It’s apparently my dad’s turn on the “your health sucks” merry-go-round. I took him into ER this evening, after he began complaining of severe abdominal pain. They took some care to make sure it wasn’t a heart attack—it wasn’t—and initially, the attending thought it was a ulcer. X-rays and ultrasound changed the diagnosis to gallstone pancreatitis.
Mom and I left him at the Salem hospital a little after midnight, and he’s still in a lot of discomfort. They’ve whacked him up with a lot of pain and anti-nausea meds, but they’ve only been of marginal utility. They’re planning on a stronger regimen as soon as they can get an IV reattached. (In his semi-lucid state, he’s been flipping back and forth in bed in a vain effort to get comfortable, and it’s unattached numerous EKG and IV wires.)
Tomorrow, I expect that he’ll have gall bladder removal surgery, a fairly common procedure with good prospects for a full recovery. Not happiness right now, though. I’ll keep you posted.