. Who wouldn't be though, your meeting the man that is basically going to cut you open and cut out half of your intestines. I had nothing to worry about though, he is a really nice man that I basically owe my life to.

After speaking to HH my operation was scheduled to be done later that week. He explained what was going to happen to me again, and said that I had nothing to worry about. After he left the room one of the nurses came in and informed me that I really had nothing to worry about as I was in the best hands possible, HH was the first ever surgeon to perform this procedure and was the best in his field. This made me feel a whole lot better knowing that I had to put my life in this mans hands.

When I woke up after my op, I had a morphine drip to try and stop the pain. The first thing that I did when I woke up was to have a look at the 'thing' that was on my stomach. I though that I would be really disgusted, but I was actually really fascinated by it, its not every day that you get to see your own intestines is it?


I was told that I would need to keep my bag for a year so that my next operation to reverse the bag wouldn't interfere with my school exams etc. so I decided that if it was going to be with me that long, I better give it a name. my friend decided that it looked like a raw beef olive (sorry if you like them!) so I decided to call it Olive. At least now if I was referring to it no-one outside of the family or close friends would know what I was talking about, and I wouldn't get embarrassed if someone had asked it was doing.

I also contracted Septicaemia when I was in hospital, if it wasn't enough to be told that you could die once it was to be told it again, and that if they didn't get me antibiotics quickly that's exactly what could happen. All I kept thinking was if it happens it happens, I cant change anything. Buy my mum on the other hand was freaking out, which was understandable. But luckily I was well again within a few weeks. It was a scary time I have to admit.

I stayed in hospital for nearly two months on this occasion, as I was really weak and needed to build my strength up before I could leave. I was also given steroids to help with this, but all they did was give me the munchies, I just kept eating and eating.

After the year was over and I had passed my exams I was scheduled for my second operation. This time I was to have Olive removed and placed back inside, connected to the muscles in my rectum, so that I could go to the toilet normally again. I really had mixed emotions, in one sense I was going to miss her, but on the hand I was ready to go back to 'normal'. On this occasion I was only in hospital for a matter of 2 weeks and then I was allowed to go home.

It has been nearly 8 years now since my last operation and I feel wonderful, I also met my fiancé when I had Olive, he knew all about her and he still fell in love with me. We are getting married next year, and I cant wait.

I really wanted to write this to let other people know who may be going through the same thing that you are not alone there is plenty of support groups out there, and you can live a normal and happy life.

Also if there is anybody out there that is not sure whether to go ahead with the operation, it was the best thing that I ever done and I wouldn't have had it any other way so go for it.

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