When I was in junior high I started having these pains that I just couldn’t describe. My mother kept bringing me to the doctor but they just kept saying it was a bladder infection. The pain stayed and wouldn’t get better. It continued through out high school and college. Doctors could not figure out what it was. One doctor would refer me to another and then to another. I was so overwhelmed with doctors guessing and never giving me any answers.
It had gotten to the point that the doctors had already removed my appendix, done a complete hysterectomy, and removed my gallbladder. I was then referred to another doctor. She suggested I go see this surgeon so he could possibly see if I had a lot of scar tissue. The surgeon decided to go in and see the next day. I was told the first thing I said waking up from surgery was, “did they see what’s wrong. ” I was then told that when he went in he looked around and didn’t see any scar tissue but as he was removing the camera it slipped out his hand and it turned towards my bladder. He said, “it just didn’t look right.”
The doctor referred me to yet another doctor. I went to see that doctor and he said he needed to do a cystoscope. A week later results were in and it showed that it was interstitial cystitis. I was happy that they finally figured it out but upset because he said he didn’t know where it comes from, there is no cure, and there are treatments that may or may not work. The next five years I would go threw 10 to 15 different types of treatment. I was then referred to ANOTHER doctor. That doctor tried another type of treatment, medications, and requested that I also see another doctor that he partners with. They later informed me that the medications I’m on can be harsh on my liver. Since I would need to stay on these medications until either a cure or the rest of my life, I needed to consider getting a pump put in so the medicine could bypass the liver or I could be looking at a liver transplant. I agreed to pump. After six months I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure due to one of medicine in the pump. The medications were changed. For the past year things have been better except for a few flare ups. IC is a part of my life but it is NOT my life. I will never give up. I don’t like dealing with IC or getting my pump filled. My children, my best friend Tammy, and other close friends are the reason I keep pushing to not let IC take over my life. There will be a day that I will be able to say, “I don’t have IC, I HAD IC.
LOVE YOU GABBY, MYA, TAMMY. This too shall pass.
The informational content of this article is intended to convey a personal experience and, because every person’s experience is unique, should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.
This article is intended to convey general educational information and should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.