Yesterday I flew to Oahu for tests.
On the plus side, my health insurance paid for the flight, and Target had some Missoni left.
On the minus side, the testing really sucked.
On the plus side, one of the radiology techs was a hot black guy - ex-military - who smiled as he was getting me out of the machine and said "I think I've seen you here before." which was a little twist on the "SO, you come here often?" line that I love so much.
(Will, you are my special favorite for making me smile during a difficult day.)
On the minus side, I have one of the "largest gallbladders I have ever seen - that thing is HUGE!" To which I say: Go big or go home, baby!
(Kelly you are also my special favorite - you put me at ease and answered all of my questions and explained what the test was showing - I appreciated not having the screen turned away from me and "You'll have to ask your doctor." as the response to all of my questions. She pointed the screen down to me where I was lying inside the machine, so I could watch the process. It was fascinating!)
On the plus side, they were able to run all the necessary tests at once.
On the minus side, one of those tests was the worst thing I have ever experienced.
Now, the tests didn't sound like any fun to begin with - lying flat on your back, motionless, for an hour and then a half hour. Stuck inside a machine. With an IV. But they waited until I was inside the machine to tell me that they were going to inject me with a medication that would "stimulate my gallbladder".
Translation: We are going to give you a big-assed gallbladder attack while you are stuck inside a machine flat on your back with no way to move or make yourself more comfortable.
It's a good thing I couldn't move, because if I had, the first thing I would have done would be to kick that nurse in the head (involuntarily, of course). That was horrible. Terrible. I was lying there minding my own business and suddenly it felt like I was punched directly in the stomach - from INSIDE MY STOMACH. Then I started gasping because I couldn't breath, and then I thought I was going to puke. And then I was afraid I was going to choke on my puke and die which is a very rock and roll way to go - as long as you aren't stuck inside a machine that is taking pictures of your gallbladder, in front of a hot black guy in a white lab coat who you happen to know owns a motorcycle and could make your junior high Top Gun fantasies come true. Not cool, man. Not cool at all.
On the plus side, we have a difinitive cause of my illness (the reason I've been sick since, oh....since July).
On the minus side, I think I have to have my gallbladder taken out.
On the plus side, I will be able to eat bacon again. And really, that is all I care about. That, and that I don't have cancer and my major organs aren't failing and I'm not gonna die. But you know, mostly the bacon eating thing.
11 hours ago
1 comment:
it seriously sucks that they put you through that much just to figure out it was your gall bladder. I remember it being a lot quicker of a discovery, and no gall bladder "stimulation" potion was injected into me. Jeebus.
Really glad you're going to get that sucker yanked. You should have a bacon party :)
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