I've noticed that, among the people who read my musings, the most popular and the most reacted to are the ones where I am describing how terribly uncomfortable I am, or when I have been in significant pain. Apparently, I have the ability to see humor in places others don't and the more nervous and upset I am, the more I try to mask it with laughter. No, no, it's healthy...I think. Anyway, I usually try to write on troubling days to see if I can capture the hilarity. Be warned, today's should be a doozy!
First, in the interest of full disclosure, I should explain that I am now two days past the event that caused my discomfort so I know the outcome. I'll be talking as if my world may be ending in a swirl of disorientation and pain...but I actually turn out ok. I know, I know, I alluded to unpleasantness on a grand scale, the ruthless among you will just have to make do.
I think I'll start with a scene from a movie. (I do that...you'll get used to it) In the buddy cop movie Lethal Weapon 3 the cops, Riggs and Murtaugh, are picking up an informant, Leo, from the hospital. Leo is upset and complaining that they do all sorts of unnecessary things at the hospital just to make money.
Yes, as half of the people reading this are clicking the little "X" up in the top right corner as fast as their little fingers can fly, I'll explain to the rest of you that I shall not be describing anything gross. Personally, I think it's important to get these things out there so others know that they are not alone. No, I did not feel all alone. I felt like I had joined a great big room full of people like me...old men. When I called to make the appointment I told the person who answered the phone that I needed to make an old man appointment. She laughed, but she made the correct appointment without any further explanation.
Ok, deep breath now, I'm just gonna say it...colonoscopy. Yes, you heard that right. Pretty sure the doc was a Star Trek fan because he seemed ready to "boldly go where no man has gone before." I want to make sure everyone knows that I am talking about a colon-oscopy and not a Colin-oscopy because frankly, I have no interest in what happened with the NFL this year.
The thing about this particular test is that there are steps leading up to it. EIGHT PAGES of steps to be exact! 2 sided! The first step takes place 7 days before the procedure. You read that correctly, 7 full days before the exam I needed to think about what I was supposed to eat, drink, what medicines to take and what to discontinue. The details get more and more restrictive as C-day (as opposed to D-day) gets closer. It started with cutting out foods that were high in fiber. This seemed counter-intuitive to me since years of television commercials extolled the virtue of fiber being the whisk broom of the digestive set. When I asked for clarification on what exactly that meant, I was told that I was to start eating white bread, white rice, no fruits or vegetables, you know "all the bad stuff." Little did she know that I had been getting ready for this test since I was 17! Actually, I'm kidding. I am a fruit-aholic and I haven't eaten a slice of white bread since my mom, decades ago, dropped a piece camping and the ants on the ground walked around it. Although, the thought of a Krispy-Kreme and pizza diet seemed like something I could get behind...you know, for science.
A couple days before the event I was required to start taking a bag full of digestive aids. I walked out of the CVS with three items that I have never purchased before...and a six-and-a-half-foot long receipt! When your wife is a big deal in the Essential Oil game, trips to the pharmacy are few and far between. You know you're in for it when the people telling you about their experiences with these powders, pills, and drinks start with phrases like, "It's not that bad." The problem was that I needed to do all of this while drinking an ocean of water! It states in the doctor's instructions that I am to drink 8 ounces of clear liquid every hour I am awake. Let me remind you...I am an elementary school teacher. I don't have the luxury of stepping out to visit the facilities whenever I need to, especially since a significant portion of my day is taken explaining that recess and lunch are the correct times to go to the bathroom. We don't want to miss class time! I made it without being called a hypocrite!
After work, the night before, things start to get interesting. "Interesting" is the polite word I use to describe what happens when you take more than two full weeks worth of laxatives in the span of about 12 hours. As Forrest Gump would say, "That's all I'm gonna say about that." I will add, however, that I was motivated to live to the letter of the law written on these eight pages because of one sentence. Paraphrasing: 'Failure to adhere to these rules will result in a less than ideal view and you will need to start over." Uh, no thanks. No fiber, lots of water, drink all this...yes ma'am!
Then it's the morning of the exam. This is when the nervousness hits. I'm not a giant wimp. I can handle some discomfort. I once had a doctor ask me how I was able to still be walking around since I should have been in disabling pain. Meh, you gotta do what you gotta do. And then someone gets out a needle...and I am a whimpering little child calling out for his mommy. This procedure called for sedatives and those are administered via I.V. This was in the back of my mind ever since they told me I needed this test, but now Sylvia had dropped me off, I was wearing 60% of a gown, and the nurse was holding a stabbing device. Because of the vibe I give out I'm sure, I was given the nurse with a sense of humor. She started in saying things like, "I hate needles" and alluding to not having done this before...all while I was hyperventilating and explaining the virtues of an old rag and a bottle of ether. Poke. Done. It's never as bad as I expect it to be. But I did nearly die.
Anyway she rolled me into the room while I took a selfie that I can't show you since I didn't ask her permission to publish it. I met the doctor, a different nurse, another person who I forget what they were going to do (but I knew they weren't going to be giving me another shot so it didn't matter), and everyone kept saying my name and the reason I was there. There's a poster on the wall that had a list of all the things they were all supposed to say to make sure I was the right person in the right room for the right procedure. They all followed the rules. I suppose it's a good thing. I would have hated to get a hysterectomy! Then I met the person who told me she was going to be taking care of my sedation...and then they told me I was all done. I really liked that sedation person!
And just like My Big Fat Greek Wedding I now have to wait for the results from the bibopsy. Maybe they'll prescribe some Windex. With the Windex I would have been a shoe-in for the "Cleanest Colon of the Day" award.
Finally, looking ahead for some of my more sadistic readers who really get a kick out of reading about my pain and suffering and were disappointed that things went so smoothly. I'm going in for an MRI on my shoulder soon where some are telling me it might require surgery. Cross your fingers!
First, in the interest of full disclosure, I should explain that I am now two days past the event that caused my discomfort so I know the outcome. I'll be talking as if my world may be ending in a swirl of disorientation and pain...but I actually turn out ok. I know, I know, I alluded to unpleasantness on a grand scale, the ruthless among you will just have to make do.
I think I'll start with a scene from a movie. (I do that...you'll get used to it) In the buddy cop movie Lethal Weapon 3 the cops, Riggs and Murtaugh, are picking up an informant, Leo, from the hospital. Leo is upset and complaining that they do all sorts of unnecessary things at the hospital just to make money.
Leo: Where does it say that a gunshot wound requires a rectal exam, huh? Yeah, with a telescope big enough to see Venus!
Riggs: I guess all he saw was Uranus, huh?I remembered this scene because of its humor but more importantly because I needed to go to the hospital...and I hadn't been shot.
Yes, as half of the people reading this are clicking the little "X" up in the top right corner as fast as their little fingers can fly, I'll explain to the rest of you that I shall not be describing anything gross. Personally, I think it's important to get these things out there so others know that they are not alone. No, I did not feel all alone. I felt like I had joined a great big room full of people like me...old men. When I called to make the appointment I told the person who answered the phone that I needed to make an old man appointment. She laughed, but she made the correct appointment without any further explanation.
Ok, deep breath now, I'm just gonna say it...colonoscopy. Yes, you heard that right. Pretty sure the doc was a Star Trek fan because he seemed ready to "boldly go where no man has gone before." I want to make sure everyone knows that I am talking about a colon-oscopy and not a Colin-oscopy because frankly, I have no interest in what happened with the NFL this year.
The thing about this particular test is that there are steps leading up to it. EIGHT PAGES of steps to be exact! 2 sided! The first step takes place 7 days before the procedure. You read that correctly, 7 full days before the exam I needed to think about what I was supposed to eat, drink, what medicines to take and what to discontinue. The details get more and more restrictive as C-day (as opposed to D-day) gets closer. It started with cutting out foods that were high in fiber. This seemed counter-intuitive to me since years of television commercials extolled the virtue of fiber being the whisk broom of the digestive set. When I asked for clarification on what exactly that meant, I was told that I was to start eating white bread, white rice, no fruits or vegetables, you know "all the bad stuff." Little did she know that I had been getting ready for this test since I was 17! Actually, I'm kidding. I am a fruit-aholic and I haven't eaten a slice of white bread since my mom, decades ago, dropped a piece camping and the ants on the ground walked around it. Although, the thought of a Krispy-Kreme and pizza diet seemed like something I could get behind...you know, for science.
A couple days before the event I was required to start taking a bag full of digestive aids. I walked out of the CVS with three items that I have never purchased before...and a six-and-a-half-foot long receipt! When your wife is a big deal in the Essential Oil game, trips to the pharmacy are few and far between. You know you're in for it when the people telling you about their experiences with these powders, pills, and drinks start with phrases like, "It's not that bad." The problem was that I needed to do all of this while drinking an ocean of water! It states in the doctor's instructions that I am to drink 8 ounces of clear liquid every hour I am awake. Let me remind you...I am an elementary school teacher. I don't have the luxury of stepping out to visit the facilities whenever I need to, especially since a significant portion of my day is taken explaining that recess and lunch are the correct times to go to the bathroom. We don't want to miss class time! I made it without being called a hypocrite!
After work, the night before, things start to get interesting. "Interesting" is the polite word I use to describe what happens when you take more than two full weeks worth of laxatives in the span of about 12 hours. As Forrest Gump would say, "That's all I'm gonna say about that." I will add, however, that I was motivated to live to the letter of the law written on these eight pages because of one sentence. Paraphrasing: 'Failure to adhere to these rules will result in a less than ideal view and you will need to start over." Uh, no thanks. No fiber, lots of water, drink all this...yes ma'am!
Then it's the morning of the exam. This is when the nervousness hits. I'm not a giant wimp. I can handle some discomfort. I once had a doctor ask me how I was able to still be walking around since I should have been in disabling pain. Meh, you gotta do what you gotta do. And then someone gets out a needle...and I am a whimpering little child calling out for his mommy. This procedure called for sedatives and those are administered via I.V. This was in the back of my mind ever since they told me I needed this test, but now Sylvia had dropped me off, I was wearing 60% of a gown, and the nurse was holding a stabbing device. Because of the vibe I give out I'm sure, I was given the nurse with a sense of humor. She started in saying things like, "I hate needles" and alluding to not having done this before...all while I was hyperventilating and explaining the virtues of an old rag and a bottle of ether. Poke. Done. It's never as bad as I expect it to be. But I did nearly die.
Anyway she rolled me into the room while I took a selfie that I can't show you since I didn't ask her permission to publish it. I met the doctor, a different nurse, another person who I forget what they were going to do (but I knew they weren't going to be giving me another shot so it didn't matter), and everyone kept saying my name and the reason I was there. There's a poster on the wall that had a list of all the things they were all supposed to say to make sure I was the right person in the right room for the right procedure. They all followed the rules. I suppose it's a good thing. I would have hated to get a hysterectomy! Then I met the person who told me she was going to be taking care of my sedation...and then they told me I was all done. I really liked that sedation person!
And just like My Big Fat Greek Wedding I now have to wait for the results from the bibopsy. Maybe they'll prescribe some Windex. With the Windex I would have been a shoe-in for the "Cleanest Colon of the Day" award.
Finally, looking ahead for some of my more sadistic readers who really get a kick out of reading about my pain and suffering and were disappointed that things went so smoothly. I'm going in for an MRI on my shoulder soon where some are telling me it might require surgery. Cross your fingers!
No comments:
Post a Comment