And what a welcome it wasn’t

So back on Halloween I go to lunch late and choose some ribs. They look great and I’m hungry. Guess I didn’t chew well and get a big hunk stuck in my esophagus. After trying everything I can think of I drive 90 miles home and my wife comes home and said the lady she was talking to at Cheer Leading practice said we should go to the ER to avoid worse things that could happen if we didn’t get it taken care of. So we did. Everything went well and I was able to eat when we got home and go to bed and sleep. Follow up a couple of weeks later and the doc says he tested me for the bacteria that causes ulcers and I’ve got ’em. Also wants to stretch my esophagus after treating me for the bacteria which includes a triple attach by a quadruple dose of antibiotics along with prilosec. And since I’m over 50 it’s time to do the scope at the other end for the colon. Because of shifting jobs and new insurance and a desire to miss as little work as possible I schedule for MLK day about a month and a half away. Otherwise the treatment seems to work. No more trouble swallowing (although to be fair I probably chew food better now). No more acid reflux. Life is better.

January 20 arrives and the days of hell begin. Drink this lemon stuff. Wait an hour or two and start drinking this industrial cleaning solution know a a laxative to some laced with Gatorade.   64 ounces in 8 ounce portions every 20 minutes.  If you can work it in during or between trips to the bathroom.  Did I mention that our master bath was being remodeled during this time?  Finally done.  Exhausted.  One Lunestia and I sleep good til 5 AM.   Had risks explained to me which I understood and signed off on without much thought since the first procedure went so well.

Well whatever the differences.  And there are many from procedure number one to this one (different hospital, different staff to assist, different  anesthesiologist, colder root, but more space).  Nothing really unexpected yet.  I wake up the doc has already talked to my wife and gone.  I’m a little groggy, little dizzy so I let them roll me out to the car in a wheel chair.  Somewhere along the way I’m told that two polyps were removed.  No indication of size or any other information.   I also am told I have a followup appointment for noon on a Wednesday in a couple of weeks.  My job is that 90 miles from home.  Bad day, bad time but we figure we can get it changed.and we were able to get it changed easily.  Oh, by the you can’t drive today, can’t eat today (broth and jello basically).  This was news to me.  I went in thinking it would be similar to the last time when I could have driven home..  Was told I was being given the same knock out drug as before.  Didn’t feel like before.  Read more and found the the effect probably wouldn’t wear off for 24 hours at least.  Not good but OK.  Still thinking I can drive by tonight.  All that day bathroom trips produce nasty black stool.  Called in sick for next work day.  Got to where I got so dizzy when I stood up I had to lay down very quickly to avoid falling down.  Would break out in a cold sweat.  Not much better next morning but started taking blood pressure.  BP was very low for me.Usually mine is just over the limt to start meds and I foolishly took them.  Figure that is part of the problem.  11 AM still weak and dizzy and still black stool.  Wife called the doc’s office and explained the situation and asked if this is normal and would the doc please call back.  Finally stable enough to drive the 90 miles that evening but still very weak.  Still no call from the doc.  Better today..  Stool almost back to brown and not was weak.  Better instead of worse as work day goes on. 

doc called back early this morning (now that I’m 90 miles away from him) talked to my wife.  From what I can gather at this point black stool equals blood / bleeding since two polyps were removed.  Somewhat normal I think but with all of  my Google searches I still can’t pin this down.  How long to tolerate it before seeking medical help.  Is this informed consent?  I should have done more research but now that I have I’m still not sure how much danger I was in when I could only make it from the bathroom to the bedroom by crawling at least once or twice.  I now believe that my low BP was from blood loss AND the BP meds – which I stopped taking until the reading are back to normal for me.  

I’m sure lab tests are being done on what was removed and the full results should be available at my next appointment.  Still some basic information could have been conveyed to my wife such as the size of the polyps.  I really can’t say I didn’t know the risks (in their most basic form) but I had no information what so ever as to what to expect after.  Furthermore I had no idea that I would no be able to drive by the end of the day (or even walk more than a few paces).   

As far as I can tell everything about the procedure itself was very professionally (of course I was out of it for 99.9 percent of it)..

Here’s hoping for good news when I go back.  I hope they were small, were removed without any major problems and are not cancerous or at worst pre-cancerous.  I’ve since learned that size and/or number determine those things.

This is my diary and I’ll probably write more in the next years than I have for several years.  I’ll try to sugar coat the worse but put in enough details to document how this goes.  

Even now I recognize myself bouncing around in the stages of grief.  I expect to have trouble sleeping at least until the next appointment and maybe worse or better after that depending on the results.

Next time more on my thoughts about life, love, children and colors that don’t fade.