...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...

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A Journal of Sorts
. o O ( of course I should be sleeping ) O o .



THE NEW MILLENIUM CHECK UP




. o O ( modern medicine is amazing ) O o .

. o O ( and that's not always a good thing ) O o .




DISCAIMER: if you have a queasy stomach you might not want to read this entry, even though I was quite conservative in my descriptions and expressions about the experience...







ok, the final test result is next week, but it is not as consequential for getting out on the road (running) as the next to last result that I was supposed to get today... you go to a cardiologist for a cardio-stress test and an echo cardiogram cuz it's a wise thing to do when you've vegetated for a few years and consumed a spicy high fat only semi-balanced diet while not exercising at all (and the last year and a half sitting at a desk and calling that work) and you want to get back out on the road and train for a marathon again... so you get your doctor to give you a cardiology consultation and you see the cargiologist and set up the stress test stuff and go do everything you are told to do and come the day the appointment to discuss the results come in, the doctor says he didn't get the results yet... so why did your receptionist call to confirm the appointment yesterday?...

so the cardioidiot says he didn't see anything wrong on the day of the stress test (he was in the room 3 minutes and gone before the results were printed and never came down during the echo cardiogram)... I have no confidence in him since he's given me about 5 minutes of his time in three visits, one of those visits being a full day stress test at the hospital.. so the reassurance I sought that all is working well in the heart and blood tubes did not come and so I waited these two months to start running for minimal input and so the stress of the thought that any extra step or pushing of my body might be my last breath is only slightly relieved and only because I've worked hospitals long enough to have some idea of how to read my own tests results...

another disheartening experience the day of the stress test was that they fed me... cheeseburger... American medicine... first cheeseburger I've had in years... no wonder this country, for all it's money and modern advances far beyond any other country, is not the healthiest country... it's a very deep sickness...

so I held out hope that it was going to at least be a meaningful visit for the final results and today, I am further disillusioned with American medicine... so I went out to run, finally, anyway...

meanwhile, yesterday was the colonoscopy and let me tell you, if you hadn't had that experience you have not lived... it's a three day event... two days before you've got to stop eating solids and the day before you drink this amazingly bad tasting stuff called Fleet Phospho-Soda and suddenly, everything you've ever eaten in your entire lifetime, and probably prior lifetimes as well, looks for an exit from your body so fast that the porcelean throne (toilet) becomes your best friend... actually, your only friend cuz nobody in their right mind would want to come near you except maybe to shout out from behind a few closed doors, "did something die in there?"...

and that's just part of the fun... then a few hours before going for the test you are supposed to wake up and repeat the procedure (and how much sleep do you think you got sitting in the bathroom all night?) and you become the human faucet all over again (and you wonder just how you will drive to the doctor for the actual test, especially since this particular drive is almost an hour)... luckily, I have amazing will power (and a fairly strong sphincter muscle... see, news like this you would never find in any of my other journals, which is what sets this journal apart from all my other ramblings and I am sure that is why you keep coming back... what little detail will you learn next, huh?)...

well, you get to the hospital (cuz this test is considered outpatient surgery) and they give you that open back gown and you skip over to your bed while everybody makes a concerted effort to appear as if they are not catching a glimpse of your behind and then you wait an hour and a half... the motherly nurse asks, "did you do the flush?" and you reply, "excuse me, where's the bathroom?" and you both chuckle a little... ok, so yours sounded more like a whine but we are trying to be brave and polite... and finally the doctor comes and they wheel you into the little room and the test actually begins...

it might be a good time to mention that the hospital policy states that anyone getting any form of anesthesia must have someone to drive them home and of course I didn't have anybody who could take off from work and drive an hour and wait for hours (nor would I have wanted to ask anybody) so the doctor said they'll try the procedure with minimal anesthetic... oh joy, we'll play it by ear and see just how much pain and discomfort you can tolerate... wait, here comes the test...

so they give me almost nothing... I forget what they said, but 2 mg of something that meant I could drive home an hour after the procedure... I started wondering if I might see the optomitrist and get a diagnosis for glaucoma, but it apparently was too late for that... you need to plan ahead for these things...

I said, "doc, you might want me to go to the bathroom one more time" and the doctor replied, "oh don't worry, the suction will clean everything out" and I wondered if I should feel reassured...

I will not give you the graphic play by play of the actual test, because you might be preparing dinner or have a weak stomach, but suffice to say it is was kind of like watching Fantastic Voyage (remember that one?) or in a cartoon version, Osmosis Jones except I don't remember good ol' Osmosis having to ride through this particular part of the body... it was kind of like a video of spelunking (how is that spelled?)... fascinating...

see, what they do is slide tubes into your colon, one for suction, one to push air in, and one a fiber optic camera... it's the one that pshes the air in that creates the need for the anesthesia for your normal patient... remember your worst ever gas pains?...

ok, that's enough... the good news is the doc said all is well in that tube of this body... one pollup removed, looked benign, biopsy results next week... and that will be the conclusion of this round of the check up of the new millenium (about time I named this experience, huh?)... now all I need to do is continue running and make an appointment with the dentist J



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