The Patient is Fine!

Update: I had my colonoscopy today and everything went according to plan. I had a fairly uneventful prep day, I was well prepared, able to relax, and get a little bit of sleep before I had to be at the hospital.

 

All done!

The nurses and doctors were fabulous! Could not have been a better experience! My doctor told me that although my colon is filled with scar tissue, there were no signs of inflammation, this is great news!

I was done by 10, just in time for breakfast. My husband took me to one of our favorite spots; I had lots of coffee and a super delish omelet!

"Feed the Navy" omelet

Now we wait for biopsy results and then we can discuss medication tapering and withdrawal.

As always, stay tuned!

Embracing Colonoscopy: More than Just a Pain in the Ass

Colon-oddities

In the summer of 2002, a few months before I would be diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, I found myself in the bathroom, a lot. The ripping lower abdominal pain and indescribable fatigue I was experiencing only got worse. My mouth filled with ulcers making it painful to eat or talk. When I was finally referred to a GI specialist, he suggested a colonoscopy. Hell, he could have suggested a lobotomy and I probably would have agreed!

Almost everything about my first scope was awful. I wasn’t ready for how yucky the prep solution would taste or how fast it would hit (there were some close calls whilst running to the bathroom!) Being cleaned out left me cold, dizzy, and dehydrated. And let’s not forget my sore bum!

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life –Monty Python

Next week, I am scheduled to have my 11^th colonoscopy! Why so many? Well, because of where the disease has decided to take up residency in my body (large intestine), I’m at a higher risk for colon cancer. To stay on top of things, my gastroenterologist recommends I get a surveillance colonoscopy every two to three years. I usually dread the procedure but this time around I have decided to embrace the process.

OLD THINKING: “I’m a prisoner in my own home.”

NEW THINKING: This is the perfect time for some much deserved self-care. I will put on my favorite sweats, read, write, and nap (until “go time!”)

OLD: “Clear liquids, ugh!”

NEW: I can sip my favorite tea, eat lemon Italian ice, and all the lime Jell-O in the world is mine!

OLD: “The prep tastes horrid!”

NEW: True, the prep is not the best tasting stuff but back in the day I used to drink Coors Light. GoLyte is a step up.

Prep Day Provisions

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

Anesthesia is awesome! I always try to fight it like Schwarzenegger in True Lies, but I never win. I wake up wondering when they will get started only to find 40 minutes have passed, the test is over, and I feel surprisingly refreshed.

Sleep, poppies will make them sleep

During the procedure, the doctor will fill your intestines with air. While in recovery you WILL be encouraged to let out all that air. Yes my friends, this is a safe zone for letting farts fly!

While you and your new colonoscopy buds are recreating the campfire scene from Blazing Saddles, the compassionate nurse monitoring you will offer some of the best medicine: a warm blanket, ginger ale, and Lorna Doone cookies.

As a parting gift, you are given colored photos of your innards. Maybe I’ll use mine for a Christmas card: Deck the Halls with Bowels of Kelly, Fa La La La La… Well, maybe not.

The Day of Kelly

Because of the anesthesia’s lingering effects, driving yourself home is forbidden. My husband will take the day off work to be my personal escort, valet, and advocate. He’ll also take me out for a nice lunch. He’s a great guy!

Once home, I get to enjoy more “me time.” My discharge papers will instruct me to avoid operating heavy machinery (I consider the stove, washer, and dryer to fit into that category) so I will have no choice but to lounge around, drink tea, and nap some more. It really is an “all about me” kind of day. And this time, I am looking forward to it 😀😀😀

Being my own angel

I originally wrote this for The Mighty in July 2016. I like to re-read it from time to time (especially when I am feeling overwhelmed by a new kink in my health) as a reminder that I am in the drivers seat; I am the one that gets to make the final call when it comes to my care.

Image by Tumisu on Pixabay

As a person living with chronic illness, I’ve had my share of good and ‘not-so-good’ experiences with healthcare providers. While I am ever so thankful for the good, I’ve come to appreciate the ‘not-so-good’ as they remind me that doctors and nurses are not always the gods and angels we want them to be. Just like you and me; they have good days and bad days. They are human. Yet, we hold them to a higher standard; we want their best, 24/7 without exception. We want every touch to be reassuring, every word to be gospel. And we are crushed when our expectations are not met.

The following describes one of my ‘not-so-good’ experiences and the twist I gave it:

It was my eighth colonoscopy, third at this particular hospital. There were so many patients that day! At any given time, a dozen of us laid there in various stages of consciousness, all dehydrated, and barely dressed; as one was rolled out, another came in to take their place.

Though I had come prepared with a typed list of my medications, the nurse thought I was on Remicade (the man in the bed next to me was on Remicade.) When I corrected her, she gave me a ‘what’s the big deal’ eye roll. Another asked me questions from behind a computer screen, I had trouble hearing her and I could not see her face; I had to repeat myself many times. Too many people were asking me too many questions, I felt rushed and nervous.

In the procedure room, two nurses passed items back and forth over me and engaged in a conversation about which exercise was better for weight loss, hot yoga or P90X. Never once looking down at me (or even asking my opinion on the topic.) It was as if I wasn’t there; hell, it was as if they weren’t there! The fact that they literally had my life in their hands seemed lost.

When I was deemed stable enough to be discharged, my husband was sent to get the car. One employee was charged with the task of escorting me and another patient down the hall, onto the elevator, and to the entrance of the hospital to meet our rides. Neither of us was in wheelchairs; we carried our belongings. What if one of us felt ill, passed out, and fell?

The next day I received a follow up call; I told my story. The caller was apologetic and said he would certainly pass on the information. I do not doubt that he did yet I never heard back. Even though I suffered no physical harm or injury during my medical procedure, the course of events that day weighed on me. So I wrote a letter because I needed to let the hospital know that “I did not feel cared for, I did not feel safe”; that there were no gods or angels working that day.

My letter prompted a phone call from the unit manager but not the response I had hoped for, like maybe an expression of shock, an apology, or a promise to do better next time. Nope. All he deduced from my letter was that I was offended by the conversation the nurses were having. Really?! What part of: “I did not feel cared for, I did not feel safe”, did he not get? I hung up the phone totally bewildered, wondering why he wouldn’t admit that I was right and his staff was wrong. The nerve!

The aforementioned events happened several years ago and as I reflect on them, my thinking has changed; if I did not feel safe, wasn’t it on me just as much as it was on them? Sure, they could have done better but so could have I.

Stay with me; I am not giving a pass, I’m reminding myself that I can be empowered, and that I am in charge of my body, my life. I can be my own angel.

I’ve come to realize that yes, while I have a right to expect quality healthcare, I also have the responsibility to define what that means for me. I want to feel free to ask questions, say I am afraid, call the patient escort unacceptable and ask for something different. I now know that at any time, right up until the very last moment before they sedated me, I could have bailed, called the whole thing off. Though such an action would’ve been frowned upon and the fall-out would have been beyond epic, it would not have been the end of the world. I now take comfort in that knowledge.