New Year; Not New Issues...
I have been pretty miserable since the start of the New Year. This isn't going to be a refective post. It's going to be a post about stomach pain and going to the doctor. I shared this already on facebook, but decided to put it all together in a blog post.
Part 1:
I went to the doctor this morning for severe pain in my abdomen and sometimes in back. Some tests were ordered. First test, was a blood test. I sat down in the seat and rolled up my sleeve. My mind flashed to images of past needles that I have had stuck in my for medical purposes (and the tattoo). As a child, I was -- as most children are -- frightened to death of needles. However, as I grew, I developed a morbid curiousity with the concept of being stuck with things and so I would literally watch the needle go in as blood was drawn. Of course, I would feel a pin prick and it would hurt a little, but I was always relaxed and played it quite cool when it occured. As images of needles being stuck in my arm flashed through my mind, the nurse places three viles on the counter and explained that she intended to fill them all with my blood. When I had woken up this morning, I was in pain and felt nauseas. I vomitted just before leaving for the doctor and was still very nauseas at the time of the visit (having the doctor note that they noticed you sleeping in your car before the appointment helps your cause when you say that you are not well -- but that's a story for another time). The nurse put another object on the table next to me and began to open it. It was the needle. All I said was "... um..." and I put my hand to my head. She put the needle to the side out of my range of vision and said, "You're looking pale; would you like to try this laying down?" I tried to explain that "this has never happened to me before" and that I usually watch the needle go in and I have never... I stopped talking and started giggling. Was I seriously about to faint while getting blood drawn? The nurse stood and motioned for me to follow her to a room where I could lie down. As I stood, the room began to spin... I took a few steps gingerly and soon realized that the nurse was now helping to a new room with an exam table that I quickly crawled up and curled up on. "Let me know when you think you're ready," the nurse said. I continued to babble and giggle about this sort of thing not happening to me. The doctor came in to check on me and another nurse. They all told me how this sort of thing is common and they all know someone who has fainted when having their blood taken. They didn't seem to believe me that I normally watch blood being taken out of morbid curiousity and I have never fainted before... This somewhat bothered, but also made me laugh more. During the chatting and my giggling (and the doctor telling me he liked my shoes), the nurse took my blood... THREE TIMES! I didn't pass out... but I was brought a glass of water to sip on and I remained on the exam table for about 30 minutes before going on to my x-ray...
And part 2:
Still feeling somewhat nauseas/faint, I navigated the labrynth-like hallways of Nathan Littauer hospital. I found the Registration area and after waiting for the person in front of me "register," I stepped up to the desk and smiled as best I could as I handed the lady the printout that I was given that ordered the test. She tried to find me "in the system" (why are there always systems? And why is your name never in them when it is supposed to be?) and failed multiple times. I said with the post politeness I could muster in my state of almost-passing-out-a-half-hour-ago, "I was, like, just given this from my doctor and told to come here..." She proceeded to make multiple phone calls. I sat down the floor. When she finished the last phone call, she told me to "just go over to Radiology; they are expecting you." I thanked her and apologized for sitting on the floor. She told me which way to go. I walked around a corner didn't see a single sign that said "Radiology," but I saw a sign that said "X-Ray," so I went there. It was the right place. She was expecting me. I said, "Apparently, I'm being a pain in the ass." She assured me that I wasn't the one being a pain and why didn't "registration register" me. I agreed with her. Shortly after that, I was lead by a person (radiologist? She told me her name, but not her title) to a room where I changed into a gown. She told me to leave my shoes and socks on. I walked out of the changing area in a hospital gown, black socks and black shoes (the shoes that my doctor said he liked). The untitled woman jokingly said, "nice outfit." I said, "This gown totally does not match these shoes." I'm freaking hilarious when I'm nauseas/faint/lacking sleep and in pain. She lead me to the X-ray room and had me lay down on table. She adjusted the thing ("thing" being something above me that I'm assuming has something to do with taking the x-ray) and told me to take a deep breath. She told me exhale and not move as she walked away. Two seconds later she returned and told me to breath normally and that she was going to "check the film" to make sure it came out. About a minute later she returned. She said, "we are going to do one more." I said, "oops. Did I move?" She said, "no. You did fine." I giggled and said, "Oh. So, you screwed up." She went about her business setting up the "thing" again and explained that it came out fine, but the test that the doctor ordered required a variety of organs to be x-rayed and the x-ray she took missed some of my organs. She said, "Some people need x-rays to get all the organs in." In my near state-of-passing-out, I blurted out (jokingly, I swear!), "Are you saying I'm fat?" The untitled woman responded straight faced that it wasn't the case at all, and in fact, I'm "long," which is what required the extra x-ray. (If I'm "long" at 5'7," I wonder how many x-rays tall guys need?). I started laughing uncontrolably. I apologized profusely. I may have said, "I'm only fuckin' with ya!" But I can't remember for certain. After the second x-ray, she said she got "everything." I continued apologizing, which seems to be something I do a lot to health care professionals when I'm having tests done to see if I'm dying...
Part 3:
Back in 2008, I had a similarly woeful and yet hilarious situation in which I found myself in need of health professionals. Rather than rehash the whole story, I will provide a link to the blog entry that I wrote shortly after the ordeal:
http://jamesfred.blogspot.com/2008/07/worst-feeling-in-world.html
Part 4:
I left the hospital after my x-ray and stopped into work shortly to drop off my doctors note. At the time, all I had to go on was that I'm severely constipated and the cause of it could be something in my pancreas or gallbladder. My appendix felt "fine," apparently. I stopped at the grocery store to buy more gingerale and some gatorade. The doctor suggested that I treat the constipation for now -- because "there is definitely something in there," despite my not eating for a day and a half -- until he found out more from the x-ray. I spent most of the day sleeping or writhing in pain. The nausesness steadily went away, but each time I took a sip of gingerale/gatorade mix, my stomach exploded with acid. I also developed a wicked headache, which is probably from lack of nutrition. I received a phone call from my doctor's office a little after 5. The receptionist passed on info from the doctor. The receptionis confirmed the constipation and added that the x-ray showed...
Kidney Stones. Yes. Stones. As in, more than one.
The receptionist didn't say how many or how big, but I am being set up with a urologist in the meantime. I was also advised to go the ER if I'm in more pain.
Currently, I'm doing pretty well (which is why I am writing about it), but I'm also still kind of nauseas. I'm going to continue with the gingerale/gatorade mix until I feel like I can handle saltine crackers. Yum. Looking forward to it.
Part 1:
I went to the doctor this morning for severe pain in my abdomen and sometimes in back. Some tests were ordered. First test, was a blood test. I sat down in the seat and rolled up my sleeve. My mind flashed to images of past needles that I have had stuck in my for medical purposes (and the tattoo). As a child, I was -- as most children are -- frightened to death of needles. However, as I grew, I developed a morbid curiousity with the concept of being stuck with things and so I would literally watch the needle go in as blood was drawn. Of course, I would feel a pin prick and it would hurt a little, but I was always relaxed and played it quite cool when it occured. As images of needles being stuck in my arm flashed through my mind, the nurse places three viles on the counter and explained that she intended to fill them all with my blood. When I had woken up this morning, I was in pain and felt nauseas. I vomitted just before leaving for the doctor and was still very nauseas at the time of the visit (having the doctor note that they noticed you sleeping in your car before the appointment helps your cause when you say that you are not well -- but that's a story for another time). The nurse put another object on the table next to me and began to open it. It was the needle. All I said was "... um..." and I put my hand to my head. She put the needle to the side out of my range of vision and said, "You're looking pale; would you like to try this laying down?" I tried to explain that "this has never happened to me before" and that I usually watch the needle go in and I have never... I stopped talking and started giggling. Was I seriously about to faint while getting blood drawn? The nurse stood and motioned for me to follow her to a room where I could lie down. As I stood, the room began to spin... I took a few steps gingerly and soon realized that the nurse was now helping to a new room with an exam table that I quickly crawled up and curled up on. "Let me know when you think you're ready," the nurse said. I continued to babble and giggle about this sort of thing not happening to me. The doctor came in to check on me and another nurse. They all told me how this sort of thing is common and they all know someone who has fainted when having their blood taken. They didn't seem to believe me that I normally watch blood being taken out of morbid curiousity and I have never fainted before... This somewhat bothered, but also made me laugh more. During the chatting and my giggling (and the doctor telling me he liked my shoes), the nurse took my blood... THREE TIMES! I didn't pass out... but I was brought a glass of water to sip on and I remained on the exam table for about 30 minutes before going on to my x-ray...
And part 2:
Still feeling somewhat nauseas/faint, I navigated the labrynth-like hallways of Nathan Littauer hospital. I found the Registration area and after waiting for the person in front of me "register," I stepped up to the desk and smiled as best I could as I handed the lady the printout that I was given that ordered the test. She tried to find me "in the system" (why are there always systems? And why is your name never in them when it is supposed to be?) and failed multiple times. I said with the post politeness I could muster in my state of almost-passing-out-a-half-hour-ago, "I was, like, just given this from my doctor and told to come here..." She proceeded to make multiple phone calls. I sat down the floor. When she finished the last phone call, she told me to "just go over to Radiology; they are expecting you." I thanked her and apologized for sitting on the floor. She told me which way to go. I walked around a corner didn't see a single sign that said "Radiology," but I saw a sign that said "X-Ray," so I went there. It was the right place. She was expecting me. I said, "Apparently, I'm being a pain in the ass." She assured me that I wasn't the one being a pain and why didn't "registration register" me. I agreed with her. Shortly after that, I was lead by a person (radiologist? She told me her name, but not her title) to a room where I changed into a gown. She told me to leave my shoes and socks on. I walked out of the changing area in a hospital gown, black socks and black shoes (the shoes that my doctor said he liked). The untitled woman jokingly said, "nice outfit." I said, "This gown totally does not match these shoes." I'm freaking hilarious when I'm nauseas/faint/lacking sleep and in pain. She lead me to the X-ray room and had me lay down on table. She adjusted the thing ("thing" being something above me that I'm assuming has something to do with taking the x-ray) and told me to take a deep breath. She told me exhale and not move as she walked away. Two seconds later she returned and told me to breath normally and that she was going to "check the film" to make sure it came out. About a minute later she returned. She said, "we are going to do one more." I said, "oops. Did I move?" She said, "no. You did fine." I giggled and said, "Oh. So, you screwed up." She went about her business setting up the "thing" again and explained that it came out fine, but the test that the doctor ordered required a variety of organs to be x-rayed and the x-ray she took missed some of my organs. She said, "Some people need x-rays to get all the organs in." In my near state-of-passing-out, I blurted out (jokingly, I swear!), "Are you saying I'm fat?" The untitled woman responded straight faced that it wasn't the case at all, and in fact, I'm "long," which is what required the extra x-ray. (If I'm "long" at 5'7," I wonder how many x-rays tall guys need?). I started laughing uncontrolably. I apologized profusely. I may have said, "I'm only fuckin' with ya!" But I can't remember for certain. After the second x-ray, she said she got "everything." I continued apologizing, which seems to be something I do a lot to health care professionals when I'm having tests done to see if I'm dying...
Part 3:
Back in 2008, I had a similarly woeful and yet hilarious situation in which I found myself in need of health professionals. Rather than rehash the whole story, I will provide a link to the blog entry that I wrote shortly after the ordeal:
http://jamesfred.blogspot.com/2008/07/worst-feeling-in-world.html
Part 4:
I left the hospital after my x-ray and stopped into work shortly to drop off my doctors note. At the time, all I had to go on was that I'm severely constipated and the cause of it could be something in my pancreas or gallbladder. My appendix felt "fine," apparently. I stopped at the grocery store to buy more gingerale and some gatorade. The doctor suggested that I treat the constipation for now -- because "there is definitely something in there," despite my not eating for a day and a half -- until he found out more from the x-ray. I spent most of the day sleeping or writhing in pain. The nausesness steadily went away, but each time I took a sip of gingerale/gatorade mix, my stomach exploded with acid. I also developed a wicked headache, which is probably from lack of nutrition. I received a phone call from my doctor's office a little after 5. The receptionist passed on info from the doctor. The receptionis confirmed the constipation and added that the x-ray showed...
Kidney Stones. Yes. Stones. As in, more than one.
The receptionist didn't say how many or how big, but I am being set up with a urologist in the meantime. I was also advised to go the ER if I'm in more pain.
Currently, I'm doing pretty well (which is why I am writing about it), but I'm also still kind of nauseas. I'm going to continue with the gingerale/gatorade mix until I feel like I can handle saltine crackers. Yum. Looking forward to it.