While we were at Trout Lodge, something crazy happened that led me to call my doctor once again for the Mystery Abdominal Thing. Long story short? We scheduled a CT scan!
Lady at Scheduling: Your test will be on Thursday at 3:30, but we’ll need you to be here at 2:30 for registration. AND, you’ll need to stop eating and drinking at 11:30 so we can get an accurate result.
Me: Okay and okay!
So, last Thursday morning I stopped eating at 11:00 (Can you guess how many microwave s’mores I ate between 10:50 and 11:00? The answer is Three!), and I parked the Hyundai at 2:22. (I remember the time because I tend to make a wish when I look at the clock and it’s 11:11 or 2:22 or 4:44 or something similar. I’m four years old!)
Registration Lady: Go ahead and fill out these forms, and one of the nurses will bring you something to drink in just a minute.
Me: Excellent! I hope it’s root beer. (Did I mention that I’m four years old?)
This is starting to get boring, so take a deep breath and Here We Go!
It was not root beer. It was two gigantic cups of a barium cocktail that tasted like orange coconut poison and while I was drinking it, they called me back to start an IV, and I had no idea THAT was part of the deal, but I’m pretty flexible so whatever, and they started the IV in the crook of my right arm and I gulped the poison, and thirty minutes later they put me on the table and I had to scootch my skirt down to my knees because of the zipper, and when the nurse went to put the stuff into my IV, the IV didn’t work correctly and the stuff infiltrated and BURNING ARM! SO they went to start an IV in my left arm crook (I’m loving using the word crook, by the way), and my veins were rolling too much and YEESH! PAIN! They tried the top of my left forearm instead and still with the rolling and double the pain (maybe even triple) and YEEOWWW! So they called a nurse in from the main hospital who jabbed me on my right forearm (My skirt was still around my knees! Were you wondering about that?) and it worked, but as I was pumping my hand to give her some hefty vein action, my original IV site started secretly spurting and suddenly there was a fat puddle of blood all over my arm, and holy crap. Wooooozzzzzzzyyyyyyyy!
Nurse (pushing the stuff into my IV): I’m pushing this through, and you might feel a warm sensation that sort of feels like you’re peeing in your pants, but don’t worry. You’re not peeing.
Me: I think I’m peeing.
Nurse: You’re not peeing.
Me: This has been an incredible day.
Less than two minutes later, the entire procedure was finished. AND, I can’t really complain because The Pokers were all really nice people, and I suppose I can simply blame my ancestors for my weirdo veins, right? Right-o!
So, anyway. A few of you have e-mailed to ask if I’ve had my gallbladder removed yet. I have not! Because, according to the tests, Governor Gallbladder is an upstanding member of the Angela Pudding Abdominal Organ Population.
Side story: When all of this abdominal stuff started up, I said something to Jeff like, “You know, watch this be a really embarrassing diagnosis that involves one of the following terms: rectum, anus, stool, sphincter, fissures, or yucky vagina.”
When the doctor called with my CT scan results, he actually used one of those terms coupled with the word “abnormal.” (It was not Abnormal Yucky Vagina.)
So, yeah. Here we are. It’s nothing serious, so please don’t bother to wish me well. Just know that I’ll be seeing a gastroenterologist a week from Friday! AND, according to my research, he’s also a pianist!
34 thoughts on “Lack of Intestinal Fortitude, Chapter 43”
I had an IV once and it involved my anus and stool..yeah me!
I didn’t care for the IV at all and your post almost made me pass out.
Hey, I had one of those! With similar results! My veins are tiny and tend to roll, so when nice-but-petite-and-apparently-weak nurse lady started to go exploring with the needle in my arm, I said “HEY! I’M PROBABLY GOING TO PASS OUT SOON!” and she started to panic “Please don’t! don’t! I’m not strong enough to lift you!” and I thought that’s weird, because I’m laying in a reclining chair already. Why would she need to lift me? And that curious thought kept me from passing out.
except yeah it totally DOES feel like you’re peeing your pants! I wonder why that is?
Anus! Stool! Kool and the Gang! (My apologies for stirring up the memories, MP.)
ESC—If you pass out, I suppose they lift you high into the air and practice dead weight figure skating maneuvers. It makes sense, no? (I need to Google “it gave me a warm peeing sensation.” Or, maybe not.)
I have been known to say to the lab person, “left arm. Left arm only.”
And, “tie the tourniquet tighter.”
And, “you’re using a butterfly, right?”
Lab people LOVE me.
And I swear, one of the reasons I went “au natural” (mostly) with child #2 is because I hated the IV.
Glad you get to keep your gall bladder!
You are my intestinal distress/wishing at 11:11/ rolling vein/burning arm (possible vein pop)/ the Devil’s Orangina on Ice/ not-really-peeing/ abnormality twin, for which I am sorry. I did make a gall bladder offering last month but am still having problems, so I’m curious to learn how things go for you. ‘Happy Gut Wishes’ is a not a Facebook App but should be.
1. I have rotten veins and also beg for the butterfly.
2. And I wish on 2:22 and such.
3. In my Google Reader feed, this was next to your post: http://www.feministing.com/archives/017081.html
Ugh, I’m another multiple site pricker (prickee?). Something about super thin nonexistent veins…IVs kill me every time.
Oh. . . Angela! I nearly passed out reading this. The last time they had to check my blood, which was nearly a year ago, I passed out cold. It was one of those stupid fasting things, and then the adrenaline kicks in, and yeah. It was ugly. Which is why I check with all my doctors to make sure whatever test anybody wants is included because I can only handle this about once a year, I tell you.
I always tell them they can have the nice, fat, juicy vein in the left arm. Invariably, someone takes this as a challenge and goes for the right however there are apparently no veins in my right arm. Not a clue how it functions. Maybe unbeknownst to me, I have a bionic robot arm – it would explain why no one can find a vein there! I had to have the three-hour gestational diabetes test so I’m with you on arm sticks. There’s a reason it’s abbreviated GD!
Also, boo abnormal but yay diagnosis.
Now I want a cheese sandwich with horseradish.
I continue to follow this exhaustive(ing) medical journey!
Glad it’s nothing super serious.
My veins are apparently anti-IV also. Oh, the IV horror I went through when I was in the hospital in labor with my 1st son. Ever since then, and 2 labors after that, it’s not the actual labor or procedure or whatever I’m concerned with, it’s the stupid IV.
I am in love with horseradish cheddar. Did you know it exists? It does! Right at the supermarket deli counter. It’s magical to add to homemade mac and cheese.
Your talk of rolling veins made me feel all icky inside. And medicine that makes you feel like you’re peeing your pants???? I feel like that half the time already!
aaahhh, oh gosh, stories about needles and veins make me feel so faint…
glad you’re ok.
i buy a lottery ticket when i see a lot of 11:11’s in a row.
THERE’S AN IV INVOLVED? I did not sign up for that AT ALL. WTF?
Great, now I’m freakin’ terrified of my CT scan on Friday.
Heartless hospital bastards.
(Glad you have a better idea of what might be wrong and that all will be well. It’s not all about me after all.)
Best of luck to you! I had all those same tests done last year (it really does feel like you are peeing in your pants!) and they still don’t know what the heck is wrong with me. I hope your gastro can fix you up and maybe play you a tune too.
SO glad it’s not yucky vagina, cause that’s just nasty. What is it? Will you still be able to dance with Robinson next year?
whomever DOESN’T wish on 11:11 or 2:22 (or for me 6:11, my birthday) is a loser. I mean, come on, if you don’t wish, you can’t get, right? I also wish on trucks full of hay. Always have, always will.
Glad you’re OK.
As a fellow Saint Louisan, there’s a slim chance your gastro is Dr. Cusworth – if so, he’s a good egg.
Ah, Pumpkin. So sorry about the IV but celebrating the non serious abnormality.
Hmmm…he plays the piano. He has good hands.
(I leap like a gazelle)
Keep us posted!
I have the vein issues too, but I do not have any idea what the butterfly deal is! Someone enlighten me before my next blood draw.
Due to surgery complications, last spring I was in the hospital, on restricted fluids and needing blood draws 3 or 4 times a day. My already bad veins disappeared and they had to bring in multiple nurses to try to get blood etc. I wish I had had a butterfly.
Ah, now that just sucks. I had a kidney scan some years ago where they were supposed to inject dye into my veins & the nurse went right through the vein & all the dye went into my arm. I had a bruise from my wrist up to my armpit. You have my sympathies. Are you sure you meant “pianist”?
Rots of Ruck!
The only thing worse than an abnormal sphincter (assuming yours is abnormal) would be an abnormal yucky vagina, which I pray is as redundant as it sounds. Still, abnormalities make us special, so you’ve got that.
(keeling over in Cupertino)
FP, seriously…”nothing serious”??
“Don’t bother to wish (you) well”???
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
Seriously, girl, you underestimate your readers, yet again!
Well wishes galore heading your way from here whether you like it or not!
I am glad that it’s nothing serious, and I’m glad that your gall bladder is okay as well.
I don’t understand why people are calling people “heartless” . Those people are the ones helping to diagnose you and your symptoms. It’s your physician or the person giving you your pre-test instructions that should be telling you about the IV’s (and c’mon, it could be so much worse).
I have rolling veins too and I always warn them. I find it interesting that the Red Cross people never have a hard time getting blood when I donate, but the people at the doctor’s office poke me several times and often still fail to get a good vein. I suspect that they don’t do it often enough or aren’t a very good phlebotomist (love that word).
oh dear. I’ll never sleep now.
I squirmed all over the place while reading this post, and then when I came to the photo of your elbow crooks (excellent word indeed) my vision went black around the edges.
I hope the yucky abnormality is easily treated both for your sake, and your readers.
(That sounded harsher than intended. I’ll give you a bashful cyber hug and a ‘get well’ wish too to make up).
You make me smile. (It’s a rare gift you have there).
Being a rather large fellow, I have veins like downspouts but my wife is a petite lass that has to endure similar things when she gets a stick. While I know that we (your readers) live life with tongue firmly planted in cheek, I thought my fellow pudding-heads might be amused to know that those “mean hospital people” maybe a tad more sympathetic than you think… for good reason too.
My wife is a nurse and a recent graduate at that. As result she (and the other newly minted, recently hired nurses) had to practice doing sticks the other day… on each other… repeatedly. She came home from work looking like she had swapped arms with a junkie. Needless to say, driving home is a bit of a challenge if one cannot bend his/her arms.
As she described her day, I was rapidly flashing between sympathy and amusement..but I only let the sympathy show…at least I think so. Probably not, now that I think about it.
You certainly know how to bring out the tiny vein people! Of which group I am also one, and I will never understand why the phlebotomy station at my local clinic is refrigerated to a brisk 37°F. They want our veins to wrap around our very bones to stay warm? I hope you get to the bottom *ahem* of your GI situation tout suite.
I am too lazy to read the above comments, but just in case no one has said this yet: THE PEEING-IV THING IS CRAZY. I had that exact IV a few years ago and I was very thankful that they warned me first. Wouldn’t want to break my no-peeing-in-pants record.
Is that peeing thing not The Wierdest Thing? So odd, I’m thinking “Oh I know I’m not peeing, that’s just silly, hey am I peeing????”
I am sorry, even if it’s nothing SuperAnallyHideous, it’s still fairly unpleasant in all the unpleasantest ways. On the upside, now all the playground mommas will think you are a novice junkie. Ice breaker!
Sorry your guts are still owie. OMG – I so need these kids to go back to school so I can remember how to speak like a grown up again.
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