Well, it’s been a few few days. Sunday I had to live on a clear liquid diet for my “procedure” yesterday. And by procedure, I mean a VERY invasive lower GI thing. Then at noon, I had to take 4, count em FOUR, laxatives. As if I wasn’t going enough. Then more clear liquids. Then at 6, I had to drink this stuff, that tasted slightly better than dishwashing soap . Well, after the first few cupfulls, I figure that if I chase it with a little Sprite, it’s not that bad. So this goes on for a while. Will bringing in the goop, and me trying to chug it with a Sprite chaser. I think it was around cup number 5 or 6 that I started getting really sick. Then it started coming back up. So we called my GI doctor and he said it was fine. We could still continue with my procedure tomorrow. Ok, so fast forward to about 2am Monday morning. My stomach is killing me. I mean moaning, groaning, crying out in pain kind of killing me. Will wakes up and pages my doctor, because according to my instructions, I can’t take any more meds. The doctor tells Will to give me whatever I need for the pain. So I take some pills and it’s off to la-la land, finally.
We get up bright and early Monday morning and head to the hospital. We get there and wait and soon enough they come to collect me. They strip me, plop on a stretcher and the fun begins. I wake up sometime later and find out that I snoozed through the procedure, the explanation by my doctor and the trip home. According to Will, the doctor found some lesions, and he biopsied some of them. He also doubled the amount of medication I’m currently taking. So I go back to see the doctor on the 25th, and in the meantime, I just get to wait and how much more fun my digestive tract has in store for me!
Man, am I cranky!