The last two months of my life–my actions, my conversations, my thoughts, everything–have been consumed by a tiny little organ in my body that most people pay little or no attention to unless they are forced to. I was forced to very suddenly and with no warning.

 

Here’s the background:

It started on a Thursday morning in mid-September. I woke up with really bad stomach pains, which I attributed to a late meal from Tijuana Flats the night before. I’ve always had a sensitive little tummy, so stomach pain has been a pretty normal part of my life. Mexican food and sensitive stomachs are a bad combination, but I, unfortunately, L-O-V-E Mexican food.

But the stomach pain got worse, and it was constant. I have a pretty high pain tolerance and an aversion to seeing doctors for things like a stomach ache, plus I was extremely busy at work and with teaching. So I did my best to ignore it. Except for when I couldn’t ignore it and was tempted to have Ben take me to the emergency room. After nine days of pain, I finally made an appointment with my doctor on a Friday morning, and she ordered blood work to see if it gave us some answers.

It was later the same afternoon when my doctor called me. I figured it was kind of serious when the doctor herself called, because typically the nurses do the calling. My blood work showed pancreatitis, a severe and very painful inflammation of the pancreas. Typically caused by excessive alcohol (which is not my problem) or gall stones (which turned out to not be the problem either), pancreatitis is a pretty serious thing. The doctor wanted to admit me to the hospital, but agreed to let me stay home since she was on call that weekend. I was restricted to clear fluids for several days before going in for a cat scan on Monday morning.

That weekend sucked. Let’s just say this: I am a big fan of food. I am not a big fan of chicken broth and Jello for 4 days.

After the initial diagnosis, I was referred to a GI specialist. He wasn’t really convinced it was pancreatitis, so he ordered more tests which went on to confirm that it was, in fact, pancreatitis. Since then I’ve had a cat scan, an endoscopy, an MRI, a gall bladder nuclear scan and lots of blood work. I’m on a low-fat diet, so I can’t eat anything greasy, fatty or spicy allowed. I’m technically not supposed to be drinking coffee, but those of you who know me know that I have a small coffee addiction. I have been limiting myself and sticking to decaf only.   I know very quickly if I’ve eaten something that I shouldn’t have. And there have been a few times when I’ve knowingly chosen to eat something that I shouldn’t (i.e., Chick-fil-A nuggets). And I always regret it afterwards.

 

So that brings me to the now:

The pain has diminished considerably, which is a huge blessing. It’s now a mild discomfort that is tolerable. It’s frequent, but not constant. The diet is inconvenient and pretty much limits me from eating all of my favorite foods (pizza, tacos, Chick-fil-A), but I have dropped a few pounds which is one positive thing about it.

This past Thursday, Ben and I went to see the GI doctor again to get the results of my MRI.  When I was on vacation in Michigan and Indiana a couple of weeks ago, I called the office to check on the results, so I already knew that the MRI was “unusual,” which is not really what I want to be when it comes to my body. I want to be usual. Normal. Run-of-the-mill. I was hoping for answers, but I really only ended up with more questions.

The MRI showed a small oval mass in/on my pancreas. I’m glad Ben was there to pay close attention to the doctor, because when the doctor said “mass on your pancreas,” my mind automatically went to “I have a tumor,” and I got a little distracted. I checked back into the conversation after an initial moment of panic. The doctor doesn’t know exactly what it is. It could be a mass of fatty tissue. It could be a cyst. It could be some other things that I can’t pronounce or remember. When I asked if it could be a tumor, the doctor said that he would be very shocked and that it was highly unlikely. I wanted him to say that it was a complete impossibility, but he didn’t. I guess if he definitively said it wasn’t and then it turned out to be, there would be some serious issues to deal with.

 

So here’s what’s next:

I have an endoscopic ultrasound scheduled for next Tuesday.  While under anesthesia, the doctor puts the endoscopy camera back down my throat and through my stomach to the pancreas. It will have an ultrasound probe attached so that the doctor can get a better look at the mass. He may or may not put a needle into it to draw out some cells for a biopsy. After that, I spend more time waiting on results. The waiting part is very frustrating.

So when I said that this pancreatitis deal has consumed my entire life, I wasn’t exaggerating. I have to think about every single bite of food I put into my mouth. I have to figure out what I can eat at restaurants and what foods to buy at the grocery store. I have to deal with daily discomfort. I have to miss work for appointments and procedures. I have to work through the frustration of having my life completely interrupted and inconvenienced.  People ask me daily how I’m feeling, what the test results showed, etc. I’m extremely grateful for how encouraging and supportive people are, but so many conversations in the past 8 weeks have centered around this topic.

I want normal. I want routine. I want to eat Mexican food.

When I have a problem that I can’t fix, I get very frustrated.  I like to figure out the problem and remedy it as quickly as possible. But I can’t really fix this, and I find it extremely frustrating. It’s been eight weeks!  It’s very discouraging. All I can do is eat the right foods and wait. Patience is not one of my strengths.

Right now, I’m trying my best to stay rational and not to worry. I’m trying not to let my mind wander to the worst thing it could be. I’m trying not to make a mountain out of a molehill. I’m trying to carefully balance the advice of friends and families with the wisdom of the doctor.  I’m trying to get back to normal as much as I can. Last night, I ran the weekly Fit Niche Pub Run (5K) for the first time in 8 weeks. That was huge for me, because exercise is such an important of my life. I wasn’t fast and I had to walk a little bit, but it felt great in the end.

I can’t ignore my angry pancreas. I can’t pretend like everything is fine. But I can do my best not to let my whole life revolve around it for now.  Not to let the word “pancreatitis” creep into every conversation. Not to complain when I want pizza instead of salad. Not to let my mind wander to the “what ifs.”

In the meantime, I would appreciate your prayers. Prayers for complete healing. Prayers that the doctor will get this settled soon. Prayers that there is an easy solution. Prayers for patience.

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