Friday, July 17, 2015

3rd time was NOT a charm...

My last post was about my impending colonoscopy.  My third big deal, I've done this shit twice before.  I'm a damn pro at this now.  This time was like no other.  I will never, ever forget this time. This was a terrible experience.  Move over that one time I flew head-first off of my bike, sprained my wrist because I was trying to eat a piece of candy...colonoscopy numero three has you trumped.

Allow me to preface this...Kaiser does shit least in the colonoscopy world.

My prep day was this last Sunday and the directions had me starting to drink the go-go juice at 6pm - and then drink 3 of the 4 liters over 3-4 hours. And yes, you read that right, 4 liters (that's more than 1 gallon, kiddos).  I decided that the directions were stupid and I started earlier because I didn't want to be up all fucking night in the damn bathroom.  Besides, I had to wake up at 5am the morning of and finish the final liter of gag inducing, salt water.  Shhh...don't tell anyone, I couldn't finish the whole thing.  My body was literally rejecting it.  Here is a photo of the amount that I drank on Sunday night, basically 2 liters.  The bottle/container/receptacle was larger than my big ass head.

Momma comes and picks me up on Monday and we get to Kaiser.  I don't even have time to sit down before the nurse is calling my name to go back to the temple of doom.  All hooked up, I get wheeled back into the procedure room and the nurse administers my sleepy-stuff.  I feel a slight burn and then immediately my throat is super itchy; she warns of this.  I get really sleepy, almost like I've taken two Tylenol PMs....or maybe one PM plus a muscle relaxer.  Am I asleep at this point?  No, just super, duper relaxed and tired.  I hear the doctor say "I'm going to proceed with the rectal exam", and I respond with "I'm not ASLEEEEEP!" The all caps part is because as the words 'I'm not' leave my lips, I feel his fingers in my extremely sore bum and I yell out 'ASLEEP', followed by "Jesus Christ, man, I'm not asleep yet!  What the fuck!?"  He chirps to a nurse to give me more medication.  Thank you, you're too kind. 

Next thing I know, I am feeling the fucking colonoscope.  No, the doctor didn't hand it to me so I could feel it with my little, petite fingers.  No, I am not feeling it against my naked leg.  I'm feeling that bastard inside me.  I feel it, oh - I don't know - I'd assume about 6 inches or so in me?  It could have been 2 inches or it could have been 12 - it's all the same when your insides are sore. All the while I am trying to squirm but I can't move too much because I am doped up on meds and yelling out that I am not asleep yet.  The doctor huffs and mutters "I can't do this" - as if I am putting him out.  Bitch, hand me that scope, bend over, see how you like it.  Well, that's after I sleep off these meds...

I awaken to murmuring voices and I'm a little confused, thinking "Did I leave the TV on?  Wait, where the hell am I?"  Then I remember the recent violation of my bum.  I also vaguely remember seeing a nurses face hover above mine as she tells me that I need to come back tomorrow to be completely anesthetized. 

Joy.  I have to not eat again.  I have to take massive amounts of laxatives again.  Joy.  So, I spend my dad's birthday in the bathroom.  I did take a short break to release two helium balloons with the hubs from our porch.  The teary birthday speech didn't last long, because I had to go - literally. 

Tuesday's procedure went much easier.  I had a different doctor, who I really liked - he was much more personable and I am going to see if I can keep him.  Ha!  Kind of sounds like "Hey mom - I found this lost doctor - can we keep him?  Pleeeeaassseee??"   I was given the medication and once again, I heard "I'm going to proceed with the rectal exam".  While the seconds are ticking down before I am completely knocked out, I slur "Oh no, please not that".  You know what he did?  He stopped.  The dude stopped and said, "Okay, I'll wait".  I close my eyes and allow my body to accept the sleep. 

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Bummer Exam numero three

Well, it's that time again.  Time for me to write and time for my third colonoscopy.  Not literally right now, but this Monday, as in tomorrow.  I requested this day off weeks ago to do something nice in honor of my dad on his birthday...Kaiser had other plans.  They called and said that it's been 2 years since my last one...went by faster than I care to admit.  I guess he'd be proud that I am getting this shit handled like I am supposed to.  Since my appointment is relatively early, I should be done by around 11:15, at home and asleep by 12:00 and then alert-ish by 3:00.  I plan to go down to the party store and get some helium balloons, attach a note and then head somewhere to release them.  Hopefully the bummer exam will not stand in it's way.  That would be a bummer.  I'm so funny...

This will be my third of many that I will have in my lifetime.  I estimated that by my 60th birthday I will have had over 15 colonoscopies!  Maybe by that time there will be a new standard for taking a peek at your insides...Maybe?  With my luck, probably not :/

Lately I’ve become really irritated with this ulcerative colitis business.  It’s wearing me down.  I'm so over it.  I don't want to play anymore.  Sir, get me off this ride, I feel like I am going to hurl.  I’m sure most of it has to do with stress which obviously isn’t good for me or my insides.  Constant pain, complete exhaustion for no reason, joint pain, being nervous to eat anything when you’re not at home, the need to scope out bathrooms of every place you enter, not having healthy nails/hair because your body doesn't process nutrients the way it should...those are just a few of the many, many joys of having a chronic, inflammatory bowel disease.

However, another annoying one of the worst side-effects of U.C. is the fact that you don't physically look sick (*insert air finger quotes here*).   I mentally have to fight to get up in the morning, but because my makeup does wonders all of it just magically flutters away...  On the outside, I appear to be a normal, functioning (*insert air-finger quotes here*) human being when all I want to do is crawl back into bed, lay there in a fetal position because on the inside, it feels like I have a ball of hot, broken glass slowing making it's way through my intestines.  That, my friends, should be on the pamphlet in the doctor's office, that no one would ever read, explaining IBD... preferably with an illustrated diagram.

So, today I am starving myself.  Ugh!  I am SO FUCKING HUNGRY!  Have I mentioned that I really enjoy eating?  Like, literally - I love it - I love being able to pick out the different flavors and nuances in meals...try to figure out what was used to get that uber, yummy taste.  Majority of the time when I am craving something, it's on the savory spectrum. You can understand my frustrations that the only damned savory thing that I can "eat" today is broth.  Everything else is sweet: jell-o, hard candies, clear juices and sodas.  I wish Willy Wonka was around with his '4-course meal in a candy'.  I could totally go for that...  Then, theoretically I will be expanding with gasses like Violet once I have to drink my 3 liters of "go-go juice".  I just came up with that nick-name the horrid liquid, clever, right? I think so.  

Please, eat something delicious for me today....I beg you.