That very night, at approximately 4 am, the pains started up again. The area just below my diaphragm gave the sensation of intense cramping, and the pain spread upwards around the entire rib cage and shoulders. I was denied the pain relief that I had been prescribed the week before, and offered one that I was allergic too, which was stated clearly on my medical notes. The pain continued to build up, and the nurses on the ward repeatedly rang the doctors in charge of my case, trying to get one of them to come and see me. However, despite the fact that you could hear my screams half way down the corridor, I was deemed to be attention-seeking and unimportant.
At 7 am, I rung Jarred. I don’t think I even said a word, just screamed, but he knew what was wrong and dropped everything to rush over to the hospital. When he arrived, one of the nurses was sat with me, holding my hand. Jarred said he had never seen anyone look so worried and upset before in his life; the nurses believed me and my supposed attention-seeking antics. Jarred sat by the bed and held my hand while the nurses continued to fight my corner against the doctors. At 9 am the pains began to fade, and by 10 am they had virtually gone. I apologise to those on the same ward as me for waking them up, but not one of them held it against me.
It was evening before the registrar showed up again, clearly unconcerned about that morning’s episode, his response being that “it had gone now, anyway”. He then informed that I had a 3 mm gall stone wedged in the lower region of my common bile duct, blocking pancreatic secretions, and that I would be having an endoscopy to get a closer look at it the next day. I had never been so angry with anyone before; had the surgeons checked for further gall stones after removing my gall bladder, which takes only a simple test, this would have been spotted, and I wouldn’t have gone through all the pains afterwards.
To numb the back of your throat prior an endoscopy, which inhibits the gag reflex, a numbing solution is sprayed into your mouth, which tasted like rotting bananas. After some sedation, the camera was passed down my throat, and through my stomach into the top part of the intestine, while I lay on my front on the table. The screens above me showed pictures of the gall stone well and truly wedged at the end of the pancreatic duct. After a few attempts to dislodge it, the doctors decided that they would need to open the duct to pull the stone out. They sedated me to the point of unconsciousness and removed the stone, finding that the stone was in fact 5 mm wide.
A few days after the endoscopy I was released from hospital, although this time I was less confident that the pains would not return. Thankfully, the past few months have proved me wrong, and I was finally discharged from the surgical outpatients clinic a few days ago. While I find the first surgery somewhat comedic, and can laugh at the awkward experience, I still find it difficult to smile when I remember its aftermath.