July Pictures

(Starbucks before my big appointment with my mom- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(Day before the surgery, girls day with my friends- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(The day before my surgery, henna tattoo, the symbol for strength- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(The day before my surgery, feather extensions, I needed all the cheering up I could get that day- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(An hour before my surgery, waiting for IV, Kleenex and teddy bear in hand- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(Immediately after the surgery in recovery, on my way to good health- The summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(Harry Potter premiere, the day after my surgery- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(Overwhelmed with get well flowers, balloons, cards, and candy from Uncle Dave and Aunt Tina- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

(All the beautiful get well flowers I recieved from my mom, my aunt and uncle, and my good friend, Cami- The summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)

July

The day had come. July 11. It was time to go to the OBGYN and hopefully get some answers.


I was nervous, but not quite sure why. Maybe it was because I'd already gone through three months of this with no help or plan of action from doctors. At this point, I would do whatever it took to find some sort of relief.


With time to spare, my mom took me to Starbucks before my appointment. We were both nervous, but with nervous laughter, and lots of smiles, we sipped on our frappucinos. I think we were both silently wondering what would happen. This appointment kind of determined it all. Whatever I was diagnosed with could possibly determine how I live the rest of my life. All I hoped was that I wouldn't have to have another exam!


I couldn't be more nervous sitting in the small room, waiting for the doctor. My mom tried to calm me down with small talk and looking at magazines, but I knew we were both focused on the same thing and equally nervous.


As I described my pain, the doctor looked at me like a deer looking in headlines. She cocked her head to the side, almost in disbelief, that I could be in this much pain. But what to I have to gain by faking something this serious? Why would I make up something that has taken over my life to this level?


She ordered for a laproscopic surgery, as soon as possible, without even bothering with an exam. Tears immediately poured out my eyes. I was scared. During the laproscopic surgery, I would be sedated and then gas would be pumped into my stomach so that they could make an incision for a probe and camera to go down inside of my stomach. The incisions would be small, but they would go all the way through my stomach. I'd feel the usual recovery pain, but after about three weeks I would be back to my normal, happy, healthy self.


On the way home, we got a call that the surgery would take place in two days on a Wednesday, just the day before my friends and I had planned to go to the Harry Potter midnight premiere. I'd never been into the movies, but my friends were and if anything it gave me something to do and a night to get out and see my friends who I hadn't seen all summer. But now that the surgery was the day before, I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it.


The tantrum I threw must have helped my mom make the decision to let me go. I was so convinced I wouldn't be able to go, I had a complete melt down. The one time I got to get out, and it was taken away from me, because of a surgery. Once again I was seeing this illness I was cursed with take away from my teenage years.


The day before my surgery my best friend Brittany, and my friend Ally came over to have a little girl time, and to keep me smiling and happy. We went out to Manitou for henna tattoos and feather extensions and it was just what I needed to keep my mind off of the surgery taking place the next day.


I woke up early the next morning and got ready for my outpatient operation. It looked like we were moving into the hospital with everything we were bringing, but we'd be there for the whole day.


I couldn't be more nervous than I was for this surgery, but the time seemed to rush by. The nurse gave up on my IV in tears, so I wouldn't have to worry about that stress until later on. About an hour before the surgery we were moved into a new room where we met my dad. My parents and the nurses were just trying to keep me happy and keep my mind off of surgery and before we knew it, the anastegeologist was there to put my IV in and a nurse wheeled me off to the operating room.


With heavy sobs and my body shaking like a leaf in the hospital bed, I said goodbye to my mom and dad before I thought I'd have to so that they could put me under for the surgery. Both my doctor and the nurses were very reassuring and nice. I started the countdown backwards from 20 and instantly fell into a state of unconsciousness.


I woke up shaking violently with pain every where. I kept asking if I was okay and how I did and where my mom was. I knew that if I could make myself stop shaking I wouldn't hurt as bad, I just couldn't stop shaking. Once I saw my mom and dad in recovery, it was easier to calm down. They showed me the pictures that the surgeons had taken during the surgery of inside my stomach and told me all the scar tissue that I had in my stomach that the doctors took out.


Instead of the surgery taking one hour, it took almost three for the surgeons to pull all of the scar tissue out. The place I'd been pointing to, complaining of pain, had been my intestine which was completely pinned down by scar tissue and unable to move as it usually would. At that time I was diagnosed with endometriosis.


I didn't know what endometriosis was or how it happened, but I didn't care. I was on the road to recovery and I was going to be okay... So I thought.


The next day, I rested so that I would be able to go to the premiere with my friends that night. I also rested because it's all my body permitted me to do. The surgery pains hurt more than anything. I was so sore. Nick and I laid around on the couch and caught up on Harry Potter movies when I wasn't asleep. Around 9:00, with help from Nick and my mom I started getting ready.


I was hell bent on going out with my friends that night, but it was so hard on me that I just regretted it. I was hurting and swollen, and uncomfortable no matter what I did. I was looking so forward to going out tonight, but it was not all that I expected it to be. Not only were the stares from kids at school and being asked if I was pregnant over and over enough, but I hardly got to talk to my friends because they had chosen seats down the aisle from where I was. I came to this event for them, to see them, and spend time with them, and because this was something that they wanted to do. But all I wanted was to be back home in bed with pain medication, a heating pad, and sweats.


I cried all the way home because the car ride was so hard on me, and no one but Nick noticed, at this point I felt like Nick was the only one of my friends that cared. I was looking forward to being out with my friends that night, but our time together showed me just how much this summer had changed us all. The time apart from my friends had distanced us emotionally, so emotionally, that none of us could begin to understand.


This was a time that I needed my friends, but because I was going through something so above any of us, and they couldn't be by my side 24/7, they just couldn't understand. While I had been in bed with time standing still, their lives had moved on. It felt like we were on total opposite sides of the Earth. I felt completely alone in this journey to good health.


And that hurt more than any stomach pain.

June Pictures

(Because I was mis-diagnosed with a stomach infections, the antibiotics I was prescribed gave me thrush, yum! I had to numb my whole mouth just so I could eat or drink anything, as if stomach pain isn't enough, right!? -Freshman year, May of 2011, this was the last day of school and all of my friends came over to see me after I got home from the doctors for a little party!)

(First evening walk with the wheelchair, my mom and I finally able to take our evening strolls- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(A picture I took of the sun setting behind our beautiful Colorado mountains, photography is one of my passions and being sick has made me almost unable to do one of the things I love to do- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(My boyfriend, Nick, my mom, Jennifer, my little brother, Zach, and I enjoying a day out at the zoo- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(My boyfriend, Nick and I, through the entire time we've been together, I've only been healthy for one month of that time, and I think this was our third official date- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(My boyfriend, Nick and I feeding the giraffes at the zoo- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(My little brother Zach, my mom, and I at the zoo, my first adventure out thanks to the wheelchair- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011) 

(My "little sister," Megan and I, having a girls' day out before more pain came, the day my cyst burst- Summer between 9th and 10th, June of 2011)

(Maybe it was all of the Superman pictures that pushed that cyst to it's breaking point ;)- Summer between 9th and 10th grade, June of 2011)

June

As the pain continued, my hope for my usual happy and healthy life became weaker and weaker as the days passed.

June was a month of what we thought would be my recovery. We were waiting to get back into the gynecologist's office for an appointment with a doctor, however it wasn't until July.

While all of my friend's were out, having fun with summer, I was lying in bed staring out the open window. This was when a little bit of my depression began. I felt sad. I felt mad at myself for being sick with who-knows-what. I wasn't able to get out with the rest of my friends and have fun, and who wanted to come sit next to a girl who couldn't even stay awake without crying? No one.

Day after day, I laid in bed, watching the world move on without me. I wondered what I would be doing if I could make it out of the house. All I wanted was a beach, and an incredible tan.

In attempts to raise my spirits, my mom borrowed a wheel chair from some family friends so that I would be able to get out and about for at least a little while. The pain was so intense that it completely limited my walking. Some days, I was unable to walk at all.

In the wheel chair, I was able to get outside for a while. My mom would push me around the complex for hours in the evening time, then we would put the break on and watch the sun set behind the beautiful Pikes Peak that we could see perfectly from our front porch.

One day in the middle of June, my mom decided that it would be a perfect day to get out and go to the zoo. And now that we had the wheelchair, I actually could! The trip to the zoo would give me a little time out to enjoy my summer.

All afternoon, my boyfriend, Nick, my brother, Zach, and my mom took turns pushing me up and down the hills of the zoo in my wheel chair. I was so happy because if nothing else, I got to be outside. I actually got to do something for my summer.

One trip out was all I needed to pick my spirits up for a little while longer. That one trip out could at least get me to July, when I met with the OBGYN, and hopefully found out what was going on with me.

One day, I was able to get out with my friends and family and spend the whole day as if I was healthy and happy and back to normal. For a while, I actually thought I was. And I'm sorry to ruin the story so soon, but this is not when my story meets its happily ever after.

In the middle of watching X-Men First Class with my dad and brother Zach, the most excruciating pain I could have ever imagined hit me like a ton of bricks straight to my stomach. I sobbed through the end of the movie and was unable to even walk to the car after the credits had rolled all the way through. My dad carried me out to the car and we immediately went home.

I was sad, I was mad, I was hurting. And all I can say is thank goodness for some old prescription pain killers that I hadn't used up yet. For almost three days, my pain stayed at about a 34, on a scale of 1-10. I slept most of the time and don't remember a whole lot. But this was it. My cyst had finally burst. Once the pain came down from a 34 to a 10, July could not have come soon enough.

I didn't care what that doctor did, but I wanted answers, and I wanted answers now. I could not keep living in this pain for the rest of my life.

May Pictures

(First hospital visit, pre morphine sedation- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(CT Scan, first hospital visit, I was very nervous, but seeing this picture that made it look like I was being eaten by a giant doughnut kept me smiling and laughing- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(Just found out I didn't have appendicitis and would be able to leave with my appendix in tact, still hangin' loose- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(Picture from my friend, Kristyn in my first period Spanish class to keep my spirits high and happy- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(Picture from my best friend Brittany, taken at our lunch spot, giving me support through the hospital visits- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(Second hospital visit, post morphine, still hanging in there- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(Third hospital visit, "heavily sedated with morphine"- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(A double rainbow we saw on the way home from my third hospital visit. Seeing this, gave us hope, that no matter how long it took, we knew I'd be okay- Freshman year, May of 2011)

(My boyfriend, Nick and Jennifer, my mom sitting by my hospital bed, keeping me in good spirits- Freshman year, May of 2011)

May

This past nine months has been... A doozy, to describe it nicely.

In May, the stomach pain began one day at school. I remember being late to all of my classes because it hurt so bad to walk and even having to change my outfit just so I could leave my pants un-done because they put so much pressure on my stomach. For about a week, I dismissed the excruciating cramps as "just that time of the month." However, as almost two weeks had passed, the pain increased and became worse and worse to the point where I couldn't even walk anymore. I had stopped going to school and was not even able to move out of my bed. At this point, me and my mom knew that this was not normal and there had to be something else going on.

We went to my primary care doctor with complaints of a horrible pain on the lower right quadrant of my abdomen. Due to the symptoms and my vital signs, my doctor decided that I could have a case of appendicitis. With tears flowing steadily and a hurried heartbeat, we rushed to the nearest hospital.

I laid in a hospital bed for almost four and a half hours, heavily sedated with morphine, before they decided that I did not have appendicitis, but instead a severe stomach infection. I was sent home with antibiotics and pain medication, but we all felt like there was something not quite right about my diagnosis.

About three weeks later, after I had finished off both the antibiotic and the pain killers, we returned to a hospital closer to my house, with complaints of the same persistent severe stomach pain. I hadn't felt a whole lot of pain in my short fifteen years... No broken bones... No teeth pulled... But this kind of pain was unreal. This was indescribable. It was the most excruciating pain I could ever imagine just radiating all over my body. I could hardly sit up, I couldn't walk without help, and forget even being awake without breaking into tears.

By the third hospital visit, we found a cyst on my left ovary. It was big enough to cause all of this pain, but small enough that all they could do was give me pain medication and wait for the cyst to burst on its own.

They waited to release me until I felt like I had the pain under control. I had been unable to eat because of the ultrasounds and CT scans they were running on me all day, so after I called all of my immediate family and friends to deliver the news, I was scarfing down cracker packages and jello. The nurse shift change and a very rude emergency nurse came into my room and completely re-did my IV.

Back story time! I forgot to mention that I have very "hard veins." We all know how painful an IV is, however my veins roll very easily, making an IV near IMPOSSIBLE to get done! It can take between 45 minutes, to even an hour and a half, just to set me up with an IV!

So! This nurse had just stressed me out so badly that the stomach pain had increased and so had the amount of tears! The stomach pain became so bad that I literally became light headed and dizzy. They had to bring my previous nurse back in to help calm me back down and re-do everything for the third time. At this point we actually thought that my cyst had burst, so after about two hours with my motherly nurse, I went back home.

The pain continued but more subtly than it had before, so I assumed it was normal. After about three weeks, we returned to the hospital for a fourth time, but there was nothing they could do for what was now considered chronic pain. I was sent to a gynecologist.

I remember walking into the office and getting dirty looks from older pregnant women. Although there are several reasons you can go into an OBGYN, in this day and age, you see a teenager holding her swollen stomach and walking into that office with tears in her eyes, it's just assumed that she's pregnant.

The reflection in the door was horrifying. I didn't even look like the Kaitlin I knew anymore. My skin was pale and my face was gaunt. Dark circles wore underneath my eyes and the usual trendy Kaitlin was lost in baggy layers of sweats and sloppy up-dos.

I sat down, almost sobbing at this point, because of the walk from the car to the waiting room. I didn't know what to expect, but I was not excited for whatever was to come. After about thirty minutes, I was called into a room where I met with the physicians' assistant so she could get a few details for the nurse practitioner since there were no doctors available.

The nurse practitioner was rude and impersonal. Two things that I did not need at this stage in the game. I cried through my first-ever exam and even as she forced me to decide between selecting a Nuva-Ring or a shot because she had to put me on some form of birth control to decrease my level of progesterone RIGHT NOW. I selected a shot and continued onto the blood work that the office needed for some tests. Because of course all they could do was give me another shot, take some more blood, give me a prescription that did nothing for my pain, and send me on my way to this never-ending nightmare my life had become.

I thought this was it. This was my new life and I had to just get used to it.