September 2022

I started September with a severe pain flare and a trip to the hospital for pain and nausea medication. These flares always scare me because they don’t go away easily, and I get worried that the new level of pain will become my normal daily pain level. I stayed in the ER until 3 am, watching the US Open with my mom and dad and receiving doses of medication in an attempt to lessen my pain. Eventually, my pain got to a level that I could go home and go to sleep, but the next morning I woke up to severe pain again and quickly realized that the flare was not gone.

              That day, my mom and I went to my pain doctors, who decided that they could write a pain plan for me to give to the ER doctors so that they could know how to address my pain, which requires multiple types of medication. That night, my mom and I returned to the ER, but this time with a plan. After a few hours, my pain was finally a little better, and this time, it didn’t get worse the next morning. It seemed like the new ER plan had worked well enough to keep me home this time.

Later that week, while my mom and I were on a walk, my mom received a call from the interventional radiology department in Baltimore. We found out that I would be having my renal hilar block done on September 16^th, exactly a year after my pain first started. I knew that getting to that date would be mentally very difficult for me. It was hard to process the fact that I had been sick for an entire year. That 365 days had passed since I ate or drank without pain. That 8,760 hours had gone by since I had felt like myself. That I had spent 525,600 minutes searching for answers and a solution for my pain. It was hard to not feel like that entire year had been wasted. I hadn’t spent that year enjoying being a senior in high school and starting college at UNC. But I have to remind myself that I haven’t entirely wasted that year. I have learned so much about life, about being a doctor, and about myself. I know that repeating dates from the past year will be a hard reminder of what has happened to me and my health, but I will try to focus on the fact that we know so much more about what is going on now than we did a year ago.

               On September 15^th, my mom and I flew to Baltimore, Maryland. We woke up at 5:15 am to get ready to head to the hospital by 6:30 am. Once at the hospital, we filled out my paperwork and were taken back to a room. We met a very nice nurse who would be taking care of me throughout my entire procedure. She explained that I would be receiving some medication through my PICC line that would keep me calm during the procedure, but that I would be awake. This terrified me. I had been through so much over the past year that caused a lot of nerves around procedures. Right before I was taken back to the procedure room, the interventional radiologist came back to explain the procedure. This is when he informed me that I couldn’t receive all of the medication that I was supposed to, meaning I would be more awake. This caused me to panic. I got very upset and tried to explain how nervous this made me feel. The IR then went into the hall and found an anesthesiologist who would be giving me sedation for the procedure. I was so relieved. I would now be completely asleep for the block. The nurse told me how impressed she was by how well I advocated for myself. A few minutes later, I went back to start the procedure.

              First, I moved from the stretcher onto a bed where I laid on my stomach. The bed was then moved back into a CT machine where the IR took a picture of my abdomen and used a tool to measure the distance from my skin down to my left renal vein (the vein that supplies the left kidney). They then marked my back with a marker to guide them on where to do the block. After they finished the preparation, I was given anesthesia and drifted off to sleep. While I was asleep, the IR used a long needle to inject numbing medication into the area around my left renal vein. If the injection of this medication took away my abdominal and left flank pain, we would know that the compression of my left renal vein (Nutcracker Syndrome) is the source of my pain.

              The second I woke up; I instantly felt relief and began to cry. I hadn’t been without my pain in months and hadn’t even remembered how it felt to have no pain. I could even press on my stomach without any discomfort. As soon as I was awake enough to sit up, I got dressed and was wheeled down to the car. We went straight from the hospital to Panera Bread to get a smoothie and a bowl of oatmeal. If the block truly worked, I would be able to eat for a few hours without pain.

              As soon as we got back to the hotel, I climbed back into bed with my food and began to eat. I was cautious at first, but soon realized that I could eat without pain. I ate all of my oatmeal and drank half of my smoothie. I got so full and very nauseous, but my severe pain was gone. I fell asleep for a few hours with a full stomach. When I woke up, I decided to try to eat again. This time, I chose a Nestle Crunch bar. Once again, I ate with no pain, and it was the best chocolate bar I have ever eaten.

              Soon, it was time for my mom and I to drive back to the airport. The block was beginning to wear off, and I was extremely nauseous from eating so much, so getting through the airport was tiring. Once we got to our gate, I decided to get one last thing to eat, before the block was fully worn off. I decided on Chick-fil-A. I couldn’t finish all of my nuggets, but it was amazing to eat without pain, especially something hot, which is usually impossible for me to eat. Once we were home, the pain was coming back and I was feeling pretty awful, but I was also feeling optimistic because this block showed me what I could feel like after the renal auto transplant for my Nutcracker Syndrome. I can’t even believe that there is a chance for me to eat and live without pain again, but this block gave me hope.