1-900-Psy-chic

Within the first week or two after finding my dad, I decided I was going to look up psychic mediums in Southern CA.  I was at home on the couch, continually wiping off the screen of the tablet from the tears that had fallen from my eyes.  It couldn't have been any longer than two weeks at that point and I was looking for someone to give me answers; I was looking for a stranger to help with the pain.  I realized that it was probably too soon for this...

Fast forward to about a month or two ago.  I, again, looked up psychic mediums in Orange County – this time feeling more in control than the last.  I found that the famous James Van Praagh is from Southern CA and I saw that he would be in Irvine in the coming months.  I got super excited; until I realized that he would be in front of over 150 people that shelled out $90 just for a seat.  It immediately made me super sad to realize that the vast majority of those people wouldn’t even receive a "message" – and to top it off they shelled out $90 to just sit there and watch other people receive theirs. 

How fucking sad/annoying would that be?  Sitting there, hoping and praying that you might get a faint glimmer of the person you lost and then the chick/dude sitting two chairs down from you gets that joy.  That's great for them.  It's awesome.  But knowing my personality - I would only be left with a hazy memory of a violent fit fueled by cheap chardonnay.   

Some of these mediums straight up charge $250 for 30 minutes.  30 minutes!  That's a little over eight bucks a damn minute. You think these people have “gifts”, why are they charging SO much for a "gift"?  The truth: people will pay large amounts of money to hear from their loved ones...to hear what they want to hear.  I haven't quite gotten to that point yet, but at times I am teetering dangerously close to the edge of nonsense.  Dangerously close.   Let's just say I can see the edge...without binoculars.  

There is a huge part of me that wants to  go and check it out primarily because it totally intrigues me that someone could know intimate details about you and your loved one's lives without ever knowing you.  They receive images, feelings, smells, little fairies whispering in their ears, who knows?  Regardless, it's totally amazing - to me.  I like to think that I am a little psychic because every now and then I have dreams of things that will randomly happen, but I am no where near 'Long Island Medium' status.  My dreams are more like "Oh, I had a dream you wore a red hat today".  Never anything of value like Saturday night's winning lotto numbers.  Bummer!  

But let's be logical here.  If any of these self-proclaimed psychic mediums need a little "innocent" push for information and turn to Google for help, they will soon read damn near everything about my life over the last two and a half years because of this very blog that I turn to vent my emotions.  Ah, easy fix - I could  just withhold my name, right?  Not so much, unless I have someone else pay because all of my payment methods will have my name on it.  I've run clean out of silver and gold for trade, I'm only stuck with plastic and paper. 

So, I don't know - we'll see what the future holds.  I'm sure I will eventually see a psychic - out of curiosity (and for science, of course!).   Although...I suppose the psychic already knows all that ;)

3rd time was NOT a charm...

My last post was about my impending colonoscopy.  My third one...no 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 weird...at 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. 



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 60^th 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.