(courtesy of ceresproject.org)
Well, Readers. Your prayers didn't work. My Dr. instructed two of his minions to put in two tubes to test my tube for eating, in order to record levels of something benign like ACID. Yes, it burns on the inside as well as the outside. (they [prayers] did work- hold tight and see how.)
Prior to this informative GI procedure, I was given instructions over the phone on what to do and not do.
1. Not to eat for a few hours before hand.
Not a problem.
I've been down and out and actually lost some weight if you read the last few posts, and have not cared to eat-
(Not eat this costume. Less acid I bet. Thanks for the picture costumesgalore.net)
but I have stared at pictures of food.
*if you didn't read the last two posts, why not? --kidding. I tend to get sarcastic while suffering or in pain. It's hereditary from my paternal padre side.
Before I continue to document my life,
Thank you, Readers.
Your prayers helped me make good decisions and keep a clear head the past few days. Except for some info I sent along on group texts that J. has no idea about.
Yesterday I had the hardest day.
boo-hoo, me!!
I finally tapped out on how much longer I could do over time at Crohns, Cushings & Co. and, using The Force I made a decision. And I could tell Padre wanted to leave my Dr.s office after the IV they tried to put in with a 20 gauge (not a gun) into the veins in my hands. That's all they had- gauges. Not hands. And then they got one up stream, Yay!
There was a prayer answer!!
Half way through, or so, I felt like my hand wet its pants and figured I was bleeding out. I quickly looked under the white blanket that was keeping me warm and from shaking, to see blood and then saline diluting it.
Quickly I whipped it over to the side of the table and let the new carpet and paint on the walls take a hit rather than get my own bio hazard waste on myself.
After we hollered for help; they (two nurses and the PA) tried to figure out how to stop the IV, I kinked the chord and Padre put pressure on the port of entry.
(All fine establishments have a learning curve. I don't hold a grudge. A brand spanking new office can make anyone nervous.)
In a Bermuda Triangle sort of fashion, this took place right when everything was closing down-Dr.s go home, infusion centers close, and ERs send in people who don't want to work after 5.
And so they told me I'd have to go through the ER!
whaaaa???
Or come in the next day. And they handed me a piece of paper to take to the hospital, whether I chose to let the people there give me IV, OR stop drinking water altogether.
(some one must have texted ISIS or face booked the President to call them and they used a voo-doo doll instead.) :)
Using the Force I told Padre to drive us home; I had a boy to wish good luck and get to baseball- saline could wait. (When I said yesterday was the worst, I lied. It is early evening with my tube in and I am now burning in my ears and chest from eating three chocolate chips. )
THREE!
Reverse Psychology is what is happening here. The doctors want me to quit needing them after 5
-(I call them when they are on call. They hate that. Sorry. )
The Second rule I was to remember was I wasn't supposed to take any Nexium or drink the chalk that coats my throat. I couldn't take anything that would mask or prevent the ACID from coming where it shouldn't like the chalk that coats my throat. I've found out that it does in fact work and I will never eat chocolate in my life again. Unless I am in the hospital, on my death bed, and morphine is flowing.
So in the middle of the night I went back to the place I so love and they so love me and I explained my stricture (this is only merely the closing off of a place in your body- mine happened to be in the esophagus and now I know why- I would tie knot in it if I could- to the Dr. who had told me I hadn't anything wrong and that I also had an infection that he over looked because he hated working after 5pm.
We all Kum-by- yah-ed and got to business since I was in so monstrosity delirium.
One of the Wise Ones told me my infection was "Almost gone." I got brave here and said I wanted it ALL gone because this infection was the least of my worries; bringing me down so that I couldn't fight the worst or my worries; and is there a medical term called: You almost have cancer?
So I got an IV of antibiotic.
My Dr.'s minion proceeded to stick a tube with rings on it. First of all, the tube was the size of my garden hose down and secondly, those rings were like bike tire treads. So back to my story....
She proceeded to push the hose down- excuse me- UP my nose THEN down my throat to check things out. As it was happening I forgot what it did and thought I was being water boarded.
MInion: "Look up at the ceiling, then when I hit the back of your throat touch your chin to your chest."
(store.dr.jockers.com- look how loooong it is til the stomach, people! I mean Readers!)
Me:" How will I know if it's in the right place and I have this neck pad from Cushings- my chin is stuck in between it and my chest....."
Minion: "You'll know."Readers, minion was right, I knew. First I looked heavenward and, being a mouth breather, uttered a prayer inside my mind while the tip of the tube tickled my brain then took a U turn.
By that time it hit the back of my throat, I was gagging and bent over out of instinct and was reaching for that peanut bucket she gave me and told me to throw up in it and not on her.
Readers, you may think: "She is exaggerating. It isn't that bad blah, blah, buh." And you'd be right. If you hadn't had acid burning your digestive track or a disease that takes your white blood cells and has them turn on you.
It isn't pleasant.
The tissue is inflamed. Look up the word- you will find that flame in the word and flames come with fire. It hurts to be burned whether on the outside or inside I've found out over the last 20 years.
Where was I?
Oh, the Dr.s office working my job and tire treads.
(Picture found on: ajpgi.physio;ogy.org)
The tire treads did not help the sensation of being stuffed and gagged while being a mouth breather. Pretty quickly I became a left nostril breather and tried to heed the words I told J. the other day when something happened and he panicked.
"Remember the rule of thumb you use when you dirt bike or ski? Don't panic. Stay in control. And if you can't, fake it til you can.
So I faked it until I used The Force to gain control over being strangled. I surrendered to the fate and tried to breathe through one nostril while holding my mouth open and not swallowing.
I was glad I had been in the ER with the after 5 people; they had gotten a vein, hydrated and attended to me.
(canfor.com again- they win for coolest fireworks that take place in Canada which reminds me that J. had to do a project for Flag Day in school and it was of Canada. Hope it turned out nice.)
* it is in the middle of the night. I was so praying I would not wake up until this was all over.
I'm sitting here wondering what to eat for breakfast to make acid in my body. Aside from eating an onion, nothing is coming to mind. *
The minion carried out the serious of testing me and my ability to NOT swallow with a fire hose down my throat. Actually that would make it easy cause your throat is not that big and you'd simply flop about on the table like a soon to be dead fish.
Which reminds me of the time J. and I and lil sis went fishing up by Ledore and the Ghost town and J. caught his first fish. Readers, that poor fish went through more pain than any of us can ever know cause we didn't have the heart to knock his head hard enough. And we aren't first time fisher- people.
We'd just never fished with a kid and then had to do the duty, ya know? Actually I think Padre always knocked 'em out for us and then we did the picture thing.
He kept looking at us like: "you dumb idiots put me out already."
Where was I? Oh, the testing and my failing on a couple and needing to do a re-do. Which made a tear squeeze out of my eye.
Finally I had to breath in, or was it out? Either way she pulled the tube out like Indiana Jones pulling a snake from the eye socket area of a skull. Except this was my throat and it was a foot lengths distance of 'zippppppp'.
It was gagging=ish. Then she inserted the "smallerr" tube minus the tread tracks, hooked it to weather Doppler around my neck and told me to punch buttons if something happened. And then to go eat something very spicy.And guess what? Technology has this tube monstrosity already replaced. - yeh, my GI's office is still in the stone age and hasn't bought the new thingy -ma- bob yet. I bet it's pricey. It can hang on the back of your esophagus like a picture on the wall and report everything to their computer via satellites.
my mouth, try to see how fast I could swallow it and then I had to not swallow for sixty seconds.
It felt like eternity.
Finally it all ended. And the nurse said I couldn't get it wet. No shower today!
"We want you to eat everything that gives you the worst trouble. "
Me: "Wait, what?"
"You need to eat anything that gives you problems and causes symptoms in your throat"
Since Padre was my driver for today, I had him pick me out some Sam's Club salsa and I guzzled a few times. I ate a forbidden nut and fruit granola bars - which were harder to swallow even with the smaller hose down my throat and tapped madly on the thingy around my neck.
Which looks like a small camera. So I must have looked like a tourist when I went into one store.
The foods I ate climbed their way up into my ears and eyes.
If only I had not been sick! I could have had Café Rio, cake, Florence's chocolates! Whatever!
It could have been an All You Can't Eat Day!
wait, it was. I mean it could have been a day that I wouldn't have to feel guilty indulging. Instead I felt on fire. And have boobed like a baby all day.
Warning Readers- I went to eat three chocolate chips and the pain was akin to drinking vinegar after a tonsillectomy minus any pain meds. I haven't had it happen personally but know someone who has and J. totally bawled. He was four or something so it is expected to see a kid bawl over something so silly.
I don't know how this story will end. Most likely in tears.
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