I Got Pancreatitis For Our Opening Weekend of Shows

I have an Adrenaline Theory about my body… but my partner thinks it’s wrong.

Sometimes I’m conflicted about the term “partner” by the way. I used to say it’s because I’ve known the term Husband before him, and it was one without honor, or comfort, or kind, so the ‘honor’ in the word lost all meaning for me. Wanting an equitable partner- regardless of gender- is really what I’ve always hoped… but the word also belongs to a community that my husband does not technically belong.

So where do I fit? We, fit? Is there a word that can fit me AND him? Anyways, Adrenaline Theory.

I got pancreatitis for our opening weekend of shows. I tiptoe around avoiding it at all costs (my last attack was thanksgiving, so a good stretch!) - but those with chronic pancreas and liver disease can’t always avoid it as easily as a Yes and No food list. I danced a 2-hour-show… and then could only sleep on my left side because laying flat on my back was too painful to pass.

If you Google “pancreatitis”, it’s a sh*tshow. It normally requires hospitalization. It can limit your life span. It can be life threatening (blame Google, not me). They say it’s one of the worst pains someone will ever feel. In some cases, I’d agree. I had an episode a few years ago that lasted for about 10 days with worse-than-labor-when-the-baby-is-crowning pain and vomiting, and I still shiver when I think about it. I’ve passed out from it before - an episode that hit when I was “alone” in New York, staying with my (now) “stage husband” [dance partner] for the first time - and had jaundice-y eyeballs and a long hospital stay as later reward.

And I’ve had times like this weekend, where an immediate “overdose” of Ursidol and starving-it-out (not fun when dancing a highly athletic show) seems to turn the bus around. My type of ‘itis comes with its own theories too. They think my liver is really to blame when it clogs up with bile, so close association makes my pancreas freak out as IF it has the ‘itis. My liver is definitely its Husband.

“Maybe my body just REALLY loves adrenaline more than the everyday body?” I said to my partner-husband-Husband?-partner… when I later admitted that there was absolutely no reason I should have been able to have danced opening night with that level of mighty-ascites pain, and a newly refurbished hip that hasn’t felt right since surgery. (Yes, even when I was laying perfectly still and saying my prayers just right.)

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” he said, in response, “I just think you’re able to hack your brain to force it past the impossible pain to GET the adrenaline bump, which would feel and do the same for anyone.”

Noted. So where do I fit?

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