Colonoscopy

I want to blog this because in 5 or 10 years when the doctor asks me to do this again, I don't want to forget.

Dr. Hajcsar said I sould have a colonoscopy. It's the 3rd largest death by cancer. You should have the first one at age 50 and one every 10 thereafter. I figured, every 10 years is okay for something so important so I agreed.

I had diarrhea for 5 days before supposed to take Dulcolax. The surgeon's office said I can skip the Dulcolax OK

Took Pico-Salax 2:30 Tuesday and within ½ an hour, it started to work. I drank the 8 glasses of water I was supposed to. I usually drink a lot anyway.

I started to have a headache. Then along came a series panic attacks just rolling over me. I got control of that by playing games on the computer. I felt tired and a little weak so I took a nap. When I woke up, my lips were numb. (I do have sleep apnea and was wearing the mask over my face.) The info sheet that came with the Pico-Salax said to call the doctor or pharmacist so I called Telehealth. I thought that my electrolytes might be out of balance. (I also have a problem with low potassium so I take a 50mg supplement. I was wishing that I had some Gatorade in the house.) They were very busy and the end result after an hour on the phone was that I should drink the 2nd batch of Pico-Salax I drank it at 8 instead of 6:30. The diarrhea became even more severe of course, I still had a headache and I felt shaky and dizzy.

I forced myself to drink the next 8 glasses of water although I felt 7 was my limit. The instructions said it was very important to drink 8 glasses. I started to feel sick and then I had a bout of severe vomiting and diarrhea all at the same time. Now I was really weak and shaky. I was so sick and I couldn’t rest.

On Wednesday morning Margus picked me up to drive me to the hospital. He’s so busy helping so many people that I felt I was imposing on him. As it turned out, I couldn’t have taken Burlington Transit to the hospital, I was not feeling well at all.

The hospital does 35 colonoscopies a day so it’s routine for them but scary for me being all alone. A certain Nurse asked me to sign and date a form and I wanted to read it first. As I was signing it, she walked off without saying a word and I was sitting there on the stretcher wondering what happened. I had the sense that the Nurse was angry at me for wanting to read the form before I signed it. After about 5 minutes another nurse came by to finish the paperwork. I asked about that certain Nurse and she said that since I was reading, the other Nurse decided to go on her break. I wanted to go home. I really wanted to go home, but since I had been through so much thus far, I decided to stay.

The anesthesiologist, Dr. Kern came by to ask me some routine questions. He picked up my spirits a bit because he seemed to actually care about his patients.

They took me into the operating room and I was surprised it was an operating room. It seemed dark, dirty and cluttered to me. Stuff was sitting out and there were very few cabinets in sight.

The Surgeon came in and stood by me without a word. I felt she was waiting for me to recognize her so I said “good morning Doctor”. She smiled and got busy. There was a heavyset blonde nurse in there and she looked kindly at me so I told her I was frightened. She said that’s okay, everyone was nervous at this point. Before they put me under, I heard the Surgeon say, “Why doesn’t anybody ever tell me anything! …” Before I could tell anyone it made me nervous to have an angry surgeon operate on me, I was out.

When I came to, I called to that certain Nurse but she ignored me. The next nurse came to me and I asked her to turn off the IV bag or whatever it was because I had to pee and that was making it worse. I got up as soon as I could and went to the bathroom before getting my clothes back on. (There were men and women there.)

I was feeling great and everything was fine. I was joking around and that certain Nurse really liked my sense of humour. When the wheelchair came up to get me, everyone was smiling and saying goodbye to me. (They didn’t do that with any of the other patients before me so I felt good.)

Margus picked me up from the hospital and drove me home. He couldn’t stay more then 5 minutes because he had to go and pick up someone from the dentist. I so appreciate having Margus to turn to when I’m in trouble.

I was feeling great and ate normally. Normally for me.

I went to bed late and about 7 a.m. the pain woke me up. I had severe stomach pain, I was in a cold sweat, I was bloated and I felt nauseas. I drank a glass of milk and that didn’t help at all. I started chewing on a Tums and spit it out. I tried to be sick to let the pressure off my stomach but I couldn’t. I tried to go to the bathroom without much result. I tried walking around to maybe bring up some gas with little result. I was up and down every 15 minutes until about 10:30 a.m.

I slept until 1:30. Now I’m afraid to eat. (Hey, maybe that's a good thing)