WE 11/18/20

M.J Coleman

Based on a true story...

November 24, 2016

Groggy. Confused. Terrified.

I struggled to open my eyes and take in my surroundings. An IV jabbed into my arm was hooked up to a beeping machine. The ticking from the analog clock on the wall echoed in the eerily quiet room.

Hospital. Dammit. 

Thoughts raced through my head like cars on a freeway as I tried to recall the events that led up to this predicament.

I had been in non-stop abdominal pain for months now and had refused to get checked out due to my extreme fear of doctors. Everything I ate came back up with a vengeance. Before all this started, I was about 160 pounds. The last time I checked, I was 112. I was weak and my body was shutting down.

A blonde-haired woman in dark blue nurse scrubs bustled in and approached the beeping machine. She pressed a few buttons and the machine went silent. She turned to me and smiled.

“My name is Sarah and I’m your nurse today. Can you tell me your name and date of birth?”

I looked at her, confused. Shouldn’t she know this already from my chart or something?

She saw my expression. “It’s just to make absolutely sure we have the right patient.”

I nodded and said weakly, “Mikala Coleman, 7/11/96.”

Sarah checked my patient wristband to confirm. “Alright, Mikala, you were admitted around 10 last night. Your mother said you were having severe abdominal pain for a while now and you collapsed. Does that sound right?”

I nodded.

“Ok, Mikala, we drew some blood and it came back with an elevated white blood cell count which means you have an infection. We’ve started you on antibiotics and want to keep you for a few days to monitor you. We’ve also put you on total parenteral nutrition to help with the loss of nutrients.”

I nodded again, my head swimming with the information.

“On a scale from 1 to 10, 1 being no pain and 10 being maximum pain, how are you feeling today?”

“Um…” my thoughts tried to catch up, “10?”

“Ok, I’ve brought some pain meds for you. The doctor is starting you on dilaudid.” 

Sarah went over to the computer on the opposite wall and typed some things into it. Then she walked back over to me and produced a syringe. She hooked it up to my IV and pushed the clear liquid slowly through the tube.

My eyes drifted shut.

**********

December 22, 2016

“Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey!” 

The fluorescent lights flashed on and I quickly shielded my eyes from their scornful glow.

I groaned. “First, you wake me up at 4am and then you tease me with the thought of food. Shame on you.”

The nurse walked over to the computer to put in the details of my medication. “Sorry honey, but the doctor said no food, TPN only.”

I had ended up in the hospital again with the same abdominal infection, but much worse this time. They had put a tube in my buttocks to try to drain it. This was the second week I’d been here.

Amanda turned to walk towards me and held up a syringe. “But I brought you a present.” She smirked.

I dropped my arms and smiled. “You’re an angel.”

“You’re just saying that because I give you the drugs.”

“Yeah, probably.”

I recited my name and date of birth before she even had to ask.

We shared a chuckle as she pushed the dilaudid through, causing my entire body to feel like a giant weight.

“How’s that drain treating ya?”

“It’s a pain in my ass.” I smirked. “Literally.”

She laughed. “Alright, the day shift nurse will be here in a couple hours. Get some rest.”

I nodded as I let the drug take over. 

**********

April 29, 2017

The psychologist told me to relax and picture myself doing something I enjoyed. 

I closed my eyes and imagined sitting on the couch in my living room, eating popcorn and watching one of my favorite movies. Suddenly, a sharp claw-like shadow loomed over my head, ready to swallow me whole.

I sighed and opened my eyes. “How exactly is this supposed to help with my suicidal thoughts?”

Before the psychologist could answer, the surgeon came bustling in, his assistant right behind him. He walked over to the side of my bed. His face wore a grim expression and my heart sank into my stomach, creating a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow away.

My mother looked up at him from her chair beside my bed. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concern. 

I glanced at my mother. I had watched the worry lines in her face deepen and new ones appear over the past 4 months. She had been by my side for 2 surgeries in that time span. Every day, whatever was wrong with me got worse. Every surgery, the doctors left with more questions than before. She was growing tired. We both were.

“Look,” the surgeon hesitated, “there’s no easy way to say this. But your condition is not getting any better. We need to operate before you become septic.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “Operate? Again!?” 

My mother scoffed. “You’ve done 2 surgeries already. How is a third one going to make it any better?”

“...it may not. But if we don’t try...she won’t make it.”

An empty silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket, trying to suffocate everyone within.

My mother was the first to break it. “You told me you knew what you were doing. You promised me in the beginning-...”

The surgeon tried to cut in. “Yes, I know. Her condition-...”

“...that you had every doctor you needed on board!”

“We can’t seem to find any answers, ma’am!”

“You are in way over your head! My daughter has suffered enough!”

As they continued to argue, my eyes drifted to the analog clock on the wall.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Oh god, I thought, that clock is going to be the last thing I hear before I die... 

**********

August 1, 2017

My mother and I were mid-conversation when the foreign doctor in aqua scrubs walked in. This one was new, we had never seen him before.

“Miss and Mrs. Coleman?”

We nodded.

“My name is Dr. Tanlin. I am a gastroenterology surgeon and I have been following your case very closely. Now, we have done 3 surgeries and taken every measure to prevent sepsis. It has been a long and exhausting journey and I know you have questions. But we have finally reached a diagnosis that we think fits your situation, Mikala. We believe you have Crohn’s disease.”

**********

November 22, 2020

Update: It is now 2020 and I have had a total of 5 abdominal surgeries so far. I still struggle day to day with symptoms but for the most part, I am currently in remission. Future complications and surgeries are inevitable as Crohn’s disease is a chronic illness and there is no cure. As many things as this disease has taken from me, it has given me much more in return. I am a stronger individual with a greater appreciation for life and joy, even in the small moments. I am pursuing the career of my dreams that has awakened a passion in me that might not have otherwise been born. I am strong, I am fierce, and I am taking life one step at a time!