Well, it is Rather Humorous

After enduring nearly a week of painful leg swelling, I went to the doctor yesterday. I also had to go to the hospital for blood tests, chest X-rays and to pick up the doses of contrast solution for this afternoon’s CAT scan. A full day of medical bead-rattling to continue clarifying my health concerns. Of course, things went fine, but…

First off, it was a miserable day. Warm and I had over-dressed. Moved through the day feeling like a chicken in the oven. Rainy. Low pressures make me blue and bloated. I could barely button my jeans and finally discarded the jeans in favor of sweatpants. So, I was fat and hot. There was no joy in Mudville…

Next, I arrive at the hospital to undergo my laboratory tests. Normally, you grab a number from a box and wait. This time, however, they had made the process more “efficient.” They had erected 4 registration booths, at which only 2 people were working. The line resembled the bread queue during the Depression. And, not to disparage the elderly (ok, yes to disparage the elderly), they are starved for social interaction and gab with whomever they contact. Forgetting that everyone else DOES have a life, they monopolize the time of shopkeepers, bank tellers, civil servants and, of course, hospital registration officials. Each of the two hospital personnel was servicing elderly patients who droned on and on about various events of their lives impacted by the Civil War and why Mr. Roosevelt should have kicked Stalin in the testicles. It was an eternity before I was actually allowed the privilege of moving to the waiting area for my tests.

I was quite fortunate in that the woman drawing my blood was good. Some are not. You have to be exquisitely incompetent to botch drawing my blood. My veins stand out like those on a body builder. You can trace my circulatory system down to the level of the venule and some individuals are still unable to draw blood without multiple sticks or, my favorite, wiggling the needle around once inserted subdermally. This woman was very good at her job and personable to boot. A nice bright spot to the day.

Then onto radiology. The obligatory hospital robe leaving my bony back exposed to the elements. They said I could keep on my pants, at least. The X-rays went well except that I had to keep my moon medallion clenched between my teeth during the scans. I could have removed it, but in the interests of time and laziness, I chose to clamp down on it. With its short chain, this caused somewhat of a strangling effect. But, like an obsessive, I continued with this action despite its discomfort through the initial series and the retakes when the first set came out poorly.

I arrived home sweating, tired, poked, prodded, irradiated and irritated. I threw off my garments and lay bloated and naked in my dark cool room for a few minutes, before donning loose shorts and a t-shirt. I puttered about the house until it was time for my doctor’s appointment, accomplishing little but quaffing copious quantities of dilute apple cider vinegar and sweetened celery-dandelion root smoothies. All designed for diuresis. Prep to Pee…

Arrived at the doctor’s office and was, surprisingly, taken on time. I burst out laughing when the assistant put me on the scale. 128 pounds. Admittedly, this was with clothes, but it pointed out with an exclamation point the amount of fluid I was carrying. Removing my shoes in the examining room caused the assistant to draw breath at the sight of my pitiful feet and ankles. Swollen beyond belief and disgustingly discolored. She hustled out to get the doctor and I sat in the chair with my head resting on the wall behind me. Shutting my eyes, I relaxed for the first time that day. The doctor came in, I opened one eye and simply said “I want Lasix.” Her reply? “You got it.” She proceeded to check out the extent of the swelling to determine my dosage, but never questioned the need for a race-horse strength diuretic. She also ordered more blood tests, but, when I told her I had just had a round at the hospital, ran out of the room and called the hospital lab to add on her requests to the already-drawn samples. Saved me an additional sticking. But, I couldn’t leave without doing something. That left urine. Well, at least that was a painless lab test…

Took my prescription and hobbled down to the pharmacy. Received my prized pee pills and marveled at their tiny size. Such an effect for a miniscule medicinal. Returned home and popped one immediately. It was also time to take my first dose of contrast fluid for the CAT scan. Now, one of the side effects of the contrast solution is diarrhea. And, since I live under the guidelines of Murphy’s Law, I manifested that effect. So, the Lasix was making me pee with frightening frequency and the contrast dye was giving me the scoots. My only restroom is on the 2nd floor. The urge hits with frightening force. I begin to race upstairs. AAAAHHHHH! Bad ankles/feet/legs. Pain, pain, pain…can’t slow down…make it to toilet without a second to spare. Back downstairs. Uh oh….

Today, things are more relaxed. I take the Lasix once a day and I’ll take it later after work. My next dose of contrast solution is due at 1:30 pm, and that is at the end of my last teaching block for the day. So, work won’t be impacted by my situation.

I am hopeful that this round of tests produces some results with real information. So far, each test has produced only the order for another test. My fingers are crossed, tough, that things will be coming to a conclusion soon. Till then, its detoxify, keep life simple and quiet. Accept each day’s challenges with a smile and a song in my heart. Unfortunately, that song might be “Crazy Train”…..