This was a week of good news and bad news. The good news: I get to keep my gall bladder. A diseased gall bladder would have been a great answer to the question “What is causing those hideous abdominal pains I get when I eat?” The bad news: there still is no answer to that question. So more tests are ordered (directly proportional to the quality of your insurance coverage, I have come to believe).
Thence, the aforementioned breakfast entree: Barium sulfate suspension. Tastes every bit as delightful as it sounds, even the fake Mochaccino flavoring added was not much of an improvement I fear – it was like drinking flavored phlegm. Two bottles of it after an 8 hour fast, and no morning coffee. Only one husband was partially decaptitated before the procedure was complete and my natural balance (caffeinated and fed) was restored.
The nuclear med tech, Gene, “offered” me yet another large styrofoam cup of the radioactive nectar before placing me on the CT scan table. I say “offered” euphemistically because he made it clear that it was not really optional. I forgave him, though, because he had beautiful green eyes like my beloved Sweet Cheeks, a soft and soothing voice, AND he inserted an IV into my right arm without my even feeling him do so. As he predicted, I felt as though I was peeing my pants when the contrast injected into the IV reached my bloodstream. And as he predicted, I really did not pee my pants.
I breathed when the machine told me to breathe, held my breath when instructed to do so, and only briefly looked into the little window that housed the laser – even though a warning posted directly below it warned me not to. I am certain my retinas will return to normal at some point.
I am awaiting the results and will meet with my surgeon Dr. Mack (the Knife) next week.