Enough with the bad pancreatitus news..some good here.

Maybe no one wants to hear this but I've wanted to post this for two years. So here goes. In Jan. 06 I had severe stomach pains while at work as a US Border Patrol Agent. I had one of my co-workers drive me to the hospital. It was in a little Border Town with a population of 1,000 +/- people. The shade-tree doctor (I now think he was a veterinarian) told me I had severe gall stones and said I needed them out ASAP. I was a runner, weight lifter and practiced Brazilian Ju jitsu weekly (I was a health nut) so I didn't have a family doctor or felt that I needed one. So to make a long story short, I had no one to call for a second opinion. He said that I needed to have laparoscopic surgery right then. I was an hour and a half from any major hospital and I felt like my guts were on fire. So I took his word for it and under the knife I went. The last thing I remember before going under is seeing one of the surgeons eating a breakfast burrito and seeing the ghetto box sitting on the counter playing Tejano music. I thought, "Oh $hit..I'm about to see the tunnel of light."

Well while I was playing guinea pig. My wife drove from about an hour away. When she showed up, she said, it sounded like there was a Mexican wedding going on in the operating room with all the music. A nurse came out and told her, "its ok, honey we'll be done in about 30 minutes and he'll be up and around". My wife later told me that she was having the same bad thoughts as I was. Well the bad things started with them over dosing me on the sleeping drugs. I was out for almost 5 hours and they couldn't wake me up. When I finally did, I felt like my head had been used as a speed bump. To make a long story short, they sent me home with a very bloated gut, lots of pain and a fine yellow tinge.
Well, I lasted a week and had actually started feeling a little better so I went fishing with a friend. While we were fishing all of the sudden, it felt like someone had shot me in the stomach with a high powered rifle. I screamed to my friend, ran to my car and started screaming. When my friend arrived, I threw him the keys and said, "Get me to a friggen hospital! Something is wrong" The problem was that we were an hour from the hospital. While in route I can only describe the pain as being on fire or having my guts removed with a hot iron. We called ahead and had an ambulance meet us half way. I stepped out of my car screaming for morphine. The last thing I remember is them asking me why I wanted morphine. I passed out and that is the last thing I remember for 2.5 weeks.
My friend and wife tell me that I got to our local hospital unconscious, yellow, extremely bloated and blood trickling from my mouth (glad I don't remember that). To make a long story short, the doctors there knew what was going on and had me life-flighted to San Antonio, TX to a major hospital. When I arrived, they rushed me into surgery and about four hours later, several doctors came out and told my family that I was the worst pancreatic patient that they had seen and I wasn’t going to make it. They were told to go say their goodbyes.
My wife said when they went in, she didn’t even recognize me. My stomach looked like I had swallowed a basketball, my face was swollen, I was very yellow, un-responsive and life-less. My liver and kidneys had stopped, one lung had collapsed, my digestive system had stopped functioning. I had 7 holes in my stomach 9 in my intestines, several fistulas (sp), I was on life support with a tube running down my nose into my stomach constantly pumping the contents out. The doctors told us later that the doctor/veterinarian on the border had cut my gall bladder in half taking only half of the contents out leaving some stones behind to clog my pancreatic duct. I had been a festering time bomb for a week. I had 23 operations in a six month time period thanks to that fine doctor. I spent three months in ICU. They drained the fluid off my lungs with a syringe four times. I had six tubes/bulbs hanging out of my stomach for six months to drain the puss pockets. I had a team of 12 doctors working on the various parts of my severely “out of order” body.
If you’re not religious, skip to the next paragraph so you can chalk it up to “luck”. My very good family and friends prayed with me every day. I had churches praying for me. People were holding fund raisers for my family. I have always been a staunch Christian man. During my law enforcement career, I have been in gun fights, been stabbed, and run down by a car. I’ve always known that god was watching out for me. But this little snafu brought me even closer to him. I had 12 doctors telling my family, I was going to die. When they finally (scratching their heads) decided that I might live, they told me that I was going to be on Dialysis and a severe diabetic for the rest of my life. Well, after three months, my liver started working and the diabetes went away (those finger pricks were getting a little annoying). They had actually scheduled me for my first dialysis the day that my liver started working again. I still had all the tubes hanging out of me but these little miracles made me decide that God was gonna pull me through. Just when I thought I was going to get out of the hospital, I got a nice little infection. I had central lines in four different locations (both sides of my neck and in both biceps). They think the infection could have come from those. Either way, they put me on some super Antibiotic for several weeks which did the trick. The praying works folks, I don’t care what anyone says. He is listening, talk to him! He’s my bud forever!
I spent three un-interrupted months in ICU and another three in and out of the hospital for the infection, tube adjustments, CT scans, stint removal, etc. I felt like I was a punching bag for a bunch of people. I went in to the hospital a muscular 225 pound man who ran 5 miles a day, bench pressed 350 pounds and came out a 140 pound man who couldn’t walk 10 feet without help. I’m not going to lie, it was a long road back; simple exercises, relaxation, eating again after being fed through a tube for three months, going cold turkey off of pain killer and not being able to sleep for one whole week (no kidding) and trying to gain some weight back.
The reason I wanted to write this message is because like all of you, I came to the internet looking for answers. All I got after lots of reading was more depression. I read story after story of problems, chronic pancreatitis, side effects, diabetes, et al. I would walk away from the computer in tears. THIS IS NOT THE END FOLKS! We still have a life to live. Do what you can and assure yourself that things WILL get better. If you drink, STOP IT NOW. It wreaks havoc on your pancreas. If you eat lots of fatty food like I did on occasion, cut back on them. Give the pancreas a break, let it rest. Life is a fight, we all got knocked down. GET UP and fight. I started working out again, eating good, and doing the things that I love. Two years later and I just had my first son. I have no diabetes, no liver issues, no chronic pancreatitis, etc. I know things might flare up in the future but I’m not worried about it. I have a life to live, I can either spend it worrying or spend it doing what I love and spending time with my family. I haven’t been to the doctor in a 1.5 years. The last time I talked to one of them, he had called to tell me that I was the subject of a paper he had done on acute pancreatitis patients. He said and I quote, “There is no way you should be here. You were the worst case I had seen in 18+ years of seeing pancreatitis patients; you’re miracle” God blessed me with a great wife, great family and friends. I also know that I am not the only one that has a good success story. Remember when reading these forums, that folks are more apt to post their experiences when they are having problems. I personally know two other guys that went through pancreatitis and are doing fine. It took me two years to post this because I wanted to forget it. The other day however while I was at the hospital for my sons birth and saw one of the doctors that had treated me. He asked me to go upstairs and talk to a girl with acute pancreatitis with a bleak prognosis like I had. She (like me) was quite depressed. I spoke with her for over an hour and when I left, I she thanked me and said she too had read some bad things on the net because that’s all there was. She asked that I please go online and post what I had told her. For those of you that are having lasting issues with this cursed disease, you will be in my prayers. Keep up hope, keep fighting and concentrate and the things that you are GOING to do when all this mess is over. One of the toughest things for me was getting out of the Depression after hearing all the bad things that MIGHT happen or COULD happen. Just remember this if you remember nothing else. There is a guy in Texas that had HORRIBLE pancreatitis and the doctors had all written him off. Not only did he recover but he’s back to working out, running, doing his photography, kayaking, and chasing bad guys. When everyone was standing over my hospital bed in tears looking down at my sorry butt, I think I heard God say, “get up son, walk it off…”
You’ll all be in my prayers tonight…
Tweet