Tag Archives: anesthesia

Endocolonoscopy Part II

You all know I had a colonoscopy a couple weeks ago. If you didn’t know, read this.

Everyone from the Pope to the girl at work said the worst part was the prep.

Don’t believe everything you hear. That advice right there is something we were given at a very young age, yet I went against it.

There are maybe two benefits to a colonoscopy:

1) Rapid weight loss within a 24 hour period. I don’t recommend it though because having your insides empty into a toilet bowl at the velocity of a 747 doing a nose dive is probably not so good for you; and 2) A colonoscopy can save your life.

There is something very awkward about meeting the man who will be shoving a 6′ hose where the sun really does not ever shine,\

for the first time on the actual day of said shoving.

Besides the fact that he said he had a hangover, I think it went well. He was joking by the way.

I think.

Not only will he be doing an unmentionable to you, he will be giving you a mind blowing and vomit inducing drug.

I’m pretty sure if this were a blind date, there would not be a second. This guy is everything your mother warned you about. Plus some.

The Pope and the girl at work were right about how you feel like you took a thirty second nap because before I knew it I was lying on a gurney in the recovery room with about a dozen other victims. I mean, people. Also recovering from whatever their procedure of the day was.

They sat me almost immediately in a chair, of which I did not feel ready for. Because I didn’t feel well. I didn’t feel well at all. The room was spinning and before I knew it I was yelling, “I’M GONNA THROW UP!!!”

It sure is amazing how quickly the nursing staff moves when they hear that because within 1.2 seconds I had one of those kidney shaped plastic bowl things shoved under my chin. With a nurse on one side of me and my husband on the other, I vomited who knows what exactly because there literally was nothing in my stomach.

But before that moment I have to tell you, I had a rather large bit of flatulence escape from my underside.

Did I saw large? Yes I did, and I meant it. I looked at DH in surprise and disgust. “Did that just come out of ME??? Please tell me it was the guy next door.”

So, not only did I pass gas in front of a dozen strangers but I vomited as well.

This day is not going as planned. All I had to do was burp and I would have covered all of the unpleasant bodily functions in record  time. In front of strangers. Just so you know, this was NOT on my bucket list.

So, with my head spinning and my breath smelling of vomit, my doctor came in to tell me what he claims he already told me which is weird because I don’t remember at all.

Here’s a question for you — why, if you know there is a pretty high chance that your patient is going to be, well, high, would you try to talk to them so soon?

Anyway, I had a little inflammation in my esophagus, as well as the removal of a Z-Formation. I don’t really know what that is, but he didn’t seem concerned.

During my colonoscopy, he found three polyps. They were benign but polyps can turn into cancer if left to their own devices.

Would I do it again? Of course I would. And I will. In three years. Because they found those polyps, and I not only care about my colon health, but my life.

So, the moral of the story? Go get a colonoscopy. It’s really important, and at the end of the day it wasn’t so bad. Just pretend you didn’t hear that part about the vomit.

 

Knee Deep

knee surgery

Before, During and After

The day was perfect for surgery.  Rainy, windy, disgusting.  Perfect.  Perfect for me to lie around sleeping off my anesthesia.  Which, I have to say was awesome!  The anesthesia, I mean.  Honestly, I’m so glad I didn’t cave to peer pressure when I was a teen.   Because there would have been a problem.  A serious problem.

I woke up at 5:30.  Because I had to pee.  But I didn’t get up to pee because I was too lazy.  So I laid there thinking that in less than 3 hours a surgeon would be cutting little holes in my knee.  A knee that I’ve always liked.  A knee that on our second date, DH commented on how cute it was.  I was wearing shorts.  Get your head out of the gutter.  But I wasn’t nervous.  The morning of my hysterectomy I was like a child gripping the doorway.  Kicking and screaming.  Not wanting to go.  But this definitely was less invasive.  And if I survived one bout of anesthesia, I knew I would survive another.

The nurses were super, super nice.  A little too nice, actually.  I was hoping for a bit of a Nurse Ratchet so I had something to talk about.  But, no.  It didn’t happen that way.  I got to change in an area where the only thing separating me from all the other patients was a curtain.  “Everything off except your undies.  Gown, opening in back.  Robe, opening in front.”  I’m just glad I opted for the grannies with a touch of lace instead of my usual thongs.  The entire Operating Room probably didn’t need to see my ass cheeks.  Which, by the way, no amount of running makes those suckers go up to where they were once upon a time.

They asked me the same questions over and over again.  I signed my life away a million times over and told them they better try to save my life if I die.  Okay, I didn’t say that.  But I did say I would have a blood transfusion.  That’s the same thing, right?

They wheeled me into a room.  A room they take you to before you go to the Operating Room.  Again, only separated by a curtain from the other patients.  It was like a cattle call or something.  Then the party began.  The needle containing what I could only describe as liquid heaven was inserted into the back of my hand.  “Ooh, I like this, I wouldn’t mind having a little of this every day, I don’t seem to care about a thing” was the last comment I remember saying to the doctor.  Or was it a nurse?  I don’t know.  They were all starting to look the same to me.

What seemed like 30 seconds went by.  The first face I saw was my doctor’s.  Asking if I was okay.  But boy did I feel good.  I’m sure I said something silly or stupid because that’s what I do.  But I guess I’ll never know.  Which makes me kinda sad.  They should let you record these things.  Really.  I’m not kidding.  I wonder if someone would have taken notes if I asked them?  This shall be one of my biggest regrets.

So, here I am.  With my downloaded Cow Bell app, having DH wait on me.  He’s being a very good servant man.  I’m sure by the end of this weekend, I will be on his last nerve.  But until then, a little higher to the left honey, oh and would you be a prince and fetch me a bucket.  This Vicodin makes me feel like I’m going to vomit.  Because my nerve block wore off and I’m not feeling so great anymore.  Where’s that Liquid Heaven when I need it?