Forgotten Things
Yesterday was the colonoscopy and endoscopy. The experience was interesting. Specifically, Erin and I woke up, we got ready and then drove to the facility. I was admitted, given an armband and then taken back to remove all of my clothing and put on two different robes, one facing backward, the other facing forward. At that point the nurse took me to a small alcove where they repeated a series of questions I'd been asked the day before and when I was being admitted. She then proceeded to put an I/V into my wrist, which actually was uncomfortable enough that I almost said something... the nurse removed a long stint from the I/V with a small viol of blood and then injected something. I was then led to a small waiting room.
That was actually one of the worst waits... in part because I didn't feel well, and in part because I could hear people talking about various things to include a high pitched old lady say, "Yes," and, "I don't think he can hear you," and, "Yes," and, "His hearing isn't too good today." You might think that something as benign as a couple helping each other out might be comforting to me; however, in the preceding week and a couple of days I've known about this procedure, I've received a lot of different accounts of what to expect and what is going to happen, as well as other people's experiences and, truth told, I was not (exactly) eager to lay on the table and have the doctor and nurses and technicians do anything to me.
Especially after the first nurse put the I/V into my and it was still hurting and kind of bleeding around the insertion point.
The wait ended as a nurse or technician (I never bothered to have it distinguished for me) came into the waiting room and had me follow him into the operating room. He had me lie on a table and another nurse put monitors on me as the first attached an I/V line from a drip bag and proceeded to set things up. At the same time my GI doctor was already there and started asking me questions which seemed to mirror the questions everyone else had asked me, "When was the last time you had something to drink?" "Did you follow the laxative regiment?" and yadda.
On a side note, as of right this second, the laxative regiment is, perchance, the worst thing I have ever done. By the time I was done I couldn't even think about the liquid without physically becoming ill; and I was so cold I had to pull out the hot pad and stick it up under the sweater I put on to try and trap the heat my body was generating. On top of it, the liquid was clear and (allegedly) flavored (allegedly because I am the one who added the flavoring) and tasted like something strange and thick and coating and weird. You take 8 ounces every ten minutes for three hours and, I gotta tell you, I don't know if having information (possibly life saving) is worth the hassle and the disgusting feeling that comes with that laxative. On top of which, I spent half the night in the bathroom and the other half the night wishing my body was ready to return to the bathroom.
Back to the surgical center... the first nurse suggested that if I ever have to do that again, I should mix the laxative with something else. She actually suggested sodas and when I said I don't drink sodas but a fruit juice cocktail might work she just smiled and jumped back into her questions.
After the GI doctor was done with his questions the second nurse/technician asked him, "Do you need to speak to him anymore?" and, since I didn't hear anything, he must've shook his head indicating, "No," because the nurse/technician injected something into the drip line, which stung as it entered my arm, and then my nose felt itchy and I could smell something acrid. When I asked, "What did you just do?" The nurse said, "It might sting a little."
I said, "I can smell something..."
"Oh, if you can smell it its practically to your brain...." and that was it.
The next thing I know, and not even clearly, is Erin next to me. According to her, I was talking, somewhat incoherently, for a while and making her laugh. Throughout the rest of the day I'd say something and she would respond, "You already told me that." I would then asked when, and, her answer was always when I was waking up in the surgical center.
I guess one of the things that really caught my attention was that, which still coming out of whatever I was under I insisted Erin take a book she is reading out to my mom while I woke up and she was beside me and other things happened... to include the doctor coming and showing Erin some pictures from my stomach that indicates I had an ulcer in my stomach that is now scar tissue and healed, and to prescribe some medication for me to take twice a day, and finally to set up a follow-up appointment. Since no one was speaking to me, or if they were I don't have any recollection of it, I am out of the loop on what the doctor said...
...That is, except to say that he doesn't think it is Crohn's Disease or Celica and that he is leaning (heavily) toward IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) with some kind of food intolerance, possibly (if I am lucky) a carbohydrate intolerance. Some of this is (actually) inferred from what Erin told me and from the appointment I had with the doctor a week and some ago.
However, most of the day, yesterday, was very fuzzy for me. I don't remember going home; I don't remember sitting for a couple of hours talking to my mom; I don't remember Erin going out and getting the medication or other things; and I don't remember laying down for a nap or the nephews and niece and sister and brother all showing up or pizza arriving or much of anything else.
One of the negative side effects of whatever they did to me was that I was completely lost most of the day and night. Knowing that I have a test today (or tomorrow, and right this second, it will be taken tomorrow morning) and knowing I had homework to do, I tried to study and do the homework but my mind was not accepting of new information or even old information and it was like forcing my way through a rather thick brick wall. Truth told, my night really ended up consisting of me watching TV and staring at my computer as I tried, valiantly (I will interject), to study and get things done. None of which, to my today estimation, actually happened.
All in all, the experience was okay. Other than an odd feeling in my throat and bum and wondering when I had an ulcer (probably my Layton days), everything seems to be okay and yesterday really was a throw away day. I would share art, specifically pictures from the experience, by I didn't get any and I don't think Erin asked for any; well, that and I don't really know that I want to upload files even if I did have them; but, truth told, the question by the professor the other day, "Why would you choose to have that done?" seems very pertinent to my situation.
John Hattaway | smokingpen | Alicia Grey | Clockwork Princess | Cassandra West
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