This is the Day that the Lord has Made

I'm sorry if it seems like I left you hanging about the interstitial cystitis. I still don't have any definitive answers, but I have been having more good days than bad lately, and that leaves me hopeful.

The morning of July 20th I went back to the urologist for a cystoscopy. I was on the fence about going through with such an invasive test, my biggest concern was that they wouldn't find anything, and it would just make the pain worse. I checked in, Brad and Roman by my side, and they put one of those hospital wrist bands on my arm. I was a nervous wreck waiting in the waiting room, and the wrist band only made me feel like a "patient" all the worse. They called me back to another waiting area where I got undressed behind nothing but a thin curtain. Open-back gown, non-skid socks, and a blue hair net later, the nurse led me into a bright white room as I desperately tried to avoid mooning the world. Was all this really necessary? Brad wasn't allowed to go with me. Really, why do they do that? The nurse had me lie on my back, cleaned me, and injected lidocaine into my bladder. A few seconds later the urologist gloved up and inserted the scope. It was not very comfortable, even with the lidocaine, but there was a screen right by my head, so I focused on the inside of my bladder as the doctor navigated the camera. It's strange, seeing your insides in real time. Most people probably go their whole lives without seeing the inside of their bladders. It was pink, and almost squishy looking. The doctor showed me the opening of my ureters and my bladder wall, everything looked normal so far. He then turned the camera around and looked at my urethra from within where I was having most of my pain. I could instantly see a bright red ring around the scope, and I gasped and asked if that was normal.

"It usually gets inflamed right as we insert the scope," he replied nonchalantly. It made me wonder which came first, the redness or the scope? The procedure only lasted a few minutes and he pulled the scope out slowly to look at the walls of my urethra. It was very uncomfortable, and I could see my urethra swelling up around the camera as it was exiting my body.

"Well, everything looks normal. I'm going to send in an antibiotic for two days with a few refills so you can take it whenever it flares up. Before you leave, let's get an x-ray of that right kidney and see if we can see a stone."

The nurse led me back down the hall to where Brad was waiting behind the curtain. "It hurts so bad," I said as I was doubled over in pain. I was afraid I had made the wrong choice in having the scope after all. Another nurse came and brought me back to the x-ray room.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" She asked.

"I hope not!" I replied.

The picture took a few seconds and I was led back behind the curtain again where I could finally put on my own clothes. The urologist poked his head in to let us know that nothing showed up on the x-ray, and I was to follow up in one month.

"Ok...So what do you think is causing the pain?" This was the second time I asked him. "Do you think it's IC?"

"I don't think it's IC," he replied. "You have some kind of urethral syndrome going on. So let's try those antibiotics, we'll recheck your urine on Monday for the ureaplasma, and I'll see you in a month." And with that he was gone. I was left with more pain, but no more answers. Brad rushed me home where I took some ibuprofen, and curled up with a heating pad in my usual fetal position in bed. As if the physical pain isn't bad enough, the thought that I'm leaving my husband to be a single parent for an unknown amount of time is worse. I hate feeling so helpless. I hate feeling like a burden.

A few hours later I was feeling much better and able to go to work. I picked up the antibiotic, but it didn't seem to help as I had a few "bad" days in a row. I was anxious to return to the lab once Monday rolled around and see if they would find the ureaplasma again. I walked into the office, stated my name, and was given the same runaround I was given the first time. Ugh...why couldn't I have the same lab tech I had last time? I explained to her that we had tested for this before in my urine, and that they had found it two weeks ago, so we were retesting today. She handed me a cup and asked for a clean catch sample. I told her the last time I gave a sample, it was dirty (meaning no wiping beforehand, and not a mid-stream catch) she said this time she needed a clean catch, so I went to the bathroom, dropped off my sample right in front of a guy getting his blood drawn (hiiii, nice to meet you), and left.

It's odd when you're having a health issue that no one can seem to figure out. You almost want something to be wrong, just so you have some answers. 48 hours later I was at work and saw that I missed a call from the urology clinic. I knew the voicemail would contain the results of my test, and I resisted the urge to check it until I got home from work.

"Hi Hannah, this is a nurse from the urologist office. Just wanted to let you know that your urine culture came back negative, they didn't find anything."

Normally a negative test would mean relief, but my heart instantly sank. I felt like I was back at square one. Now what? Maybe the ureaplasma wasn't causing my pain after all. As of now, I don't have any more testing or appointments scheduled. I am in this limbo of waiting and seeing if each day will be a "good" day, or a "bad" day. Like I said before, there seems to be more good days lately, until the pain creeps up out of nowhere.

I'm going to be completely honest, I have been struggling lately. Struggling to stay positive, to have hope. The pain isn't the worst pain I've ever experienced (hellooooo 48 hours of labor), but it wears on me as I don't know when it will come and how long it will last. How do I make plans when I don't know if I'll be in pain or not? I've been holding on to the phrase, "This is the day that the Lord has made." This is the day. This day that I was in pain again, felt totally unproductive and worthless. Yesterday was the day. The day that I was pain free, did laundry, and sat on our deck with my husband and watched the sun go down. I desire more days like yesterday. If God loves me, why does He allow this pain in my life? I could never imagine putting Roman through what seems like pointless agony if I could prevent it. I feel separated from His favor right now, and I know that is incredibly selfish to say. I know that this pain does not compare to the glory that awaits me. I know this life on earth is just a vapor...but. But I just want to enjoy the present. I want to spend time with my family and my little boy pain-free, is that too much to ask? I don't have the answers. I long for a time when all this is just a memory.

So that's where I'm at. It's frustrating not having answers, but I am trying to cling to God's promises and remember that He is sovereign over every day of my life. The good, the bad, and the ugly.