All I can say is thanks to the multitude of people that have emailed me, texted me, and called asking how my procedure was yesterday. It really makes you realize, yet again, who the good people are out there. This is the second time in less than a month that I have had that epiphany. See I have work friends and co-workers. Sadly the co-workers are the people that I actually share a boss with, share a building with, see every day. They have said or done nothing throughout this last month when it came to the many stressors in my life. Then there are my work friends. You guys rocks. These work friends have texted me, emailed me, FB-d me within days, even hours, of my procedure and my brother's procedures. This doesn't even include all of my friend- friends who I know have been sending up prayers for both me and my brother. It makes me thankful and sad. Thankful for all the support, and sad for all of the clear lack of support. On to my results:
Well the prep, I must say, has improved greatly since the 4 years since I have last had one. Now the stuff you drink to induce AP (ass piss, the only true way to describe it) has no taste whatsoever. You just mix it with some gatorade and down it. Now not only do you not have to force yourself to drink anything claimed to have a "new and improved ginger lemon flavor" but you also hydrate yourself at the same time. This procedure was scheduled for the afternoon so I decided to forgo the sleep little and be really tired for the procedure and opted for the sleep as much as possible through the prep. THis may or may not have contributed to the mass amounts of propofol they had to give me to keep me under. Just call me MJ (Too soon?). I do remember asking the nurse how much they gave me and then comparing myself to a sheep (see mom I do remember!). So the prep went with few hitches. Just some extreme nausea in the morning, but who really wants to drink 32oz of gatorade at 5am?? Made it to the Surgery center, got some super cool nurses (compared Jack/Rat pups and their idiosyncracies), and got ready to go back into surgery when the doc came in to talk to me. The doctor ended up being mildly upset that I didn't have another stool sample before the procedure but I distinctly remember asking the girl who called me with my BW results and she said not to worry about it. Anyhoo, they roll me into the sx suite and I can still hear the doctor complaining that this was not his way of doing things. (does he realize that I am not asleep yet?) THe procedure is over in 20 minutes. He sees nothing of concern suchs as Crohns or colitis and he took numerous biopsies. Now, if you have ever had a colonoscopy, you know that they blow air into the colon to get a good look, and that air must leave the colon....... Anyway, I am sorry mom, they positioned you on the wrong end of the recovery room. I even remember referring to the term my SIL and I made up in South Carolina(?) which is a FWB (fart with benefits). Long story about the term to be told at a later date. I didn't see my mom when I mentioned the FWB (she got the other end) but I am hoping I didn't embarass her. So I end up talking to the recovery nurse a lot (meanwhile all I wanted to do was go back to sleep) and then I am on my way home. This is where my temper gets the best of me (if mom actually read this, she would agree and I am sorry). We got home and mom goes to let the dogs out while I rummage for something to eat when she comes in telling me that Tess is loose. Now if you know Tess, she is a notorious jumper and has to be on a runner and since she is a rescue, she is also very scared of change. So she wouldn't come to mom in the closed porch so mom tries to get dudley out so she has a better chance of catching Tess when Tess bolts for the squirrels that have been harassing her and scales the fence (at least I know that a taller fence would be a waste of money). I go outside when mom tells me Tess is loose, then the temper starts. Yep I am pissed. I just got home from being violated, my stomach hurts, I am hungry but don't know what I want, and now i have to chase my dog down. I finally catch her on the front porch where I ring the door bell to have mom open the door. No answer. Therefore i have to carry the 40lb dog to the back door and finally get her in where I proceeded to then go to the bathroom, residual AP, and yell at mom. I figure it is in everyones best interest at this point if I sleep off my anger. Some say never go to bed angry. I go to bed angry when I know that my anger is completely misdirected and just a side effect of my misery for the last 24hours. I woke up happier, not happy, just happier, still in pain and hungry.
Later in the evening I start to notice the that I am experiencing one of the side effects that the nurse told me to call if I have. So I call, my doctor is the one who has to be paged, and never hear from him. I go to bed, since the side effect doesn't get any worse and wake up this morning ready for the many errands my mom and I have planned only to realize that I am in a lot of pain. Still. Stupid Biopsies. I call the doctor again, no reply until 3:30 this afternoon, Mom and I ended up watching Billy the Exterminator marathon, while I lay on the couch fuming. See in my head I think the doctor is still ticked that I didn't turn in the stool sample he wanted and thus is taking it out on me. Also I am paranoid that he thinks I am making this all up, since that seems to be what a lot of other people think (see Co-workers) and of course my paranoia soon turns to frustration then anger. But I get a call back, some medicine to get me through the pain, and an appointment for friday which is also when the biopsy results should be back. Hopefully some answers soon and if my doctor is mad at me, he is over it by then. If not, then I will rat out who told me not to take the sample in, even though it should be documented in the chart. IF this turns out to be a spastic colon then I will have some thinking to do....job wise. So there you have it, my last couple of days in a nutshell, thanks again to EVERYONE, and to be continued.
And a note to poor dying cancer boy. We do need a family vacation, and Julie should always get you a pepsi with ice placed in the cup with love (wasn't that in your vows?).
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