So I'm basically going to now re-paste from an email that I sent to my momzer and a few other close types today. I wasn't gonna, but then I thought "Hey! The whole world is completely DYING to know the intimate details of my digestive system!" SO! Here you go...
Since my gall bladder was removed in 1997, I've had IBS. (Hooray!) The last few years, I've also had intermittent "attacks" that feel like what I felt with gallstones. Not pleasant, to say the least, but rare enough I didn't worry over much about it.
When one of these attacks started Friday-ish, I chewed a few tums and waited for it to pass as it usually does. Eventually it did, only to come back with a vengeance a few hours later. Lather, rinse, repeat until yesterday.
Yesterday. Immediately following yet another root canal (I think this makes #7, with another 4 or 5 to go before all is said and done, but I digress...) another attack started,. Even though I had an appointment with my general practice for the next day, the pain was intense enough that I hauled myself over to the ER at the nearby hospital. They ran several tests, checked liver and pancreatic enzymes, and everything looked pretty good. Since I was slated for a Celiac Disease panel to be run at my doc's office, they decided to go ahead and run it off of the rivers of blood they had already sucked from my poor little body.
The results from the Celiac Disease test will be back in about a week.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I headed towards home with prescriptions for Prevacid and an anti-spasmodic.
Today, T and I discussed it and decided that - since our insurance does not require a referral for a specialist - we would cut out the middle man and attempt to get me into a specialist ASAP. Found a Gastroenterologist covered by our insurance and called them up. They were booking 2 months out (!!!) but had happened to have a rare cancellation for this afternoon, and could I come in at 3:30? ( You bet yer sweet bippies I could! )
SO! After taking a good history (first time a doc has actually paid attention and asked good probing questions about family history and my possibly inter-related symptoms) my new favorite Doctor (one of the top 10 docs in the DC area according to Washingtonian Magazine, as evidenced by the framed cover on the wall of her office) said she wants a CT scan ASAP.
I'll be going for an abdominal/pelvic CT scan on Thursday morning, which could rule out several things right off the bat. (ovarian cysts, obvious masses, and other stuff I can't remember because the boys were with me and generally screaming as loud as they could.)
So after the CT and once the results from the CD serology tests are back, I will find out if I need to have an endoscopy and biopsy done, and possibly a colonoscopy. (FUN for kids of all ages!)
For the present, the Gastro Doc says she definitely wants me to take the daily Prevacid, and use the anti-spasm drug for my "intes-tynes" (must be said with a slow, west-virginia drawl) as needed.
If anyone wants to know more about celiac disease, http://www.wikipedia.org has some good info.
I guess that's really it for now. Could be nothing. Could be something. Either way? It'll be taken care of, and the tummy aches should soon be a distant memory. If the CD test is positive, you will know it because you will distinctly hear the reality-shattering scream of pain and loss that accompanies the realization that I actually have to give up bread. Because bread? Is life. And Bread and Cheese and Red Wine and Chocolate? They're like a family... the staples of edible joy that make life worth living. And I would really really miss bread.
But hey. That's all the future, and for the moment it's neither here nor there.
Between the boys being sick, family tragedies, and my own tummy troubles... well, I've been incommunicado of late, to say the least. I'm not gone for good, just out in the Big Blue Room experiencing the life I had previously been watching through the window.
I promise to report back when next I come in from the cold. Because I just KNOW you're hanging on every word as soon as the phrase "spastic colon" comes up. You're masochistic like that... and you should probably seek help immediately.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
No Words.
It has been a strange few days. Without going into over-much detail on a topic which I'm still struggling to wrap my brain around, my brother and his darling wife had to bid farewell to their baby girl this week.
They never got to say a proper hello. She was 37 weeks due, and was gone before she got to come into the world.
I'm a bit weary today. I'm taking a few days to rest, nurse a toothache, and wait for the icy roads to clear. In case anyone is looking for me.
-MeL
They never got to say a proper hello. She was 37 weeks due, and was gone before she got to come into the world.
I'm a bit weary today. I'm taking a few days to rest, nurse a toothache, and wait for the icy roads to clear. In case anyone is looking for me.
-MeL
Monday, February 12, 2007
I've Been Writing. Just Not Here.
I've been flexing my writing muscle lately. Just little things, self-assigned essays here and there on a myriad of topics. I feel like I'm working up to something good, but not a clue yet as to what it might be.
For the moment, though, here is this morning's pontification on the drive home. Not today, of course, as today is late winter and not nearly as pretty as it was back September. In that vein, let's call this "September's Drive".
*****************************************
Route 9 meandered through the hills on those outlying reaches of Northern Virginia, winding between upstart neighborhoods with their sprawling estates and shiny sport utility vehicles. The new construction was incongruous to the sprawling landscape, and the houses gazed at each other across their grassy meadows as though surprised to find their suburban splendor exiled to this lonely place.
The road curved off and away, further out into the countryside. Only here and there was the blank horizon dotted with ramshackle houses and the occassional unmarked dirt road. Out on the down slope of an unremarkable hillside stood a solemn old farmhouse. Antiquated plows and harvesters tucked snugly up under the well-seasoned planks of its eaves. An ancient American flag was stretched and tacked to the exterior wall, flanked on either side with buntings that had long ago faded in the eastern sun.
Soon fences rose up and dotted the hillsides, blending into the slopes. They blurred into weathered rows of trellis, clamboring with thick vines and heavy with fat, purple grapes. Modest, hand-painted signs named the myriad vineyards. A few announced seasonal dates, hours for tours.
The landscape dropped off sharply as the hills rose higher and higher into the Shenandoahs. The trees swooped up on either side of the road, ensconcing it swiftyly and silently in dappled shadows before shuttering out the sun entirely. The dark woods, foreboding in the bare starkness of winter, were lush and green and comfortable in the shaded relief from the
late-summer sun.
Here, tiny cottages and run-down trailers hid among the rich foliage. Small signs of civilization began to peek out at the road - a small restaurant with signs advertising Keno games, a faded yellow pawn shop, an incongruous elementary school. The curves in the road grew sharper as they slalomed back down the side of the mountain, as though the road were enjoying an exuberant frolic down the slope after the relentless climb to the top.
The trees and vines fell away without warning, and a gleaming cement bridge crossed the broad expanse of the river. Below, the calm water was dotted with the fluorescent craft of the river-rafters and the occassional kayak, heading off downstream in pursuit of the frothier adventures to be found there.
There was a sharp bend in the road, a billboard announcing a new housing construction project just down the way, and suddenly the empty farmland stretched away and was filled with the imposing form of a huge cathedral. In the sunlight it was the color of dried blood, capped with an alabaster spire that stabbed into the clear blue sky. A small cement sign, just past
this incomprehensible house of worship, announced the entrance to a modest subdivision.
At last, then. Home.
For the moment, though, here is this morning's pontification on the drive home. Not today, of course, as today is late winter and not nearly as pretty as it was back September. In that vein, let's call this "September's Drive".
*****************************************
Route 9 meandered through the hills on those outlying reaches of Northern Virginia, winding between upstart neighborhoods with their sprawling estates and shiny sport utility vehicles. The new construction was incongruous to the sprawling landscape, and the houses gazed at each other across their grassy meadows as though surprised to find their suburban splendor exiled to this lonely place.
The road curved off and away, further out into the countryside. Only here and there was the blank horizon dotted with ramshackle houses and the occassional unmarked dirt road. Out on the down slope of an unremarkable hillside stood a solemn old farmhouse. Antiquated plows and harvesters tucked snugly up under the well-seasoned planks of its eaves. An ancient American flag was stretched and tacked to the exterior wall, flanked on either side with buntings that had long ago faded in the eastern sun.
Soon fences rose up and dotted the hillsides, blending into the slopes. They blurred into weathered rows of trellis, clamboring with thick vines and heavy with fat, purple grapes. Modest, hand-painted signs named the myriad vineyards. A few announced seasonal dates, hours for tours.
The landscape dropped off sharply as the hills rose higher and higher into the Shenandoahs. The trees swooped up on either side of the road, ensconcing it swiftyly and silently in dappled shadows before shuttering out the sun entirely. The dark woods, foreboding in the bare starkness of winter, were lush and green and comfortable in the shaded relief from the
late-summer sun.
Here, tiny cottages and run-down trailers hid among the rich foliage. Small signs of civilization began to peek out at the road - a small restaurant with signs advertising Keno games, a faded yellow pawn shop, an incongruous elementary school. The curves in the road grew sharper as they slalomed back down the side of the mountain, as though the road were enjoying an exuberant frolic down the slope after the relentless climb to the top.
The trees and vines fell away without warning, and a gleaming cement bridge crossed the broad expanse of the river. Below, the calm water was dotted with the fluorescent craft of the river-rafters and the occassional kayak, heading off downstream in pursuit of the frothier adventures to be found there.
There was a sharp bend in the road, a billboard announcing a new housing construction project just down the way, and suddenly the empty farmland stretched away and was filled with the imposing form of a huge cathedral. In the sunlight it was the color of dried blood, capped with an alabaster spire that stabbed into the clear blue sky. A small cement sign, just past
this incomprehensible house of worship, announced the entrance to a modest subdivision.
At last, then. Home.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
You Don't Know How Lucky You Are.
So I had typed up a very explicit retelling of the ordeal with the dog and his rectum yesterday, but it appears that blogger has more sympathy for your sensitivities than I do. The whole post somehow got eaten, and I am left staring at a blank page at oh-dark-thirty.
I should be sleeping, but I have been panting over my Stylehive bookmarks, attempting to get some good stuff up there in a vain attempt to be worthy of the listing they gave to AlternaMom on their blogroll. I'd link to it, but my internets tubes are apparently clogged, and I'm too lazy to look for a direct link on the google at the moment.
Did I mention that it is snowing? Like REALLY snowing? We've been instructed to expect upwards of 5 or 6 inches by morning, and just an hour or so away there was apparently a Thunder-Snow-Storm which lasted 45 minutes or so. I've never seen lightning in the snow, but I suspect it's one of those things I would regret missing if I gave into this assinine urge to go to sleep and maintain my sanity. So, I've been sitting here on the sofa, just listening in the silence for a muffled crack of thunder.
Time to surrender, though, or the next "crack of thunder" I hear will be the dog barking at me to put him in his bed... or it will be T, barking at me to get myself into bed.
I should be sleeping, but I have been panting over my Stylehive bookmarks, attempting to get some good stuff up there in a vain attempt to be worthy of the listing they gave to AlternaMom on their blogroll. I'd link to it, but my internets tubes are apparently clogged, and I'm too lazy to look for a direct link on the google at the moment.
Did I mention that it is snowing? Like REALLY snowing? We've been instructed to expect upwards of 5 or 6 inches by morning, and just an hour or so away there was apparently a Thunder-Snow-Storm which lasted 45 minutes or so. I've never seen lightning in the snow, but I suspect it's one of those things I would regret missing if I gave into this assinine urge to go to sleep and maintain my sanity. So, I've been sitting here on the sofa, just listening in the silence for a muffled crack of thunder.
Time to surrender, though, or the next "crack of thunder" I hear will be the dog barking at me to put him in his bed... or it will be T, barking at me to get myself into bed.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Did I Not Mention I Was Taking A Vacation?
Oh no no, not a real vacation. Just a "Blogation" as it were. Things have been so insane, so ridiculously busy, that I actually managed to misplace my blogging bug for a bit. But
Fear Not, devout, adoring masses. (*cough*)
Why, just this morning I got to remove a 14 inch strip of pig hide from the dog's rectum. WITH MY HANDS.
SEE? I'm full of all kinds of thrilling adventures to share! You can rest assured I will continue to thrill you with such anecdotes as "How I ate a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, and topped it with the very last of the smoked salmon, and how I feel absolutely no guilt about that."
Oh, and the Chai-Spiced Coffee Creamer? Sounds heavenly in theory, but I have found it is not-so-much-heavenly in the actual consumption. Ah well. A drop or two combined with (look away Mocha) .......powdered creamer (from WalMart, no less. I'm an insult to coffee lovers everywhere, ain't I just?) and the Chai stuff is at least somewhat palatable.
Ah well. My afternoon Toffee Coffee from Barney's Coffee and Tea Company pretty much made up for it. I sipped it while the boys clamored about the indoor play area at the (not-so) local mall. I also shelled out the 3 bucks so the boys and I could take the 3 minute "train" ride on the mini train that drives around the ground level of the mall. They loved it, and my feet loved the rest.
All in all? A good day. I capped it off by purchasing a pair of funky black pants from the Suburban Mom Uniform Supply Company (also sometimes called "Old Navy"). They're cute, they were on clearance for $6.97, and if you squint really hard and turn your head to a 41 degree angle they even make my bum look almost perky. Also, it might help if you are legally blind... and perhaps brewing some cataracts. But I'll take what I can get. And... Hey! New Pants!
Fear Not, devout, adoring masses. (*cough*)
Why, just this morning I got to remove a 14 inch strip of pig hide from the dog's rectum. WITH MY HANDS.
SEE? I'm full of all kinds of thrilling adventures to share! You can rest assured I will continue to thrill you with such anecdotes as "How I ate a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, and topped it with the very last of the smoked salmon, and how I feel absolutely no guilt about that."
Oh, and the Chai-Spiced Coffee Creamer? Sounds heavenly in theory, but I have found it is not-so-much-heavenly in the actual consumption. Ah well. A drop or two combined with (look away Mocha) .......powdered creamer (from WalMart, no less. I'm an insult to coffee lovers everywhere, ain't I just?) and the Chai stuff is at least somewhat palatable.
Ah well. My afternoon Toffee Coffee from Barney's Coffee and Tea Company pretty much made up for it. I sipped it while the boys clamored about the indoor play area at the (not-so) local mall. I also shelled out the 3 bucks so the boys and I could take the 3 minute "train" ride on the mini train that drives around the ground level of the mall. They loved it, and my feet loved the rest.
All in all? A good day. I capped it off by purchasing a pair of funky black pants from the Suburban Mom Uniform Supply Company (also sometimes called "Old Navy"). They're cute, they were on clearance for $6.97, and if you squint really hard and turn your head to a 41 degree angle they even make my bum look almost perky. Also, it might help if you are legally blind... and perhaps brewing some cataracts. But I'll take what I can get. And... Hey! New Pants!
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