Part 2 — this picks up in the middle, so do read the previous post first
I did figure out how to make the bathroom work so I wouldn’t have to use the one in the master suite. Yay for not bothering the roommate.
Second round of cleanser was at 2 in the morning. Now just think. It takes about 3 hours to work its magic so I will be awake until about 5 am. I”m supposed to be at the facility by 7 am. It’s an hour away so that means leaving by 6, and I want a shower so that means up about 5 or 5:30. When was I going to sleep?
So up all night it was. I studied some Japanese. I wrote the previous blog post. I watched some tv. I went to the bathroom. A lot. You know that feeling your nose gets when you have a cold and you keep using kleenex, and your nose is just so chapped and sensitive that the idea of a kleenex makes it hurt? I went to the bathroom so much, that my butt felt that way about toilet paper. The phrase “that really chaps my ass” has taken on a new significance.
My roommate Fred took me to the doctor. The staff was very concerned that someone was going to come get me. They don’t like you to drive after anesthesia. I explained more than once that my friend is disabled and won’t be coming into the facility. They finally understood.
The staff were very nice, although they did keep asking me who I was and the date and my birthday. I know it’s to make sure I was lucid. They hooked me up to an IV and it was very cold running into my veins. They brought me another blanket. I was glad I brought several magazines. The waiting is the hardest part.
I finally got taken back to the scoping room. Doctor was very nice, but then I know he is. That kind of practiced nice that comes from saying the same things to every patient. He explained the procedures again (scoping from both directions, just to be sure). The anesthesiologist told me, “You might wake up at the end of the procedure and hear us talking. That’s very common, and we’re actually done at that point.” Which turned out to be a good thing, since I did wake up and hear them talking but fell right back to sleep. I’m just paranoid enough that I wonder if they didn’t have me very far under, and if I really did wake up in the middle but since they prepared me, I wrote it off. Probably not. But you never know.
I don’t even know when they drugged me since they didn’t warn me. I’m used to them having you count backwards from 100 by 7’s. One hundred, ninety three, let’s see now, eighty something, and I’m out. This time, bam! out cold, no warning. Which is okay, just unusual.
Anyway, I woke up afterwards, still groggy. Drifted in and out in recovery. The nurse brought me apple juice. I farted like a camel on a bean and cabbage diet. And yes, I felt better afterwards. Finally they decided I was good to get dressed. Putting on pants was hard, I kept losing my balance. I didn’t tell them because I was ready to get out of there.
One more time with the doctor. Well, no ulcer, no bleeding. A few polyps but he left them in place. I do however have a hiatal hernia. My dad used to say he had one and we gave him shit about it. Now I think, of course he had one, that’s why I have one. A lot of my physiology takes after my father’s side of the family. I am also developing diverticulitis, which my ex husband had. I used to give him shit about that, since he used it to avoid healthy food like vegetables. I mean, you’re an adult, just admit you don’t like tomatoes. Don’t tell me you’re allergic to them when you’re not. Well those little tomato seeds no doubt hurt like hell during digestion. As soon as he was diagnosed, I felt remorse. You’d think I’d’ve learned by now that whatever I don’t take seriously in other people, the universe has a way of bringing back to me.
So today is Sunday. Thursday I have a follow up with Gastro Guy. I’m sure he will say two things: I need to lose weight, and there is a whole list of food I’m not supposed to eat any more. I know you’re just dying for the details about all this. Haha. No, it’s just a good place for me to do a brain dump. I know this is boring.
Later this week I will post some fun things I’ve done, because there have been good times too. This just freaked me out because it’s how we found out my mom had cancer, and it killed her. I have too much to do to be that kind of sick yet.