The medical problem I've had for the last 3-4 weeks that has prompted one trip to an immediate care center and a second trip to the ER has centered around something that's gone wrong with my stomach.
My stomach seems to be rejecting the rest of my body, and food, so I've managed to lost 17 pounds during this time, just because I can't eat. My diet lately consists of crackers, chicken broth, and Gatorade. Any time I try to add anything else to the mix, I end up with more stomach pain.
There isn't much else to report at this time, other than I'm waiting for a doctor's office to schedule a colonoscopy (woo-hoo, sounds like fun). I wasn't going to write this here, but I'm just trying to keep things honest, and maybe this has something to do with all the serial killer dreams. (Though yesterday my dreams were of the Mary Tyler Moore show, and another one with the brothers from Everyone Loves Raymond dealing with some car thieves, which has been a recurring dream over the years.)
Mental states when learning of a new ailment
There are interesting mental states I went through during this time, something like this:
- I'm sick.
- I'm not sick.
- Sigh, I'm really sick.
- It will pass if I quit eating.
- No, it's not going to pass. Damn.
- (Anger, and a little more denial.)
- Okay, I'm prepared to drop my drawers in front of anyone that can help.
That may not be the exact progression, but it's pretty close.
Mis-quoted in the ER
Another interesting thing came about when I picked up my paperwork from the hospital where I went to the ER. I picked up a copy of the papers so I could take them to my new doctor, and I read them myself and also made a copy of them. The interesting thing is (a) what the ER doctor heard versus (b) what I said. Reading her notes, I often felt like a celebrity saying they have been misquoted. Really, I'm stunned that an ER doctor wouldn't listen well.