322.5 . . . Woo Hoo!

OK, yes, I'm still sick . . . but seeing 322.5 on the scale this morning was AWESOME! The lowest I've been in I don't know how long.

Doctor Update
I went to the doctor yesterday for my abdominal pains . . . after poking around for awhile he looks at me and says "I'm going to order a CT scan for you as soon as possible." WHAT? CT Scan, that sounds serious! I thought I had the flu! Apparently he thought it may be appendicitis (sp?). I mention to him . . . you know, I'm getting married in 13 days . . . he replies with "Not if your appendix bursts your not." . . . Oh great . . . Teri is going to love this. I say "well if the CT scan revelas that it IS appendicitis and we decide to have it yanked out, how long is the recovery" he mentions that if they get to it before it explodes in your abdomen, the recovery is only 24 - 48 hours. WHEW! OK, lets go for the CT scan. So they set the CT scan up for 2:30 that afternoon. I'm not to eat or drink anything 4 hours prior. Since it was already after 11, no eating or drinking. I hadn't eaten since 7:30 the prior evening and was starving. The sit me down with the phlebotemist (vampire) and do some blood work. She and I are on a first name basis and I have absolutely no problem with needles and it's always very pleasant. She's a good vampire and never bruises my arm and hits the vein on the first shot. After that I head out.

So I call Teri and give her best case (some bug) and worst case (exploded appendix, lights and siren to the hospital, hope I don't die and we postpone marriage for a couple weeks). She's uber thrilled. She calls back a little while later to say she's taking the rest of the day off to take me to the CT scan. I go to the pharmacy and fill my prescriptions (in case of bug) and wait for her at home. After she arrives, we head over to Tacoma for the CT scan. On the way there Teri asks "Did they have you drink any contrast?" . . . "No" I reply . . . great . . . medicinal drink. Pills, needles, bring em' on. No issue what so ever. If I have to swallow any liquid that even has a hint of medicine in it, I start looking like a cat with a 20 year old hairball. Gagging, choking, etc.

We arrive at the CT scan place 30 minutes early and the receptionist asks "Did your doctor give you any contrast to drink?" "No" I reply. "OK, we'll get you some, is vanilla ok?" . . . "Fine". After I sit down, she brings out my "smoothie" and so commences the kitty hairball incident . . . in a lobby full of people no less. It actually didn't taste that bad, but I think it's psycho sematic. My mind knows there is medicine (Barium Sulfide in this case) in the drink and rails against it. I managed to get it down and inform the receptionist. It has to be in your system for an hour before they can take the scan. The whole time I was sitting there, I wanted to puke. But didn't want to drink another one more . . . so I kept it down.

Going into the CT scan, I was informed that I had to drink more contrast. The first one was for my bowels, this one is for my stomach. So I choke down another couple of swallows of it. He brings me over to the "bed" and I lie down. He inserts an IV (great now I have holes in both arms today) and starts a saline flush. I immediately smell and taste rubbing alcohol. Weird. We chat about the effects and he mentions, "just wait until I start the contrast, then the fun really begins". So the oral contrast is for your stomach and bowels, the IV contrast is for everything else. He proceeds to tell me that when he pushes the IV contrast, I may experience one or more of the following: Hot flushed feeling, metallic taste in my mouth, or the sensation that I'm peeing my pants. He further goes on to say "Don't worry, you're not peeing your pants, it'll just FEEL that way, so don't jump up and say I'm Peeing!" I thought that was kind of funny. So the scan begins and they start the machine and you slide into a donut. Once in the donut a voice (God?) says "Inhale deeply" then "Hold your breath" and the donut starts spinning and you start sliding out. On the way out you see a countdown timer and when it hits zero, God comes on again and says "Breathe". After a couple of those, God informs you that they'll be pushing the IV contrast now. When they did, I felt hot and flushed, but none of the other sensations. After a few insertions and extractions from the donut and appropriate instructions from God, you're all done.

Based on the MRI's I've had done recently, I'd bet the total bills for yesterday will be in the neighborhood of $1,200. Thank God (CT Technician?) for health insurance! After the scan Teri and I went to Quiznos where I had a sandwich and some soup. First meal in 20 hours and it was . . . OK. Got a call from the doctor late yesterday saying that the preliminary results of the CT scan don't show appendicitis, but if I feel worse at all to head to the nearest emergency room. Should have the full and final results back today. Still feel like crap, but I've got some work to do, so I'm at the office.

Oh yeah, and did I mention the scale said 322.5 today? :-)

 

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