The Day I Finally Grew A Pair Of Cojones...

So after the eventful Valentine's Day that consisted of a three hour blow job - I completed the 10 day prescription of antibiotics to treat the bacterial overgrowth in my Duodenum.  As you can probably guess, there were no changes in any of my symptoms: severe stomach pain; bloating; harden abdomen; extreme exhaustion.  I called my Gastroenterologist and informed him that I had not felt any change since completing the medication.  He suggested I come in and see him for a follow up office visit. 

The following week I am meet with my Gastroenterologist.  I explain all of my symptoms again, emphasizing how even eating half of a sandwich results in looking as though I am 9 months pregnant.  Instantly, I could tell by the look on his face that he thought I was being dramatic and exaggerating.  He then looked at me and asked if I had ever had a colonoscopy.  My jaw dropped.  I looked at him and replied, "Yes, about three months ago."  He then asked, "Who did your colonoscopy?"  I looked at him in disbelief and replied, "You, did!"  Now, I have chosen to believe that he knew damn well he had already performed a colonoscopy on me, however, enjoyed my young firm ace so much he wanted a second chance at it.

After we both realized I had just been another patient being herd through like cattle for the last 6 months, and he had no idea what was causing these health issues, he went with his last resort to avoid saying he did not know what was going on.  Guess what his final response at that appointment was..."Well, I think this is all being caused by depression.  I think it is best if you return to your primary doctor and have him provide you with a prescription for anti depressants."

It was right then that I came to believe that just because I have a vagina and men have balls, DID NOT mean that I do not have bigger balls than they do!  I looked at him and responded, "So, basically, because I have spent the last 6 months having procedures performed, blood work done, waiting biopsy results, almost weekly, and you cannot figure out the problem, but unable to say that, so I am just depressed?"

 And that would be the last time that I would visit that Gastroenterologist.  

I returned to my Internal Medicine doctor and informed him of the ongoing problems I had been having, and lack of help the Gastroenterologist had been.  My internal medicine doctor (who was a blessing at the time), had me tested for Celiac Disease and Addison's Disease, both of which resulted in negative.  He was becoming baffled himself.  Only, he was definitely not afraid to say so, especially after seeing me gain 10 pounds in less than a week and the severe bloating.  

Now, naturally, I would never ever post a picture of myself that is actually fair game for a male to ask when my due date is.  However, in an effort to show how much I am not exaggerating, I decided to take one for the team and post a picture that shows just how distended my stomach becomes when I eat a "normal" meal.  And by normal, I mean a cheese enchilada or grilled cheese, something without all of the extra sides.  And as much as I want to Instagram the shit out of these photos, that would obviously defeat the purpose.  But do not let these pictures be a turnoff boys...I am completely content living off of liquids the rest of my life to keep a natural non baby making hot bod if need be.  At this point, food is no longer appealing to me anyway. 

It is easier to list the foods that I am UNABLE to eat and let you figure out what is left:

• Oats
• Wheat
• Seeds of any kind.
• Nuts
• Red Meat
• Processed food, obviously
• Fruits or vegetables with seeds
• Any seedless fruits or vegetables have to have the skin peeled off and be fully cooked prior to eating.

BEFORE EATING          AFTER EATING

It was after this my doctor decided that it was time to go to the Mayo Clinic where more testing was available.  And let me tell you...if you thought my previous procedures were interesting and intrusive, they do not even to begin to describe the two weeks of action I would receive!  But hey, my birthday was during those two weeks, so it was only fair to get some sort of action...

The Most Eventful Valentine’s Day of My Life…

 
After the Upper Endoscopy, I was just kind of left hanging like an 80 year old with out his Viagra.  I continued to change my eating habits even more; drinking Ensure and other meal supplements, complete gluten free diet, etc.  Nothing really seemed to be making a difference.

A few weeks later, my mother called me to tell me about an article she had seen in a health magazine while she was checking out at the grocery store.  She explained that on the cover of the magazine it read, “SIBO,” and highlighted several gastrointestinal symptoms (abdominal bloating, distension, abdominal pain, body aches, and chronic fatigue) that were congruent with what I had been experiencing.  So she bought the magazine, read the article, and called me to suggest I read about it and ask my gastroenterologist to be tested for this.  After reading more about SIBO, I agreed that the symptoms appeared to be congruent with what I was experiencing.

Before I go any further, though, I will explain what SIBO is; yet another uncommon syndrome.  SIBO is the acronym for Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth Syndrome; a chronic bacterial infection of the small intestine, which connects the stomach and the colon.  However, the small intestine is difficult to test for problems because a colonoscopy only reaches the end of the small intestine and the endoscopy only reaches the beginning of the small intestine.  Luckily, there is a non invasive test for SIBO called, Lacunose Breath Test.  The Lacunose Breath Test measures the level of bacteria growing in the area of the small intestine unable to be reached by the scopes.  You are required to fast the day before, like, not even allowed to chew gum.  And then the day of the test, you blow in a tube every 10 minutes while a machine records your methane and other chemical levels.

 

That week, I called my gastroenterologists office and left a message asking if I could be tested for SIBO.  The nurse later called me back and the doctor approved and scheduled this test.  However, they only do this testing one time per week, on Tuesdays, and do this in groups of three patients. The scheduling conversation with the nurse went something like this…

 

Me:  “Sign me up for the next available appointment, please?!”

Nurse:  “Well, we just happen to have one opening left for this next Tuesday.”
Me:  “Perfect!  Sign me up!”
Nurse:  “Oh, wait!  That’s Valentine’s Day.  You probably don’t want to spend your Valentine’s Day in here completing another test/procedure, do you?”
Me:  “Oh, honey!  You are telling that to the one chick that does not care.  I consider “blowing” on Valentine’s Day, just another train wreck day in the 365 I have a year.  I prefer to really focus on Black History Month on February 14^th, myself.  That way I know it gets the attention it deserves.”
Nurse: …..
Me:  “So am I set for February 14^th, 10:00AM, ménage a troi of blowing?”
Nurse:    ……  “Yep, we have you down.”
Me:  “See you then.”

Now, I am guessing for the average chick, they would be planning their Valentine’s Day festivities and would have had to postpone the Lactulose breath test until the following week.  Not this chick!  I personally believe that Valentine’s Day is a scam perpetrated by the candy and floral industrial complex.  It is nothing more than complete awkwardness.  People are forced to spend the day and/or evening attempting to prove how much they love and care about the other person.  Meanwhile, the whole next day is being spent discussing how everyone’s Valentine’s Day was, and who is “loved” the most.  It usually takes every fiber of my being to not just say, “Really?  Tell me how much of an extra you are in that person’s life the other 364 days of the year.”  But, I obviously refrain from being my bitchy self and instead of saying my first thought; I say my third, “Cool.”  I have never actually celebrated this holiday (by choice), I guess maybe I am just not the mushy type.  For example, I was dating a guy once...he showed up with a stuffed animal…and gave it to me.  Needless to say, that was the last time I saw him.  I broke up with him then and there.  Turned out, though, my dog was pretty fond of this little stuffed animal.  She now uses it as her hump toy.  I will say, those Build A’ Bears are quite durable.

 

Anyway, I showed up at the gastroenterologists ready to blow for the next 3 hours of my Valentine’s Day.  Because I am always running late, I was the third person to show up.  You guys know what that means!  Yep!  I got to sit bitch…which means, I was blessed to sit in the middle recliner with an 85 year old male on one side and about an 85 year old female on the other side.  It was just the three of us in for a long haul of three hours of blowing.  However, I did notice that neither of them had on wedding rings; I kind of felt like I was raining on Cupid’s parade.  I mean, I am definitely not the Valentine type, but hey, that doesn’t mean that it can’t be “magical” for others wanting to bump old uglies.  And, no offense, but at that age, they are ugly.  Hell, penises and vaginas are ugly no matter what age a person is – It is just the nature of the beasts.

 

So as we all blow, every 10 minutes, for 3 hours, I notice that my numbers are much different than theirs.  I figured it probably wasn’t a bad thing, being that I was 27 and they were both 80 plus years old.  There is no way I couldn’t have a healthier colon than both of them. 

After the test was completed, the nurse told me she would be calling me after the doctor calculated all of the numbers and would let me know the final results.  A few days later, the nurse did call to inform me that my test results came back positive for SIBO.  She let me know that they would call in a couple of prescriptions for the antibiotics, Neomycin and Xifaxan, that I was to take for 10 days and then return to see the gastroenterologist for a follow-up visit.

As you can imagine, these medications didn’t make a bit of difference.  So I basically spent my Valentines Day blowing a piece of plastic for 3 hours instead of a swollen sausage for no reason.

I Hope My Face Is As Pleasing As My Ace Was…

The next procedure I was scheduled for was an upper endoscopy, the first week in January (2012).  Since the beginning, I had been persistent that it was my stomach that was in pain, not my ace.  I was finally going to have the endoscopy to check out my stomach, diagnose the problem, and fix it.  I was totally convinced that since it was the start of a new year, my luck was sure to change.  However, any of you that know me in person, know that I have about as much luck in life as a guy with whiskey dick pleasing a lady.  

 If you remember, two months prior, I had completed my first procedure, the Colonoscopy.  It is very uncomfortable being in a small room with several people, most of which I had never met before, and knowing that they were going to be all up in your ace.  At the time, I figured I would never see them again because it was suppose to be a wham bam thank you ma’am kind of deal.  But nope, here I was again, only this time they were going through the throat.  I am pretty sure they did not recognize my face, but luckily I had a hospital bracelet with my name on it. 

So I am in the small procedure room changing from my clothes into the usual hospital gown.  I bend over to fold my clothes and put them in the stellar bag they let you keep as a souvenir.  Then as I look up, I see the computer screen is on and there is an ace on it.  I started laughing thinking it was another persons procedure or something, then I stood up straight and  realized it was me!  I turned around, and yep, there is the long camera sitting on the counter pointed straight at me.  I tightly tied the back of my gown since they weren’t going in the “exit only” hole and laid down on the hospital bed (where a many bungholes have leaked before) and waited to get hopped up. 

After waking up from the procedure, the doctor came to inform me of the diagnostic impression: Antral gastritis (inflammation of the antral portion of the stomach), biopsy obtained; normal esophagus; normal body; normal fundus; normal duodenum.  He then provided me a prescription for Nexium, which is used to treat GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease), and scheduled an appointment to see me in 4 weeks.  Within one week of having the upper endoscopy, I was calling my gastroenterologists office complaining of severe stomach pain.  At that time he called in a prescription for Levsin, which is used to decrease the motion of the stomach and intestines and the secretion of stomach fluids, including acid.  The gastroenterologist had also received the results of the biopsy: Chronic gastritis (inflammation of the stomach lining), moderate; Negative for H. Pylori.  It makes sense that I was in a severe amount of pain, daily, since my stomach was inflamed and I was on numerous medications by this time. 

On January 31, 2012, I returned to the gastroenterologist for my follow up appointment.  I informed my doctor that I was still in sever pain and my stomach just continued to get bigger and bigger any time I ate ANYTHING!  He looked at me and asked if I was eating several small meals throughout the day.  I explained that I had been eating small meals throughout the day, but due to the increasing nausea, I had a difficult time eating.  He provided me with a packet of information on Gastroparesis, which included recommended foods to eat and avoid, and sent me on my way. 

By this point, I was really beginning to get irritated.  I felt like he was just pushing me, another patient, through like farmers herd cattle.  It was then that I started realizing that I was going to have to start researching myself to figure out what was going on. 

Turns out my research would pay off…or at least result in the most eventful Valentine’s Day of my life.

I Should Have Bought A Blacklight...

After the ultrasound, I met with the Gastroenterologist Specialist, again. I told him that I continued to look 5 or 6 months pregnant after eating pretty much everything. He suggested I complete a gastric emptying test. For those that are not familiar with this, it is a test that looks at the motility of a persons stomach.

The following week, I was scheduled to complete the gastric emptying test. By this point, I was running out of vacation days at work, and did not want to take off any more time for doctor visits or tests if I did not have to. So, I got my happy ass up and out of bed at 5:30 a.m., got ready for work, and was at the hospital to do the damn thing at 6:15 a.m. I was not 100% sure what all this test would include, but figured I didn’t have to be in Lawrence for work until  11:00 a.m., so I would be good to go if it took a few hours…and of
course, that it did.

After getting checked in, the Nuclear Medicine Technician (who looked just like Kip from Napoleon Dynamite, was about 5’2”, weighed 120lbs, and had a complete mustache) called my name to come get started. He took my blood pressure and then began to ask me the basic questions: what medications are you currently taking; is there any chance you could be pregnant; how much do you weigh; etc. When I told him my current weight, he looked at me and said, “That is your honest weight?  Because your weight is how we calculate how much radioactive chemical to use.” I looked at him and responded, “Yes, sir, that is my weight.  I have been weighed and asked if my ego is Prego 1-3 times per week for several weeks now. Plus, this is not the DMV, I have not reason to lie about my weight.” After that was settled, he went back to his
science lab and began making my breakfast of champions.

This lovely breakfast of champions consisted of one scrambled egg with mixed in radioactive chemicals and a small glass of milk. Now, anybody that knows me, knows that I have a serious issue with eating meat, eggs, and often milk. It isn’t that I do not necessarily like it, but I cannot get past the mental part of it. For example, steak.  I haven’t eaten steak since I was probably in 5th grade, which is odd considering I grew up in southwest Kansas. There is just something undesirable about eating a big slab of meat (possibly still bleeding)
from an animal that kicked it in its own shit all day. Anyways, eggs are the same way. It just mentally grosses me out to think that I am gobbling up some poor unborn chicken embryo. My boss, who is a therapist, always suggested that I could attend therapy and work through that issue. I continually informed him that the day I attend therapy to focus on my meat issues was not going to happen because I would be fine with that being my biggest obstacle in life.

Anyway, the technician brought me my breakfast and I swallowed it all down while attempting not to gag. For the next hour and a half, I sat in front of this large square x-ray machine that recorded the radioactive eggs going to through my stomach. For it to do this, I had to sit very still and not move. This test was also conducted in the basement of the hospital, which meant I didn’t have any cell phone service. So there I was, stuck watching the clock, and occasionally having the technician come in to check on me. I am not going to lie, by that time I was very bored and my mind had started wondering. All I could focus on was the technicians mustache. Every time he came into the room, it took every fiber of my being not to ask him if he had ever given a anyone a mustache ride…if you don’t know what a mustache ride is, feel free to Google it now.

After an hour and a half of sitting there and biting my tongue, I had completed that part of the test. They reviewed the test results, and shockingly, I had failed, my stomach was delayed. This meant I had to complete a second part of the Gastric Emptying test. The second part included them giving me the medication, Reglan, through an IV and then sit in front of the scanner again to make sure it pushed the radioactive eggs through my stomach. Originally, Reglan was produced and used as an anti psychotic.  However, they later discovered that this medication worked well as a motility enhancing drug. They warned me that it may make me feel a bit anxious. Well, let me tell you!  This medication was horrible. I literally sat there feeling like I was about to go crazy. All of the sudden I felt as though I need to get out of the room and be outside in the fresh air. The only reason I didn’t get up and leave in the middle of the test was because I
couldn’t figure out how to get out of the damn room I was in. By that point, I had been there almost 3 hours and wanted nothing more than to get the test over with and go to work. That should tell you how crazy this medication made me feel.

After finally completing all of the test, I was off to work. I really wanted to call in sick and go buy a blacklight to see if you could see the radioactive eggs in my body…but I decided that might not be a legit reason to call in.

The following day, the Gastroenterologist called me to let me know that my stomach was significantly delayed and that he would be calling in a medication for this. I told him immediately that I would not be able to take Reglan due to how it made me feel the day prior. He then prescribed me Erythromycin, which is actually an antibiotic, but is found to work for gastric emptying. I figured that since Gastroparesis is not too uncommon, this medication should work and I would be back in business…and just before Thanksgiving weekend.  However, most of you know that I am not quite that lucky nor do I have any
type of luck at all.

Thanksgiving weekend came and I was ready to get down with my bad self! What do I chow down on? Nothing other than my favorite food…Hot Dogs! I know, all that talk about meat and stuff, it just doesn’t’ make sense. I guess its that fact that hot dogs don’t look like a dying animal on a plate. So I eat hot dogs and other foods throughout the weekend. All the while, the medicine is not working quite like it should, which meant the hot dogs and other food were just sitting in my stomach at 98.6 degree body temperature and spoiling. By the end of the weekend, I had a high fever and severe nausea…which lead to the obvious, hurling. I tell you what…over 24 hours later and those hot dogs looked no different then when I swallowed them. They came back up being the same size, color, everything!

When I returned to Topeka, I contacted my Gastroenterologist and informed him that the medication was not helping the gastroparesis.  He then put me on the medication, Domperidone…And no, I did not mean Don Perion, the alcohol. I took the medication, Domperidone, for several weeks, but just continued to look more and more pregnant each time I ate. By this point, the stomach pain was also getting much worse. Many days I would not be able to stand up straight for quite a while because it felt as though my stomach would rip in half if I did.  After more complaining to my Gastroenterologist, he decided it was time to perform an Upper GI Endoscopy.

This would mean another day of getting hoped up…only deep throating this time.

***Huge Helpful Tip***

Normally I write all of my little 'Helpful Hints' on the left margin of my blog, however, I believe this one is extremely important!  So I have decided to briefly interrupt my medical stories, but will resume them tomorrow.

One of the most important things a person with POTS can do is consume a large amount of sodium.  This helps the blood vessels expand and allows the blood to flow throughout the body easier.  Now, when I say a large amount of sodium, I’m talking 3 to 5 grams per day.  That is a lot of salt!!!  For example, one package of ramen noodles has about 1,300mg of sodium.  The salt tablets I suck on have about 150mg.  My point is that it is difficult to consume that much sodium and stay hydrated at the same time.  As a result of that I have been getting IV fluids weekly for a while now.  And being that I have these awesome veins that work like an old flat empty garden hose, it makes this process quite a hassle – being stuck 3 or 4 times to find a vein…each week…that adds up over time.  My arms were pretty much starting to look like I had been shooting up heroin.  Not to mention the process last 4 to 6 hours by the time I’m done getting the two liters. 

Well, the other day, I remembered that a friend use to talk about drinking her electrolytes while she was doing track at Kansas University.  I called her to find out exactly what those electrolytes were.  Turns out, there electrolytes made by Gatorade.  The actual name is, G Series Pro Gatrolytes Electrolyte Mix.  Each packet contains 780mg of Sodium and 400mg of Potassium.  I had been drinking a lot of G2 since it is high in sodium and has fewer calories, but it also was causing cavities, which my dentist wasn’t too stoked about.  So I took this packet of Gatorlytes in to my doctor and asked him what he thought about them.  He pulled out his calculator and then told me that if I mix 4 packets with one liter of water it would be the equivalent to one liter of fluids I was receiving at the hospital.  The idea alone made me completely ecstatic.  I thought if it really works there would be no more digging on my arms each week, no more bruises, no more sitting in the hospital every week.  The next morning I tried it.  Let me tell you – it works!!!  I have been drinking these Gatorlytes for almost two weeks now and haven’t had to get IV fluids once during this time.  AND, I was able to cancel the surgery to have a port put in on the 14^th of this month!

The one difficult thing about this product is that they are actually made for elite athletes, so they aren’t sold in too many stores.  I have found it easiest to order them off Amazon or the Gatorade website.

For those booze hounds that read my blog, I know there are just a few; this actually is the perfect hangover cure.  Of course, you wouldn’t need four packets - just the one.  However, it’s always better to just say no to drugs and alcohol to begin with.  You booze you lose, kids. 

G Series Pro 02 Electrolyte Mix Gatorlytes

***The information included on this site is for educational purposes only. It is not intended nor implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice. The reader should always consult his or her healthcare provider to determine the appropriateness of the information for their own situation or if they have any questions regarding a medical condition or treatment.***

The Ultrasound That Made My Heart Sink to My Uterus

On the last blog I left off with just having had a Colonoscopy…the most intrusive procedure there is, or at least I thought that at the time.  But that procedure is for another day and another blog.

So I was on a high fiber diet, which was supposed to help shoot everything I eat right through me.  As you can imagine, that is not quite how it worked, which is basically the theme of every doctor appointment or procedure I have had this year.  Every time I ate something my stomach would expand…swell…bloat…get gigantic.  Call it whatever you want, but every time I ate, my stomach would get huge.  At first it was the equivalent to, let’s say, a little baby bump.  But it wasn’t long until even eating a salad would cause my stomach to appear 8 to 9 months pregnant.  I know it sounds like I am exaggerating, but I am actually not.  Sometime this week I will take a before and after picture of eating a salad so you can get an idea of what I am talking about.  Not only would my stomach become huge, but it would become very painful and I would end up vomiting.  In fact this happened so much, I started taking pregnancy tests because I could not imagine why my stomach was continuing to grow, knowing I was not consuming enough food to do so.  I mean, I knew it was almost impossible for me to be pregnant!  Apparently, based on science you have to have intercourse to become pregnant (excluding obvious procedures) and I certainly was not doing that.  But I figured, hey, it happened to the Virgin Mary and let’s face it; we all know I am pretty much as pure as she is!

 After returning to see the Ass Man (Gastroenterologist), who I never thought I would have to see again (I guess I had lost my college touch), he ordered an ultrasound.  Everybody knows these aren’t to big of deal to have done.  You pretty much just lay there and get covered in goo, which all females have experienced in some form or another, whether you admit it or not.  Plus, I had to have an ultrasound when I was about 15 years old.  The technician at the time was shaking the KY Jelly, without the lid on, and squirted me in the eye.  No, this is not a joke!  Totally true story!  Getting hit in the eye with KY Jelly before I was even sexually active definitely foreshadowed my relationships and dating life, I just didn’t realize it at that time.  I figured as long as that didn’t have again, everything was smooth sailing.

I scheduled the ultrasound about 6:30 a.m. Thursday morning so that I could get it over with and not have to take time off of work.  So I get to the appointment and at the very beginning the ultrasound technician tells me that she cannot disclose any findings and that it will all be reviewed and my primary care physician will call in a couple of days and inform me of the results.  She then covers my mid section with jelly and gets this show on the road.  Being that the majority of my mid section would experience periods of pain at different times, this took quite some time.  She had to go over my sides, part of my back and my entire front torso.  On a side note and to clarify – I have never had kids, so I have no idea how the whole ultrasound works when they are viewing a bun in the oven.  She was running the probe down my stomach over and over to get a clear picture.  She then ran the probe just past my belly button and stops…the only words she said during this entire time, “Oh my, we have a strong heart beat right there.”  Being the circumstances of what I was having the ultrasound for, that was the WORST possible statement that she could have made.  At that moment my heart literally sank all the way down to my uterus.  I looked at the technician and said to her, “Ye-ah, that is not something you should probably ever say to anyone again unless they are here because they are prego.”  I of course then started laughing so she would know that while I was seconds away from shitting myself (for the first time in weeks), I was only joking.  Shortly after that she completed the ultrasound and handed me a towel to clean off with. You know the drills ladies…in some way or another.  She then offered me another towel and at that point I responded like I had so many times before in my life, “Ahhhh.  No thanks.  I think I will just go home and take a long shower.  No offense.”  She started laughing and I left.

A couple of days later my primary physician had called.  The ultrasound came back normal for the most part.  Turns out I had a small tumor on my kidney, but it is literally so small I don’t think it really count.  I just have to get it checked again later in the year to make sure there is no growth. 

This is when the different tests just started to snowball into my life like a freaking avalanche.  About every week from here forward I would have some sort of test or blood work done for several months.  The week after the ultrasound I visited Nuclear Medicine.  From a Colonoscopy…to an ultrasound…to eating radio active baby chickens…

The Colonoscopy....What Seemed So Much Like My College Years

Each Sunday morning, I use to meet a group of women for breakfast. Yes, believe it or not, I am actually only 28 and was 27 at that time this part of the story occurred. This group of women and I would just sit, eat breakfast, and shoot the shit…literally! Somehow these, lets call them experienced…or seasoned, women would always end up directing the conversation to their bowel movements (actually the lack there of). It would drive me crazy! Contrary to this blog, I am actually a very private person. Being that I am a counselor, I am more than willing to talk about you all day. The moment the conversation is on me, I am out! I also tend to be a huge germaphobe. I do not particularly care to see, smell, hear, or taste a bodily function of any kind of anyone. You can imagine my disgust when they would bring up their bowel movements. I would always make fun of them and ask if they could refrain from talking about their bowels each time we got together.

Let me tell you – Karma is a biatch! It was not six weeks after this converstation with my "seasoned" friends the doctor had signed me up for a colonoscopy. I was devastated. Naturally, the ladies had a hay day with this.

After a few weeks of hearing the jokes, my day had come to prepare for the colonoscopy and drink the G.I. Hooch. It obviously is not really hooch, but I can not remember what the drink is called that they give you to clean out your system. I just figure G. I. Hooch is a rather fitting name being that it made everything come out of the bum the same way that regular Hooch makes everything come out of the stomach through projectile vomiting. It truly is some awful stuff! Anyone in your 20’s reading this, brace yourselves, it will be a miserable long night…as I am sure you have all experienced before – just a different type of miserable.

The next morning I woke up at the butt crack of dawn (sorry, I can’t help myself) with a colon and ass so clean you could have eaten off of it. That is neither a request or a challenge, and sorry for anyone that drew a mental picture.

So I was in the waiting room at the doctors office and I couldn't help but notice that everyone in there is about three times my age. I turned to my dad (he had been my ride) and suggested that everyone there probably thought I was actually his ride. There were a few shocked faces when the nurse called my name and I went through the door to The Land of The Ass Man (G.I. procedure room). This is where the whole situation starts to get a little hazy. I basically got hopped up (anesthesia), shit went down, and then I woke up hoping to never see any of those individuals again…..Basically, exactly like my college years.

After the colonoscopy they sent out a biopsy, which came back negative for cancer and a few other things. I can’t remember exactly what all it was sent out to test for. At that time they had diagnosed me with Diverticulosis. My non medical way of describing Diverticulosis, is this: Pockets begin to develop in the intestines, where food can get caught, which can result in infections in these pockets (Diverticulitis), and be very painful. To address this, they put me on a high fiber diet: red meat, nuts, oats, and wheat’s, all of the types of foods that are hard to digest but help push everything through the colon. This seemed pretty simple and easy to do. While I am not crazy about meat…let me be more specific…while I am not crazy about eating “animal meat”, I am a big fan of nuts, oats, and of course wheat.

Little did I know, this diet would be the trigger of many many many pregnancy tests…..

It All Started With A Rectal Exam...

Many people have asked me when I was diagnosed with POTS, started feeling sick, or realized something wasn't quite right with my health.  I don't know that there is a simple direct answer to that question, but I'm going to do my best to answer it throughout this blog entry...

So one September day, about 11 months ago, I was attempting to shovel down a sandwich in between groups sessions.  At the time I was a drug and alcohol counselor, and as anyone in that field of work knows, it is usually a hectic environment and you often eat in between appointments instead of breaks.  Anyway, halfway through my sandwich I realized it just kind of got stuck...literally....like a rock in my upper abdomen.  I thought this seemed really weird, but figured maybe it was because I ate too fast.  So I finished work and headed home.  About two days later I remember walking my dog late one night after I had gotten home from work, after we finished our walk and made it to the bottom of the stairs and I remember looking at the stair case thinking, "There is no possible way my body is going to make it up these stairs.  What the heck is going on?"  Well, I did make it up the stairs that night and into bed.  However, this feeling of exhaustion stuck with me the rest of the week.  It seemed like everyday I was able to do less and less.

...Don't worry, I'm getting to the good part...

That was the beginning of the week, by now it is Friday and I'm thinking I need to go to the doctor.  My skin was as white as a sheet, I was exhausted, I had headaches throughout the week, my stomach was still getting hard when I ate, and I was always cold.  So I ran to the doctor Friday morning before I commuted to work.  At that time I'm thinking it will be a throat swab to test for strep throat or finger prick to test for Mononucleosis, you know, the usual stuff we have all had done before.  Hah!!  Boy was I ever wrong!  Sure they checked that stuff out, but apparently there were some red flags in the family history that mixed with the stomach issues.  Next thing I know they told me to lay in the fetal position on my side.

Now ladies, you know how when you go in for your yearly pap smear and you have to mentally prepare yourself?  I mean, you know what is about to come and how the drill goes, but there is just something about having a non routine member in the area.  And men, I'm not sure how it goes for you, but I'm guessing when the doctor asks you to turn your head and cough, there's a little mental preparation that goes into it AT LEAST an hour or two before the appointment.

Well let me tell you - There was no opportunity for the mental preparation for the doctor to do the anal exam that I received that day in the doctor office.  Which by the way was completely normal...as I knew it would be since I kept insisting the problem was in my STOMACH.  I left the doctors office that day with several emotions...and as I write this...I'm still not sure what they are.  Aside from the emotions, I also left that day with an appointment scheduled for a Colonoscopy with a Gastroenterologist, suspected GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease) and recommended to take Prilosec, and a negative Mononucleosis test.

My shit starts where other peoples ends...



Blue Ribbon At The Fair???

I'm not sure if I mentioned this earlier, but there seems to be a serious lack of knowledge about POTS.  It's largely unknown to many people in the community, but also to many medical professionals.  How unknown, you ask?

Well, just a moment ago I decided I would Google Image 'POTS Awareness Blue Ribbon' so that I could put a picture of the blue ribbon on my page.  And this is one of the most simple tasks a person can complete.  You can Google Image anything and find just what you are looking for.  I would know, I'm a real sucker for this type of thing.  You wouldn't believe the types of emails my friends and coworkers have receive only to find disturbing half naked people or things.  For example: all I have to do is type 'Bunny Man' into the search engine and the picture below pops right up.  Super easy!

Anyways, back to my point...So when I type in 'POTS Awareness Blue Ribbon', one of the first pictures to pop up is this one...

Seriously???  A first prize, blue ribbon, PIG???  Nothing like a little self esteem booster with that one!  I mean sure the pigs eye lashes appear to be curled and he/she appears to have eye shadow on AND after all it did get first place...

I did find a blue ribbon, which is posted just below this comment.  The point is - There clearly needs to be a LOT more awareness raised about this disease.  If Google doesn't pull much up on the topic then there isn't enough information out there.  After all, Google has all the answers.  : )

What This Shenanigan Is All About...

Before I actually start blogging about the fun stuff, or medical mystery stories (I totally should have been on the show 'Mystery Diagnosis' by the way), I will briefly explain what POTS is.  POTS is an acronym for the disease Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.  You might also hear this condition referred to as Autonomic Neuropathy with Orthostatic Hypotension or Dysautonomia.  The name they stamped me with is Autonomic Neuropathy with Orthostatic Intolerance and are calling it POTS for short.

Autonomic Neuropothay is a nerve disorder that affects the involuntary body functions such as blood pressure, heart rate, digestion, and perspiration (that's why I glisten instead of sweat buckets).  The Orthostatic Intolerance part means that if I stand up too fast or for too long, I am liable to pass out just after I start getting dizzy and my vision goes black.

Below are two videos that explain POTS (I will be calling it that in the rest of my entries) much better than I am able to.  I will warn you - The first video is about 35 minutes long, however, it is very educational for those that are seeking something like that.  The second video is only about 5 minutes long and more of a humorous cartoon.  Enjoy whichever floats your boat!

POTS Documentary

What The Hell Is POTS??