My WHAT is sputtering?

 

Happy Friday all!

Today's blog deals with women's issues, especially menopause, iron and anemia, and doctor's appointments. I write blogs like this to comfort, educate, and amuse my fellow women.  If we talk about this stuff, it won't be as foreign.  If we laugh at it, it won't be as scary.

For those of you who are NOT adult women, be warned:  there is some icky female medical stuff ahead.  I don't want any of you stopping me at church or the library or someplace you might see me and say, "Well now I can't get that image out of my head!

This week has been all about the doctor's office.  Three trips to the same building in three days.  I definitely live a special kind of life.  #donthatemebecauseimawesome.

The first appointment was for my bi-annual "pop your feet in the stirrups and scooch" good time with my GYN.  Now that I'm done having babies and I'm past the half century mark in age, they really do not care about what's going on down there all that much. It's all about the upstairs girls now.  But, every so often they need to take a peak and make sure, especially now that I'm in that super fun perimenopause portion of my life, that nothing weird or alien is happening.  

As it turns out, I was well past the whole "bi-annual" peppy pap schedule.  Sure, they've been mining for all sorts of other nonsense in my womb without a view over the last five years, much of which was because my iron levels are so ridiculously low, they thought I might have a bloodsucking creature of some kind hiding in my baby space.  So my GYN, who is precisely half my age and one third my weight, sat down and, while conversing about other things as if my lady bits weren't hanging right there in front of her face, she poked and scraped and got her testing material. Then she said something that made me laugh too hard for a woman in that delicate position.

She said, "Now, when you see the test results before I do, and you will, if there's anything that seems abnormal, don't freak out."

Don't freak out.  She said that. To me. About medical test results.

Did I mention I'm currently rewatching "House?" 

Not my GYN. MY Gyn is scary by accident.

Well I mentioned it to her.  And she said, "Yeah, they see a lot of zebras on that show, don't they?"

Referring, of course, to the thing my husband says to me all the time, "When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras."

Except, we live in a very zebra filled world over here at the Bradley place. So...

Anyway apparently some new law has decided that we the people need to see our test results BEFORE the doctors who tested us.  Like seeing our grade on a math quiz before the math teacher gives us the grade. It  makes no sense. Why would anyone want that?  I want a nice, neat letter, like I used to get:  Dear Sarah...everything's normal.  Thanks. See you in two years."

But no, now I sit here and check my online health profile and wait. And wait.  I haven't seen those test results.  And since I now know I'm getting them first, I have to wonder what's going on.  So, guess what?  I'm FREAKING OUT!

The second appointment was no biggie. Labs over at the cancer center. And before my readers freak out, let me explain. My anemia/iron problems are a blood issue. Apparently ALL blood doctors are cancer doctors.  Hence and ergo, when I go get my blood drawn to check my iron, it's all at the cancer center side of the clinic.  (Which, BTW, is WAY better run than the normal people's clinic downstairs in the same building. That's the circus show there all they do all day is decorate for holidays and yell people's private medical info across the room.)  I don't mind going for blood draws at the cancer center. The folks are nice, efficient, I rarely have to wait and the needle stick doesn't hurt at all.

Finally, the third appointment.  Seeing my blood doctor to go over my test results of the blood draw.  

Not my blood doctor, but I wish he could be!

My blood doctor sort of seems like what would happen if Howard from "Big Bang Theory" and Skippy's BFF's brother melded DNA.  He's like this super chirpy nerdy guy with really, really thick hair. I adore him because he takes the time to talk to me like a person. I suppose cancer doctors have to do that.  Sure, his scales weigh me heavier than any other on the planet and his blood pressure machine measures mine roughly ten points higher than any other place, but other than that, I really don't mind going to his office. Dr. "Blood" and I have spent the last two years searching for the source of my low iron/ low energy issues.  Those discussions have led us down some serious rabbit holes, but none so fun as the one yesterday.

I told him I'd been to my GYN and we again discussed my monthly punctuation.  I was actually managing the iron I got from an infusion back in June pretty well, and Dr. Blood was confused because he expected that me being me, my iron levels would be in the basement.  Then we talked about my recent punctuations (and the previous lack thereof). We discussed flow and cramps and frequency and everything and we laughed because we both have a pretty irreverent sense of humor and my guess is he doesn't get a lot of laughs in his line of work.

We talked about my diet and how I'm trying to eat iron rich foods since we already know I don't absorb iron supplements at all.  As it turns out, I don't absorb iron from my food either.  So, hey, why am I even bothering with veggies?

Anyway, so Dr. Blood and I were chatting about my punctuation and then he says this:

"I think you're managing your iron better because your ovaries are sputtering."

Howard just told me my ovaries are sputtering.

 And, after three trips in three days to the same building and having my temperature taken 3 days in a row and being asked if I'd traveled out of the country 3x, this is my takeaway:

1)  Don't read my GYN test results no matter what because clearly they're trying to freak me out.

2) My iron levels aren't normal, but they're not on the floor either, which is remarkable for me.

3) I don't have to eat veggies because there's no point.

4)  I'm old enough to have sputtering ovaries.

So there you have it! Enjoy your weekend and try not to picture sputtering ovaries. Especially don't picture mine!  LOL

Five for Friday: How NOT to injure yourself and insult others while prepping for a colonoscopy.

Good afternoon all!

So my doctor decided recently that since I'm anemic, the issue of low blood iron clearly lies somewhere deep inside...either my colon or my small intestine.  

To that end, he scheduled a colonoscopy and an endoscopy for me.

I will be looking for a new doctor.  LOL

The blessed event happened yesterday, but as some of you may know, there is a prep period for both procedures.  The prep for an endoscopy:  Fast starting at midnight before your scope.  Show up on time. Bring ID.

The prep for a colonoscopy is a little more detailed, and thusly I bring you today's five for Friday!

5)  Fasting.

Okay, this is arguably the worst part of the prep.  It was for me.  Basically, you can't eat solid food, or anything that's not clear, for 36 hours before your test.  But it's worse than that.  You have to cut out nuts, popcorn, veggies, fruits, fiber, and pretty much anything with flavor 24 hours before T

HAT.  So you're on a tasteless, fiberless diet for 24 h ours, and then clear liquids after that.  (And that last 36 hours makes you dream of the previous 24.)

Now I'm a fluffy girl.  I don't fast.  I barely diet.  At first the clear liquid diet is funny:  You know, broth, jello that's not red, blue, or purple, tea, coffee (without any creamer) and...that's pretty much it.

When talking to the nurse about my prep. I suggested that vodka was a clear liquid. She agreed, but responded that I should be moderate in my vodka consumption. The packet I was given  (more on that later) suggested I NOT partake of any alcohol.  

Four hours before your procedure you're not supposed to take ANYTHING by mouth.  Now, most people aren't bothered by this because they are able to schedule their scope for early in the morning and they get a good night's sleep and are therefore blissfully unconscious for the worst of the hunger.  

Not me.  I did not sleep at all the night prior to my scope.  Around 1 AM my children made  a frozen pizza and I begged them if I could just lick it.  (The grease on the top of the pizza looked clear enough.)  They laughed at me.  I'm going to put ex-lax in their Easter baskets.

The thing is, I couldn't sleep because the prep med schedule is so...weird.  I was worried I'd forget a step and not get cleaned out enough to get the scope done and then I'd have to do it all over again.  (Which is also the argument hubby made with I asked if I could just eat a little of the pot roast I'd made for dinner.  It should be noted, he was eating a full bowl of pot roast and enjoying it.  I may put ground up ex lax in his coffee this weekend and call it a "mocha")

There are pills you have to take and then there's the liquid prep. They tell you to drink fluids all day long.  8 ounces of fluids every hour. And then...the prepping hour, the stuff I called "the goo."  It's not actually goo.  It's Gatorade mixed with Miralax.  A LOT OF Miralax.  I drank 14 daily servings of miralax in TWO SITTINGS.  

Here's how this works. Two days before your test you take a pill laxative. They don't tell you this will pretty much blow out any back up you have in your system or that an innocent sneeze might turn into a laundry nightmare.  They won't tell you that.  But I will.  The next day you take another pill. This time anything left in your body that hasn't turned to liquid fires out.  One hour after that you drink the first of the goo. 32 ounces downed in an hour.  (It tastes like someone added blades of grass to yellow Gatorade.)  45 seconds after that, your body begins producing what I consider to be the early stages of Soylent Green.  (It's PEOPLE!).  All this while only being able to eat chicken broth and green or yellow jello.  (I don't like either color.)

A couple years ago my friend Marie went through a colonoscopy and she said, "Now I know why those people on Survivor seem so stupid.  Going without food affects your ability to make decisions."

I could not agree with her more.  I mean, I was in a comfortable house, I had indoor plumbing and comforting bum wipes readily available.  And no one was asking me to drag a bag through a maze, swim 200 yards, and do a puzzle.  After going through all of this, I have a new appreciation for just how evil Mark Burnett and Jeff Probst are.

You spend hours thinking about what you're going to eat when you are finally done fasting.  My first meal with an Einstein Brothers toasted Asiago cheese bagel with Veggie shmear and a coffee followed up with two pieces of extra crispy KFC.  Best food ever.

4)  Post goo prep time is alone time.

Once you've started consuming the liquid death, plan to spend time alone.  If you have an en suite bathroom, that's the best.  I lit candles, loaded the bathroom with plenty of reading material, picked out movies I knew very well so that I didn't get too wrapped up in the plot to not go when I had to go.  (I also picked Civil War flicks...lots of noise. Drowned out the bathroom noises.)


Everything that comes out of you...and it's a lot...will be liquid.  Not loose stools.  Nope. Liquid.  And there's no warning fart or anything to let you know it's time to go. Now, some people just sit on the toilet for the duration, but that becomes uncomfortable and your feet go numb. So, if your bed is close to your commode, just be ready to unload at any slightest twinge of your lower body. 

Oh and fun fact...when you're prepping, really, no one wants to talk to you.  Not at all.  hubby celebrated that he got the TV with the cable all to himself and when I came out, he looked a little...insulted.  But at least he talked to me.  The kids spent some time avoiding me.  Granted, all I wanted to talk about was how hungry I was and how my bowels were now expelling something that looked a lot like Gatorade.  Still, they could have been more sympathetic.  Hubby suggested he sleep on the couch. I said, "I'm not sick...I'm prepping."  So he slept in the bed.  I spent the night dozing on the couch and wandering around in a haze of hunger and dehydration.

The packet  (more on that later) instructs you to drink half the goo at 5 Pm before your scope and the other half 6 hours before your scope. In my case, this was 4 AM.  So...I was so worried I'd miss this time (or I'd miss the tiny twinge while sleeping) that I didn't sleep at all the night before.  That's right...I was up from 6 AM Wednesday morning until 2 Pm after my scope.  I'm too old for that.

It's a long, lonely night when you're wandering around, drinking tea and eating green jello and looking at stuff in the fridge wondering if you could pulverize it into a clear liquid.


3) The Packet

Once you've scheduled your colonoscopy, you get a raft of emails and texts regarding the test.  I scheduled that thing two months ago.  The day after I scheduled it  I got an email telling me to purchase my prep packet.  


Purchase.

I'm an idiot, so rather than finding out what was in the packet and saving myself almost $20, I instead bought the packet which was sent to me with detailed instructions.

In the package were the following:  10 pages of directions.  5 laxative pills.  1 bottle of miralax.  2 packets of powdered Gatorade.  three packets of powered soup mix.  A box of lemon jello powder.  five little packets of wipes that look like, but are NOT, fruit snack strips.  (In the throes of my hunger I nearly tore one open and ate it.)

$31.

Yep.

$31.

I ignored the prep packet until it was almost too late.  I opened it on Monday and realized I was already not adhering to the tasteless diet.

I read and reread the instructions.  I cancelled a dentist appointment (the one to fix the tooth that fell out during my trip to Door County.) because after taking the first laxative I realized there was no way I was leaving the house.

I made the soup mix.  I didn't make the jello. I made my own green jello.  And now I'll never eat chicken broth or green jello ever again.  At least, not for the next ten years.

2) Blame it on the lack of food if you somehow imply the nurses are sexy.

I checked with Peaches on this one, and she says I'm okay, but I still feel like I had an uncomfortable moment with at least two of the dozen nurses I came in contact with the day of the procedure.  

First of all there's a team of nurses who all have one duty and they tell you their name, do the duty and you never see them again.  There was the nurse who weighed me and then told me to take all my clothes off except my socks and my bra.  Very sexy look.  Then there was the woman who was supposed to get my IV started.  She stuck me in at least three places  (And all of them hurt) before she settled on the vein on the top of my right hand. 

Then there was Karen, the nurse who fixed my IV because it was leaking all over my hand.  Again, that hurt...a lot.

After that, I think there was a Bonnie, maybe a Kathy, I'm not sure just how many other nurses got all in my face, (At this point I had no glasses, having signed the paper that swore I WAS NOT PREGNANT, I no longer hand any need to read.  So why did they bother wearing name tags?)  and chirped their name while performing one task.

I think it was Karen who rolled me down the hall in what I thought was the worst parade ever.  (This was before they gave me any kind of sedation.)  I felt I should wave, but I had way too many cords and tubes and whatnot attached to both my arms.  

I was parked in an operating room where two new nurses started pushing me into position and putting more stuff on me.  We chatted about children and jobs and plans for lunch and all of that.  Which is when I burst out with this:

"This has got to be the sexist branch of medicine ever."

Again this was BEFORE I got any sedation meds.

Nose Cannula nurse stared at me as if I'd suddenly grown two heads.  That's when I realized I'd probably just implied that I found the nurses sexy.  Now, they were very nice ladies, and they were tidy and clean and all that, but um....that wasn't my point.

I explained.  "I mean, you're sticking scopes down throats and up fannies all day."

Nose cannula nurse relaxed a little and laughed.  "I suppose."

Then I quoted my mother..."Mom always says, 'it's a good thing someone wants to do this.' "

That is literally the last thing I remember.  I'm pretty sure Nose Cannula nurse told the other nurse to plug me full of meds to shut me up.

1)  Some people are fun when they wake up. Apparently I'm annoying and not at all interesting.

Skippy had an endoscopy on Monday and when he came out of his anesthesia everyone loved him. He giggled, he offered discounted pizza to everyone, he was the life of the party.

Apparently, the only thing anyone can say about me is that I repeated myself several times and kept asking what time it was...to the point that Peaches, who I didn't even SEE until 12 hours after my procedure, scolded me for telling her something that Hubby said I'd talked about several times with him.  WELL!

Oh, and seriously, while everyone looked at Skippy's pictures of his clean esophagus and small intestine, no one wanted to look at my pictures.  And my colon is CLEAN!  (They found ulcers in my esophagus.  Nothing to worry about, they tell me.)

You know what, my next step in tracking down why I'm anemic is to go to a GYN specialist. Just for that, I'm not sharing anything with any of the people I live with. HA! That will teach them, because I

just BET that's going to be a SUPER interesting appointment.

Foodie rule: When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

Good afternoon!  

How can it be almost a month since I blogged last?  Oh yes, I've been SICK!  How sick?  Well, I managed to binge watch 6 seasons of "House MD" without once thinking I had any of the ailments on the show.  THAT'S plenty sick enough for me.  And this disease I did have, this massive cough, congestion, loss of appetite, loss of voice, loss of will to move...I'm still getting over it.  I went two weeks without putting on eyeliner or shoes.  (I'm actually amazed at how far I devolved during my time of illness!)

But I've recovered now, at least well enough to go on a little bit of a winter get away with Hubby.  (I realize it's April, but up here in Wisconsin, winter get aways can happen deep into May.)  We headed up to Door County, a touristy place north of Green Bay, for a couple days.

Door County is one of those places that has an off season. Like the Wisconsin Dells, or Paris. (At least I'm told Paris sort of shuts down in August.  And since someone who lives and works in Paris told me that, I guess I take it as truth.)  Typically this means that the things you're going up to see and do aren't going to be open.   But in the last few years, Door County, like many other places that rely on tourism, has figured out a way to draw people up there no matter what the weather.

One word:  alcohol.

It's become quite stylish to hit the wineries of Door County (and there are MANY) to taste and enjoy local wines, and distilled beverages while staying in a hotel room and watching lousy weather roll by.  This is exactly what Hubby and I planned.  Although, being foodies, we added that in as well.

We managed two wineries, Door 44 and Door Penninsula Winery.  We did a wine tasting at Door 44 (and subsequently spent way too much money on wine).  I enjoyed both, but I think the edge has to go to Door Penninsula Winery.  Why?  Well, bottle prices were lower, they offered distilled beverages in addition to wine, there was a larger selection and...most importantly...their strawberry zin took me back to my college days of drinking Boones Farm Tickle Pink.

Ahhhhh, the memories.

Hubby outdid himself with booking a room.  I mean, if I'm booking a room I start with the mantra "I'm not paying more than $50 a night." and work from there.  Hubby booked with an eye towards...romance...and comfort.  We stayed at the Edgewater Resort in Ephraim/Sister Bay.  This wasn't a hotel room...no, this was a place I wanted to move in and live for the rest of my life!  Full kitchen, double sided fireplace, TWO TVs!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh, and a giant whirlpool tub!  All of the rooms

face the water, but if you're going to book, ask for room 216.  Best of all, the ICE MAKER in the freezer worked so well I was never without ICE!  (Well done Hubby!)

The weather cooperated well enough. We had sunshine two of three days up there, so we were able to hike in the state park, which was lovely.  (And good for my fit bit).

Food is always a big part of our trips (Duh...look at us) and Door County did not disappoint.  Since we had a kitchen, we stopped at a local grocery store and got fixings for a rustic cheese and sausage dinner for both nights, which saved a ton of money.  Breakfast and lunch was out and about.  And boy, did we find some off season gems!

It started with soup.  I love soup.  Seriously...if there's such a thing as a soup addiction, I have it.  So when I checked out the lunch menu at Shipwrecked Brew Pub in Egg Harbor and I saw "seafood chowder" I was all about it!  And I WAS NOT disappointed!  ( I also recommend the cheese curds and the cherry/berry crumble. Portions are huge, service is fast, and the place is CUTE!  

Breakfast both mornings in Door County was at the one place open near our hotel:  Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant and Butik.  This place has it all!  Swedish pancakes to die for, Swedish meatballs FOR BREAKFAST, a super cute little gift shop, and, in the summer months, GOATS ON
THE ROOF!  You read that right.  Goats.  On the grassy roof of the restaurant.  While it's hard to miss in the summer, you have to keep a slightly sharper eye out in the winter months. Well, not really.  Just look for the cars.  I love Swedish pancakes, but I've never really had them until now, and I'll probably only ever eat them here from now on!  Al Johnson's is a place where the regulars gather, so you know the food is good, and eavesdropping on conversations is fun and informative. Probably better than a local newspaper.  

But the gold star place that took it all was Czarnuszka Soup Bar in Ephraim.  After a day of hiking, we were overjoyed to find this little place tucked just off the main road.  The menu is limited to, you guessed it, soup and maybe a sandwich, whatever Mr. Czarnuszka feels like making.  Personally, I recommend the kielbasa and cabbage. Sounds weird, I know, but it's quite possibly the best soup I've ever eaten!


( I should mention that the little shack next door to the soup bar is currently for sale. Someone needs to send me $75K so I can live the dream of living next door to never ending soup!)

We hit the Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame, because that's what you do when you're on your way home from Door County.  Exhausted and loaded down with possibly a couple too many bottles of wine, we made one more foodie stop.

Il Ritrovo is a personal favorite for Hubby and me.  Wood fired pizza, unbelievable appetizers, and a tiramisu that makes all other tiramisus want to run away and hide.  Seriously delicious, fresh, and not too pricey.  I'd been looking forward to biting

into a lovely piece of that pizza since the day Hubby told me he was planning this weekend.

So imagine my surprise, after everything we'd eaten, when, while taking one small bite of a not at all hard piece of pizza, I started choking on something very hard.

Yes, it was one of my teeth.

Well, actually it was a part of a tooth.  See, several years ago I had a crown put on my back upper molar on the right.  The crown slipped off a couple times, and my dentist (who did not make the original crown) sealed it back on. When it fell off a third time, my dentist told me that he couldn't make a proper seal and that I should either get a new crown ($700) or get the tooth pulled ($180)  or do nothing.  ($0)  We've been in a holding pattern for a number of years. Last time I was in, a year ago, I told him to pull it.  He said there was still quite a bit of tooth left and if it wasn't causing problems I still had plenty of time on it before we had to pull it.

NOT NO MORE I DON'T!

In a true, "It can only happen to Sarah" moment, the whole center of the tooth stub broke off and nearly killed me.

Okay, that might be a little dramatic.

Still.  That was my signal it was time to get home and stay home for a while.  And I think that's a good rule of thumb:  When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

The tooth isn't causing any pain.  But I figured I should call my dentist and get this looked at.  Funny thing is, he was at a conference all day Monday. So If I can't get in on Tuesday or Wednesday I'm stuck with a tooth rim in my face because on Thursday...wait for it...I go in for what I like to call the GUT AND BUTT SCOPE SPECIAL.

That's right. I'm getting an endoscopy AND a colonoscopy all in one day.  Watch for the blog on THAT!

#donthatemebecauseImawesome