There is nothing worse (ok, there are) in the world than seeing blood coming out of your body where there shouldn't be. When this happened to me, I went right into the land of denial. Hmmm...that's weird....on with my day.
But when it happened four more times that morning, I realized that it was beyond "weird" and something needed to be done...and by someone who might know what to do (rather than me-- or say...google.) So, I boldly attempted to get an appointment with my Primary Care Physician (and yes, I can hear all of the scoffs and laughter from my fellow military wives) who apparently left the clinic some months ago. And no, they haven't found a replacement for her yet. So...no doctor. Really? None? Can't you find somebody that will look at me? I'll even take my narcoleptic doctor from the last Duty Station (unless they still haven't located him...in that case, let him rest.)
At any rate, no doc....so off to the ER I went. With my four year old in hand. Scared, in slight pain, but more feeling like, "what a pain in the arse this is!" How true these words will become in the next few hours.
I won't go into details. No one needs to hear about them...and I certainly don't want to relive them. Let's just say I was battered, bruised, poked, prodded and left out to dry. Literally. My forearms look like I am a heroin addict. I think I must have been the very first patient of the young nurse that tried to get blood from me. Seriously, bruises the size of index cards.
The good news: You're not pregnant!
The bad news: You're going to need a colonoscopy!
Wait...whuh? Where they stick a....and they put a ...and whuh?
I am completely stunned. My husband is about to leave for a year and you are telling me there is a mass in my ass? Seriously? If it weren't so true, I'd be laughing right now (ok, I did laugh..mass in my ass...I still giggle every time)
I know we all basically have the same body parts. We ALL will have to get colonoscopies one day (yes, you will too)...but I really didn't think it would be needed so soon. I'm still (somewhat) young. I haven't felt any differently in the last few days. (I'm still the same neurotic person I've always been) So what the heck is going on with my body?
The ER doc says not to worry too much. I say, "whatever doc" and let my imagination take me where it wants. Which is not Disneyland. It's Cancerland. And Cancerland before Deploymentland is not a good combination. Why does my body have to overreact to every deployment? It's like a two year old having a tantrum: "I don't want you to go to war, so I am going break down!" or "If you go, I am going to have Trigeminal Neuralgia or, or, or CANCER! So there!"
So, yes, I am heading in for the one thing that most people don't even like to think about, let alone read about (so apologies are in order if you haven't stopped reading by this point).
The saga continues...and this is what it is like getting sick, stressing out, and finding blood where there shouldn't be. Welcome to Gettingoldland.
1 comment:
When did we get so old? And why are our bodies retaliating like we're aging just to spite them? We've been together a long time, us and our bodies, we should be sticking together not battling one another. You go to be done day young, vibrant, still relatively attractive (at least that's what you tell yourself) and the next day you wake up, look in the mirror, and yell at the person looking back "who the hell are you, and what did you do with the young woman that was here yesterday?" Whoever said "embrace the pains and problems, they remind you you're still alive" obviously never got stuck in a bent over position after picking a weed out of the garden, never had a lump or bump in the wrong place, and clearly never had bodily fluids coming out of places they shouldn't normally come out of.
I am going to be an optimist and say everything will be fine and when you finally get your diagnosis you'll wonder why you ever worried in the first place. I'll be thinking of you, though I'll try not to think of the procedure you're about to endure.
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