Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

... what's up with Auntie lately, right?

Heh.

Weeeeellllll... see, remember this entry and this one?

Well, I went and saw a gastroenterologist back in November, and he said with my family history, and the pain I'd been having, it was probably a good idea if I had a couple of tests to figure out what was going on in there, so... I was scheduled for an endoscopy and colonoscopy at the same time. And... that was today.

And I've been nervous and cranky, and all of that, not just because I was going to be basically Roto-Rootered from both ends, but... because they were going to have to knock me out to do it and... I have issues with that.

I had arthroscopic surgery on my knee back in the late eighties, and they used general anesthesia to put me under. Didn't have a problem with that... until the second time I had to have work done on the knee, and... was still conscious when they paralyzed me before intubating me. I couldn't breathe, and I panicked. The anesthesiologist said, "What's wrong?" and I managed to squeak out, "I can't breathe," and he patted my cheek and said, "Don't worry, love, I'll be breathing for you."

o_O?!!!

No, that did not make me feel better, and I remember flailing about wildly with my hands, and a large, warm hand caught mine, and I saw my surgeon standing there, and he said, "You're going to be fine. I won't let go of your hand until you're asleep. I'm right here, and I promise you, you're okay." And he was still holding my hand when everything dissolved.

So, yeah, I get a little freaked when it comes to anesthesia, because no matter how much I will myself to forget it and get over it, it still sneaks up to me and sinks sharp little claws into me when I least expect it. So, after a horrible day of no eating and drinking my nutrition, followed by a horrible night of drinking one of the nastiest substances known to man in order to "clean my pipes out," I was a tottering paranoid mass of hypoglycemic sleep-deprived zombieness. And sitting in the waiting room was the hardest part, because part of me wanted to run, run, run for the hills! (except I couldn't because of the tottering paranoid mass of hypoglycemic zombieness) and part of me just wanted it to be over already. There was also a part of me that desperately needed to go to the bathroom, but we'll just skip over that part, 'kay?

I also really, really, really wanted to faint (that was the hypoglycemia) and I also knew that my intellectual capacity had just dropped from Intelligent Woman to Gibbering Moron, but, I kept looking at my son and thinking, "He did this, well... the endoscopy part, and he came through it fine..."

Then my mouth cut my brain off at the pass and made me quiver my lip at the Husbandly One and say tearfully, "I just don't think I can do this."

THO knows me very well, because he gave me this completely exasperated look and said in those I'm the Dom tones, "You will do this because I've already paid for it, dammit!!"

Which was apparently exactly what I needed to hear, because I did it. Went in when they called me, confessed my hypoglycemia, they fixed me up, I felt much better (and braver), then the anesthesiologist came to chat, and settled my mind about the anesthesia, which wasn't general, it was something completely different. Basically, I would be asleep, but able to breathe on my own and respond to commands. Which made me feel much better, if not a bit more zombie-ish. They took me into surgery, the doctor took my hand to pat it, and the anesthesiologist said, "Okay, I'm adding the anesthesia to the bag, your arm will feel a little warm, and theeeeennnnn yyyyyyooooouuuu'lllll feeeeeel sleeeeeeppppyyyyyyrrrrrrr....."

And then next thing I knew, someone said, "You can open your eyes now," and Holy Mackinoly, I was in another room!!! And I felt GREAT!!! I actually felt better than I had going in!!!

"Stunned" does not even come close to covering it. "Gobsmacked," maybe.

Within about ten minutes, I was up, getting dressed, drinking water, and ten minutes after that, I was heading home. It was awesome!

And the good news is... NO ULCER!! Some mild Inflammation, yes, but the medication they gave me is apparently working, so.... I'm good! And nothing bizarre or scary going on downstairs, either. YAY!! Which is a HUGE relief, because my grandfather died of colorectal cancer in his early to mid fifties, so... yeah, very concerned!

But everything looks good, so I am a very relieved Auntie, believe you me!

My last post yesterday was cryptic, I know, and I do apologize. It's just... I was rather thrown and, well, stumped.

I sort of needed a little time to ponder it and ... process it a bit, and I also needed a chance to talk with the Blonde Sister and sort of get her take on it.

Okay, so, y'all know I've been having health problems this summer. And I've been having tests up the wazoo, right? So, I had to have a CT run on Friday, which was why I was complaining about drinking barium (vile, nasty stuff, DO NOT WANT!!!).

Along with the persistent low grade fever I've been running all summer, and the fatigue, I've had this... discomfort... in my left side, right under my ribs. The doc thought it might be costochondritis, which is really just fancy talk for an inflammation of the cartilage in the ribs, usually from coughing (which I do because of my asthma). Thing is, I usually get costochondritis in my chest, or around my shoulder blades. A little Motrin and heat usually takes care of it pretty quick, and Auntie is comfortable again.

This is different. So, after some painful poking around on my left side (I swear, I thought she was shoving her hands up under my ribs, or a bayonet, perhaps), the doctor decided to send me for a CT scan. That was on Friday.

So, yesterday, after the doctor's office had closed, the nurse who usually has the job of calling everybody to let them know their test results called ME. Now, I always take her calls with a grain of salt, and I urge you guys to do the same. She says that all my tests came back normal, just fine, and the CT scan was normal and everything was peachy-keen and hunky-dory (my words, but it basically came out to the same) except... I have a nodule in the bottom of my left lung. Where I'm having the discomfort. But, it's not anything to worry about and the doctor will be sending me for another CT scan in six months to see if there are any changes. Nice talking to you, Auntie, bye now! Click.

Is it any wonder I was rather... well... gobsmacked yesterday?

I'm going to wait until 10 a.m., when the morning rush of calls has tapered off, and I'm going to call in and request that the doctor call me back to discuss my test results. In this case, I think I would rather get my news straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak, so I know which way to jump. You know, either sigh with relief and shake my head over the flaky nurse, or go ahead and get my panic attack over NOW so I can move on and get down to business.

I'm a little tired of being couch potato Auntie and would like to get back to being bouncy Auntie again, you know? This being sick thing sucks. Seriously.

Someone's apparently been whacking me in the chest and back with baseball bats while I wasn't looking. Breathing is still vastly over-rated. Itching sucks big dogs. And I can't find my left black flip-flop.

The GOOD news is... the Impossible Son got 100's on his last two math tests!!! WOOT!!

I have now used my my ten seconds of energy. Back to bed for Auntie. Yay whoopie yay.

Okay, so I went back to the doc today for my chest X-ray, which I will get the results of tomorrow. It was fun (not), because I had to hold still and not cough.

The interesting part, though, came when the nurse went over yesterday's bloodwork with me.

"Well, your white count is a little elevated, but considering that you have an infection, that's not so unusual. However, the interesting thing is, we tested your thyroid levels and... they're low."

O_o??

"Um... y'all increased my dosage," I began, and she nodded.

"It's been about a month, right?"

"Yes." Well, nearly two months, really, since I've had two refills.

She nodded. "Well, considering that your dosage was increased, this level is... too low, so what the doctor wants to do is wait another month, see if things level out." She pulled out paperwork which she started filling out briskly. "So, the week after Christmas, go to the lab and have this bloodwork done, and we'll see."

"And if it's still low?"

"We'll knock you up to 1.25."

o_O??

Okay, so... if I'm still incredibly low, they'll increase my dosage to the level I had wanted them to increase it to back when they dropped my dosage from 1.0 to .88??

*starts to twitch*

All I gotta say is... this is going to be one interesting month.