So today I had my endoscopy/colonoscopy procedure and (as you told me) the prep from yesterday was worse than the actual procedure.
From twitter yesterday:
- Today’s menu : clear liquids, jello and laxatives. Feels like I’m back in college…
- …except that the nurse says vodka does not count as a “clear liquid”. Which makes me doubt she’s ever had vodka. Now I’m said for both of us.
- This clear broth tastes like I want a hamburger.
- So, I have to take ANOTHER dose of prescription strength laxatives at 5am tomorrow? There could not *possibly* be anything left in me.
- …Victor: “We’re taking your car tomorrow.” His beside manner, you guys.
I had an anxiety attack waiting for the procedure but I asked twitter to distract me and they flooded with otter videos and stuff like this:
I was very high for the procedure and was assured I would feel and remember nothing but still panicked a little when they strapped one of those masks on my face which was supposedly some sort of mouth guard to keep me from biting the scope but which felt more like the mask that Hannibal Lector had to wear to keep from killing people with his teeth. The anesthesiologist was awesome in that he gave me the BEST drugs but right before he put them in my IV he told me that the drugs can cause super-strong dreams so to think of a good place, and that was nice except that he was like, “Don’t think about work or pain” or a list of other things he told me not to think about which of course I immediately thought about, but it didn’t matter because I didn’t dream and the next second I was in recovery and couldn’t believe it was over so quickly. Also, I was very high but I didn’t think I was and Victor wouldn’t let me have my phone.
Me: “I’m fine. I can tweet now.” Victor: “You really can’t.” Me: “I’m totally fine.” Victor: “You keep trying to reboot your water bottle.”
But then he gave up and it’s obvious that he shouldn’t have because I was like, “TAKE MY PICTURE TO PROVE I’M ALIVE” and then I tweeted it because I was too high to realize it was not a good picture. Victor later defended himself by pointing out that I was sober enough to use a black and white filter but that’s just muscle memory.
Then the doctor came out and showed me close-ups of my insides, and my stomach lining looked like Mars from a distance, which I thought was very pretty but apparently not really what it was supposed to look like because it was “very irritated for unknown reasons”. (Much like Victor)
He found some issues but nothing that screamed “THIS IS WHERE ALL HER MISSING BLOOD IS GOING”. They did a biopsy to check for cancer and another to check for celiac disease, but other than the same stomach ache that’s plagued me for a month I feel fine.
Apparently there’s a part that they couldn’t get to even with the human shishkabobing so I might need to do another scoping where I swallow a pill that’s actually a tiny camera, and I find it weird that we’re living in a future where science can take a ride through my body in a pill but they can’t make fat-free egg rolls.
So basically what I learned is that there’s still something wrong but no clear answers on what exactly, which is sort of how all of my medical misadventures go so I’m kind of used to it. I should know more in a week or so when the biopsies are finished. Meh.
On the way out I (literally) ran into the anesthesiologist and I asked him if I said anything mortifying when I was under, but he smiled and gave a wink to Victor and said, “Oh, just about how much you love your husband” and I was like, “Well that’s embarrassing because this is my boyfriend. My husband’s a real bastard,” and Victor was like “Yeah, we hate that guy.”
PS. When I left they gave me a sticker that said “GET BEHIND COLON CANCER AWARENESS” and I’m not entirely sure if that phrasing was on purpose but it is my new favorite thing.