So I will keep one blog post to chronicle this mess, rather that clutter the blog with hourly updates.
I took a vicodin, anticipating that (1) this is gonna be uncomfortable, and (2) I'm gonna be nauseous and probably not be able to keep anything down later, so I better get this in my system.
About to ingest the first 8 ounces of this rocket fuel. Then another 8 ounces every 20 minutes. Gah...awful sounding already.
I did something like this many years ago in college -- 1.5 oz shots of beer every minute for 100 minutes. Followed up by shots of vodka for those left standing, with one shot per minute. It did not end well. At all. In fact 25 years later I still don't like vodka. Gin, being the only thing I didn't drink in college, is now the only thing I like. Well, that and scotch.
As much as I would like a robust discussion of fine spirits to serve as a diversion / procrastination tool, I cannot tarry any longer. Bottoms up, people. Fire torpedo one. 6:05PM.
Well, the good news is that stuff is pretty tasteless. Firing torpedo two now. 6:27PM.
6:51. Firing torpedo three. So far, only issue is mild headache from NOT HAVING EATEN IN 24 HOURS. How did Gandhi do this, I wonder? :)
7:05, about to fire torpedo four. Getting full. Of water. Starting to be reminded of those stories about how you can't drink a gallon of milk, or a gallon of apple juice, or crush an egg in your hand...or something like that. In any case...glug glug glug. Here we go.
7:10. First rumblings. Need to pee like a racehorse. Eye on the prize here...only four more glasses to go and I have 15 minutes respite before I have to chug another one. I have a feeling the fun is about to start, though...
7:26. Torpedo five swallowed. Feeling a little queasy although I'm not sure if I'm waterlogged or if it's the medicine or just the vicodin-on-an-empty-stomach. Two mammoth belches have emerged. It is time to venture into the bathroom. By the way...sure looks like a hell of a lot of water left in that big pitcher...
7:52. About to swallow torpedo six. Am going to conduct measuring experiment as I'm sure there's gotta be more than 64 ounces between what I've swallowed and what is left. Stuff has started to work, I'll leave it at that. Comment of my good friend Scott noted. Glad you're out there, pal. Between this and the NFL draft I'm not sure what's more thrilling to follow in real time... ;)
7:56. Experiment confirms mis-measurement and an extra 8 oz in the pitcher. While this might seem inconsequential, nausea is setting in and I could barely get down that last slug of water. I doubt I will be able to do the extra 8 oz.
8:12. About to fire down torpedo seven. Nausea is becoming an issue and there's too much left. No way I'm ingesting more than the 64 oz...which is probably the breaking point even moreso than the amount of the colon-blow that's dissolved in the water. However, if I only get about 85% of that crap in me (no pun intended) it may just have to do.
8:40. No way I'm finishing the rest of this stuff. There were about 10 cups, not 8, in the jug and I'm only drinking 7, so I will only have 70% of it in me...which means I'll only have taken 10 days worth of laxative in two hours instead of 14. This will have to suffice. If I have another teaspoon I'm gonna throw up and that will do nobody any good whatsoever.
Ugh.
As for the impact of the digested agent...it has been almost non-existent to date. The waiting game is gonna be a blast, I'm sure.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
"You're putting WHAT, WHERE?" Also, another CureTalk panel today.
Hello folks.
Those easily offended may want to skip this one. With that in mind, the non-offensive part is that I'm participating in another CureTalk panel today with some familiar panelists and Dr. Orlowski from MD Anderson. We have some good questions teed up. The one I am most interested in asking relates to the IMF's Black Swan initiative and whether this is tantamount to an admission on the part of the IMF that some people are being cured of Myeloma today.
Okay, crossing the rubicon into PG-13 territory. What can I say, if I can't laugh about this stuff, I'd cry so I choose laughter.
While the "what the hell is happening to me" stage of dysentery was cured by the Vegas trip, the low-grade "am I ever going to have a solid bowel movement again" stage continues unabated. When I expressed to the GI specialist, Dr. LJ, that I simply had to get things under control for the Vegas trip, he doubled me up on Immodium and gave me a powder -- cholesterium -- which supposedly helps and also plays some role in cholesterol reduction (which is a good thing for me as I have high cholesterol). The physician's assistant JA in Arkansas suggested I try this, but when I brought it up to my primary care physician Dr. PZ, he said it was an ineffective way of reducing cholesterol and I should go back on the Lipitor -- the prescription to which indirectly led to my diagnosis more than four years ago. So I may return to that drug -- I've been giving my liver a respite but the cholesterol has crept back up into the 230 range, mostly because of high triglycerides, so I'll need to restart the Lipitor soon.
Anyhow, when I saw Dr. LJ he prescribed the cholesterium and I'm not sure whether it was that or the doubling up of Immodium but they helped somewhat. I eased off them, and the diarrhea returned (though not as horrifically as it was pre-Vegas). So there is still a problem.
To determine exactly what the problem is....requires an upper and lower endoscopy. I swallow one camera, and the other one goes in another entrance. Hence the title of this post. Fortunately, I'm going to be unconscious for this. As long as they don't leave anything behind and I'm unaware, I'll be fine. I have heard from someone, however, that the recovery room consists primarily of older men groaning about being bloated followed by deafening flatulence. I hope that I will quickly recover from the effects of the anaesthesia so that my time in said recovery room will be limited. Sounds like a real slice of Heaven.
But it is not this, dear readers, that has me concerned. It is the next 24 hours. Even though there can't be much in my intestines to being with, I've gotta go through an industrial strength car wash.
That means (1) I am not allowed to eat anything for the next 24 hours, and can drink only coffee, tea and clear liquids; and (2) I am expected to ingest AN ENTIRE CANNISTER OF THIS STUFF OVER A TWO HOUR PERIOD VIA 8 OZ. GLASSES OF LIQUID EVERY 20 MINUTES.
Those easily offended may want to skip this one. With that in mind, the non-offensive part is that I'm participating in another CureTalk panel today with some familiar panelists and Dr. Orlowski from MD Anderson. We have some good questions teed up. The one I am most interested in asking relates to the IMF's Black Swan initiative and whether this is tantamount to an admission on the part of the IMF that some people are being cured of Myeloma today.
Okay, crossing the rubicon into PG-13 territory. What can I say, if I can't laugh about this stuff, I'd cry so I choose laughter.
While the "what the hell is happening to me" stage of dysentery was cured by the Vegas trip, the low-grade "am I ever going to have a solid bowel movement again" stage continues unabated. When I expressed to the GI specialist, Dr. LJ, that I simply had to get things under control for the Vegas trip, he doubled me up on Immodium and gave me a powder -- cholesterium -- which supposedly helps and also plays some role in cholesterol reduction (which is a good thing for me as I have high cholesterol). The physician's assistant JA in Arkansas suggested I try this, but when I brought it up to my primary care physician Dr. PZ, he said it was an ineffective way of reducing cholesterol and I should go back on the Lipitor -- the prescription to which indirectly led to my diagnosis more than four years ago. So I may return to that drug -- I've been giving my liver a respite but the cholesterol has crept back up into the 230 range, mostly because of high triglycerides, so I'll need to restart the Lipitor soon.
Anyhow, when I saw Dr. LJ he prescribed the cholesterium and I'm not sure whether it was that or the doubling up of Immodium but they helped somewhat. I eased off them, and the diarrhea returned (though not as horrifically as it was pre-Vegas). So there is still a problem.
To determine exactly what the problem is....requires an upper and lower endoscopy. I swallow one camera, and the other one goes in another entrance. Hence the title of this post. Fortunately, I'm going to be unconscious for this. As long as they don't leave anything behind and I'm unaware, I'll be fine. I have heard from someone, however, that the recovery room consists primarily of older men groaning about being bloated followed by deafening flatulence. I hope that I will quickly recover from the effects of the anaesthesia so that my time in said recovery room will be limited. Sounds like a real slice of Heaven.
But it is not this, dear readers, that has me concerned. It is the next 24 hours. Even though there can't be much in my intestines to being with, I've gotta go through an industrial strength car wash.
That means (1) I am not allowed to eat anything for the next 24 hours, and can drink only coffee, tea and clear liquids; and (2) I am expected to ingest AN ENTIRE CANNISTER OF THIS STUFF OVER A TWO HOUR PERIOD VIA 8 OZ. GLASSES OF LIQUID EVERY 20 MINUTES.
Note the fine print there: 14 doses. I have to have FOURTEEN DOSES in a two hour period. By the way, this photo doesn't do justice to the size of the jar -- it's about six inches tall.
Dr. LJ's printed instructions inform me that the forced ingestion of this much in rapid fashion will be followed by at a minimum two to three hours (or more) of crippling nausea and diarrhea.
I am reminded -- as anybody under 50 reading this surely will be -- of the following.
Once again, the bottle I am taking is larger than the one Jim Carrey dispenses in this clip.
For men UNDER 50 (the same ones laughing at the clip, most likely) -- ask not for whom the bell tolls. You'll all need to get this done soon enough. I'm just getting mine out of the way a few years early.
And with that...I'm off to starve myself.
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