Posted by: jeanne | July 9, 2008

prepping for medical tests, allnighters and everything

i’ve got to be at my gastroenterologist’s procedure suite tomorrow morning at 10. this is fortunate, because it turns out that they’d had me scheduled for last thursday at 6:30 am, and that was unfortunate. way too early. even before morning rush hour.

anyway, while they had me scheduled for last thursday, i had it down in my book for this thursday, and so it ends up being this wednesday after we sorted it all out.

so i’m studying for the tests they’re giving me tomorrow – poking me with a stick, and sticking fingers down my throat.



how do i study? it’s as much like torture as any scholastic cramming. only the only thing i’m cramming into myself are salty little (well, huge fucking) pills, 2 every 15 minutes until i shit out everything in one rumbly brown lumpy stream of bowel irritation.

what’s in this stuff? you may know how i detest processed foods, additives, natural flavors. (see my food industry blog). i’m digesting a bunch of propylene glycol and magnesium stearate, along with the active ingredient, and suffering the mental tortures of the damned. my body hasn’t registered anything yet, and i’ve been taking 2 pills with a glass of tea (and vodka) every 20 minutes. the instructions say 2 tablets with 12 ounces of water every 15 minutes, but i’m sitting on the computer, and time goes by unpredictably. i wouldn’t hear the timer on the microwave if i’d bothered to set it.

so it’s been almost an hour of swallowing these pills. i’m trying to drink my tea down as fast as i can, but i can’t guzzle, and just end up taking forced gulplike sips.

so i go to the kitchen feeling guilty because it’s been longer than 20 minutes, and decide there are a lot of pills left, and i’m only supposed to take 2 courses of them, one at 6 and one at 10. but because i’m going to bed earlier than that, i’m starting them at 4 and again at 8.

of course, by the time i took the final dog walk i’m going to be able for for quite a spell, and by the time i got back and oriented toward the pill-taking regimen, it was ten to five. and so now it’s after 6 and i’ve got a lot of pills left to take. so what gives. 2 every 15 minutes, but there’s like 20 left over. shit.

i looked more closely at the simplistic instructions that i only cursorily glanced at before. instead of the 2 i was expecting, the diagram clearly showed 2 rows of 2, which as everybody knows, equals 4. (except for here)

grrrrr. an hour into something explosive like taking these salt pills, and i’ve only taken half? so i refilled my glass with water and ice, and took the handful of tablets i still had to take back to the computer, and am swallowing them as fast as i can, which is no more than one every 3 minutes or so, because i can’t bring myself to swallow that much liquid, and the pills are psychologically repellant to me. the sight of them makes me queasy. so of course i don’t want to take another mouthful of water AS WELL.

but i do, staring balefully at the goddamn pills and that sickly tea-colored glass of mostly water, and i can feel my eyebrows coming together in disapproval.

i once tried fasting. i was off on a 3-month vacation with my ex the ax murderer it was in the way north woods, in a mostly empty valley that i would wander up and down in, doing my version of leaving-the-bastard therapy, which consisted of loud echoing sobs as i hiked around the great north woods.

i ws unable to continue fasting beyond mid-afternoon. i felt hunger pains and remembered something about getting sick from released toxins if you don’t keep the fuel coming, and had myself convinced that i was going to die if i didn’t eat really soon.

it’s amazing how powerful the body urges are. they completely override conscious inhibitions.

i’m on a diet today of clear liquids. it started with black coffee with a little honey this morning. nasty. then i progressed to more coffee mid-morning. and then i heated up some broth i’d made yesterday, in anticipation. yesterday it was soup, with chicken and bison simmered with onions, celery, carrott and tomato, potato and white beans, and herbs, and i ran out of garlic, damn.

last night i ate the vegetables and meat, squished up and with tomatoes and spices and i called it chili and everybody ate it.

today it’s just whitish broth. it’s supposed to be clear, but i can’t bring myself to it. there’s potato starch and animal fat. i can avoid drinking the sludge perhaps.

last time i did this, the doctor yelled at me. i ate one tiny spoonful of sherbert late in the afternoon of the day before, and it left milky streaks all over the inside of my intestines. oops.

this time i’m being more careful. altho i did the indian thing of heating up spices in some oil and adding it to the soup broth. i used cinnamon and cloves and nutmeg and coriander and ginger and chili powder and garlic powder, and browned them in butter, and then tossed some vinegar into the broth before i drank it.

i’m not used to horribly hot foods, and this was one broth that made me think of fire, and got jim up to refill his water glass unexpectedly during lunch.

the spices were probably something i’m going to get yelled at for, this time. cinnamon is red. cloves are red. chili is red. the instructions clearly state you’re not supposed to have tomatoes or grape juice or beets because the red will show up looking like blood when they take the camera in rhere.

and i ate loads of them. i did however avoid the sludge on the bottom. i feel virtuous. and i spat out all the coriander seeds, too.

i’m beginning to feel the slightest rumblings in the ascending part of my large intestine. i’ve just now downed the last pill for this round, and will wait on the effects. i’ve done this before. purging is a very interesting experience.

i rememeber one time when i was getting a colonic. i receommend them heartily. nothing like cleaning out the built-up accumulations of toxins in the lining of the gut. mmm good.

i was getting a colonic, about 5 gallons of warm water was being irrigated thru my large intestines, i was positioned on a clinical table with my butt end clearly visible in a mirror that i could use to watch. or not.

i always like to watch. whether it’s them putting a needle into my veins, or whether it’s watching the operation i’m in surgery for, i always insist on being able ot see what’s going on so i can make sure to ask all the stupid questions i want. i am quite capable of making the surgeon forget what she is doing.

maybe not so enlightened.

anyway, in the middle of this colonic. it was about 45 minutes into the procedure, and i suddenly fetl as if a muzzy cloud had lifted off my brain. all of a sudden i could think better. it was like moving thru a veil. it was incredible, the difference. logic was easier, intuition was easier, clarity was crisp and easily communicated. everything was clean and crisp and apparent. and this state of awareness lasted all day.

ah, i can smell jim in the kitchen. not himself, his smell isn’t that strong. i can smell dinner. when i don’t make dinner, he cooks his old standby, which is skanky frozen burgers from sam’s club. our houseguest allen must have gottten back from his new construction job, and must be hungrey, because it’s smelling awfully good in there.

i’ve pretty much stopped eating red meat, except for bison. and i’e just realized that bison is made the same old horrible way regular beef is made, so i don’t really want to eat that anymore.

grass fed beef is your only man.

anyway, i’m fasting, drinking nothing but liquids all day, and i’ve just gone thru this ordea l fo swallowing 20 pills in about an hour and a half, and now there are searing meat smells coming back here from my kitchen. waaaaaah.

which is why i’m drinking even tho they specifically tellll you not to. so i won’t mind as much because i’ll be in an altered sttate.

i hongry.

they used to make you drink this horrible bottle of liquid and wait to shit it out. now it’s pills. they’re horrible, and salty, but better than the liquid. the flavors and texture additives were poison. with the pills it’s necessary ato drink lot s of water, to give your bowels something to flood thru them. you don’t want to be dehydrated and take these pills, it’d be like processing sandpaper. roto rooter.

how boring life is without food. i spend the morning dog walk thinking about breakfast, and then pick and nibble thru the morning, and dream up something nice for lunch, and spend maybe several hours planning and contriving dinner, and i’m always thinking of desserts but seldom making them.

i learned while cruising thru the catalan countryside with my friend francis, that all activities are merely ways of killing time between meals. eating was the highest good, that and drinking a bottle of wine at every sitting. and good conversation. the real, true values of life.

the grumbling has begun, so i’m going to finish this up and go sit in the bathroom with a good book.

* * *

well, it’s several hours later, and i just can’t keep it in. i simply must let my feelings out or i shall explode.

thus my enlightening experience with intestinal purging.

it gets to the point where you don’t know if you’re shitting or pissing. it sounds the same. you’ve drunk so much water that it feels the same. you just can’t tell.

this can be a little disconcerting. except for the fact that you’ve been going thru this so long that you’re thoroughly tired, exhausted, and jaded. physically, if your asshole dropped out of your body you wouldn’t feel much surprise.

so, grumble grumble grumble, then you feel this pressure, like you have to fart. but at this stage, you can’t be sure. so you rush to the bathroom, and make it just in time to hear what sounds like a gallon of water hit the bowl all at once.

it’s exhausting, fasting all day. the hours go by so much slower than when you can eat. life is so empty without food. thank god we’re organic beings. life as a rock would hold no temptations for me.

all day i ate nothing, and then in the end i crammed down as many pills and as much water as i could hold.

excuse me, i’ll be right back.

thanks. that’s better. it’s certainly better waiting out the cramping episodes sitting here at the computer, rather than relaxing into the false sense of security that is my dark bed, the false promise that is sleepiness, next to my jim, who is sleeping thru all this getting up and lying down stuff i’m doing every five minutres.

i throw the sheet off of my legs, and swing them onto the floor. then i get up heavily and stagger thru the dark to the bathroom, sit down, release the floodgates, pick up a book, and sit there, my rectum aching and stinging, a fetid, organic, homely kind of vegetable aroma all around me, all those spices i stuck in the soup. the results in the bowl in fact look remarkably like the soup broth i had for lunch today.

that was funny. lunch. 2 cups black coffee with honey, and then a bowl of broth, thin, watery gruel, more spices than taste, took my mouth awhile to calm down afterwards. and then nothing to look forward to. oh, i could have paced myself, led up to a dinner of more broth later. but i put the rest way, and just decided to drink water, because i coudn’t stomach the pretense of trying to drink hot water and pretend it was food.

hamburgers. steak. stir fry.

i started fantacizing shit i don’t even like to eat – french fries. onion rings. fried chicken. milkshakes, gooey artificially flavored ersatz ice cream. mmm.

and eventually, after 20 pills and one gallon of water, i was bloated, nauseous, hiccoughing, farting, feeling drunk and off balance, stumbling thru the dark to go to the bathroom. AGAIN. and after an interminable time, i flushed and turned off the light and staggered back to bed, and crawled up next to jim and pulled the sheet over me and plumped my pillow and sighed, and started to relax and drift.

and then felt pressure moving toward the outer airlock. captain, she’s going to blow.


and for what? so i can get up early and be hungry for maybe 4 or 5 hours before they open my veins and knock me out with something that feels really bad during my last second of consciousness, cram cameras and scalpels up my ass and into my stomach, and then revive me while telling me what they found (and me not able to retain it or ask any questions – hell, in my book) and send me off too shaky to drive.

jim is going to make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the recovery room. he’s my hero.

i keep trying to end this on an upbeat note. i keep getting interrupted by pain and anguish.

this last one was intense nausea, followed by the usual urgent pressure in my rectum, followed by having to decide whether to shit first, or throw up. i was really sick for a few minutes there.

i threw up second. it was all salt water, of course, and i felt so much better after i had done it, like that kid in the sixth sense.

i feel like a mindless thing leaking life energy, like a chicken with its head cut off, reflexively, spasmodically, violently flinging my insides out.

and as soon as it stops i’m going to have a lovely night sleeping thru the hunger pains.

maybe i’ll try for sleep now.



  1. I love that Bush picture! Hilarious! 😀

  2. Well Jeanne, the wait was worth it. Laughed my head off.

    I can’t believe how much I laughed at the bodily functions.

    I loved the leave the bastard therapy.

    But Jeanne, mostly I hope that the tests today go okay and that they find nothing they shouldn’t.

    Love Renee

  3. Charming!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: