Tag Archives: colonscopy

Bipolar/Colonoscopy/My Birthday

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On the 3rd, I turned 55. On the 6th, my eldest child turned 26.20180203_183832

On the 8th I had a colonoscopy. I remembered to take my chill pill ahead of time so it was just mostly terrifying. The doctor came to talk to us after the nasty experience was over. Good news! I didn’t see anything. But, bad news, (despite all my crapping my pants) you weren’t clean enough for me too see far up and get a good look. We’ll have to… do… wait for it… AGAIN. Would you like to reschedule for tomorrow or come back another time? OMG! I just went through all that pain and mess and ruined clothes and bath mats and impromptu showers and crap! and you want me to do it AGAIN??? I just missed a whole week of classes – MIDTERMS – because everyone was so worried that the reason I was crapping all the time was that I had cancer. And now you say I wasn’t cleaned out enough? Reschedule. Oh hell no. This is happening tomorrow. I’m not taking more time away from school for this crap. (my chill pill seems to have failed me completely at this point) We rescheduled for the next day, Friday last week. They prescribed some special super duper pipe cleaner to empty things out to the max this time. I’ve had this stuff before. Makes you want to puke till you pass out. No lie. I was so sick. Did I finish it all off like they threaten you that you have to? Hell NO. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what happened to me through this week. Thursday, when he said we had to reschedule, I crapped all over the bathroom floor before we left. I thought he said they’d do a couple enemas to try to clean things out. Huh. Wonder where the hell that all came from? Enema my ass.

So Jessica and I went back the next day after another 24 miserable hours of me needing to poop but never feeling that “urge” to go that they talked about. I just went. And went.

I was so, so stressed out. I was mad. I’d had it. I forgot to take my chill pill. When the little woman (yes, I’m still mad) finished my intake (vitals and junk) she took me to this huge room, all by myself (well, my anxiety was with me). It was freezing. How long am I going to be here? Should be 20 to 30 minutes, just depends on how things go. Excuse me?! It’s freezing in here. She brought me a single warmed blanket. A few minutes later she comes into the hall and puts another woman in the room next to mine and says it will just be a few minutes. As she was leaving the woman I said sort of loudly something like this:

“You realize they’re just putting us back here like airplanes in a waiting pattern circling an airport don’t you?”

She brought me another blanket. I’d been banging my legs on the huge exam chair I was sitting on. I thought I was going to freeze my butt to it. I can’t even imagine what that room is used for. The stupid woman had asked me if I was or could be pregnant. I had a D&C years ago. That has always been enough information for the person asking to understand that I meant – no, can’t happen, no way. This woman (and I’ve been alone since 1999) insisted that I could be pregnant in one of my tubes. I nearly bitch slapped her.

Okay, I’m still mad.

Yesterday in one of my classes we’re working in groups. Well hell, all my classes are working in groups. Anyway, this young bossy, know it all boy, who is maybe, maybe 22, informs me that I can’t say that I’m handing out postcards to people on campus and say to my potential backers that we’re hoping it will be given to a student who is stressed.

I can’t say what? You can’t say you hope they’re stressed. You can’t imply that people are stressed. Are you insane? This is basic marketing. You develop your event. You target your audience. Then you market to that audience. Most college students are stressed. Chances are if I give one of them a postcard about our event (to reduce STRESS if you can believe that) on stress… well, I could go on and on. The professor had to come to the back of the room and get us to stop “yelling” at each other 4 times.

The stupid boy would freaking lie to her. He’d tell me to my face that I couldn’t say stuff. Then I’d say exactly what he said to the prof. Then he’d lie and say he didn’t say it.

Then, the little toenail lint roll had the gall to say that he was going to be the first one up to introduce our topic and talk about how much terrible stress he’d been in and missed three weeks of school because of it. I asked him if he was going to try to get the audience to empathize with him so they would be on board with our pitch. He said no way, he wasn’t going to be personal. What the hell? I’m over this boy.

The wonderful professor reminded me that I’ve had a really rough quarter. I really, really have. My last experience last quarter with a group was a disaster too. This time I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone walk all over me. So, every time he opens his mouth he’s telling someone to do something. I’m probably older than your mother you child. You want to talk about stress? I’ll tell you about stress and when I’m done… you’re gonna feel stress!

I dunno. I’ve got one quarter left. I need to pass this science class. I’ve not been doing the homework since my poop apocalypse.

I’m really feeling my brain coming together in a good way with what I want to do when I graduate. I’ll need a part-time job while I finish setting up the websites and get the book re-typeset and printed. So exciting! Then there’s the resource center for people with mental health difficulties – cutting the crap – people like me who have Bipolar and PTSD and chronic pain and ADHD and anxiety and a very short fuse.

Wow. It’s been a long week right? I feel like things are teetering on spinning out of control. Jessica and I are getting Blue Apron meals three times a week. We both eat like crap… okay… translation… we don’t eat anything. So now we’re eating and cooking together which is super good for both of us and then we do homework together. I tend to fall asleep. She likes to wake me up. Good match.

Well, I’ve talked and talked at you. I’m sure it’s enough. Oh, wait! Two women I’ve met at school, within a week of each other, told me they wanted to be divorced but needed an income first. Both are super stressed. Both are not handling the stress well. One laughs when she’s stressed. I sent her to a new primary care doc so she would feel freer to talk without feeling weird talking to her husband’s doctor. This doc is giving her a chill pill and sending her to counseling. Excellent. The other woman is already taking a chill pill. I recommended going in and telling them how it isn’t working. She spent most of yesterday barfing from the stress.

What is it that there is so much stress and debilitating anxiety around? It scares me. And what is it with young people today telling me I can’t say that anyone is something specific, even though they are that way and they admit that they are… I still can’t say it. What the heck?

I did get a nice letter in the mail for Valentine’s Day. It’s from the Gastro people. I don’t have cancer. Really, you couldn’t have just called? A letter? A damn letter?

People we need each other. We need to shake hands so that we can physically touch someone without being arrested. We need to say thank you to customer service people. We need to take the concerns of other people seriously. We need to respect our elders (you little lint roll). We need to find healthy ways to reduce our anxieties. If I can’t control mine better the next time I might not just argue with the boy loudly. I might yell. Wouldn’t that be awful?

A Bipolar Colonoscopy

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This eyeball is the way the Katy Perry concert last Saturday began.

I apologize in advance for this post. It’s long. It’s not written well. You might have trouble following it… but I hope you’ll think it’s funny. My life has always been strange. This is a snapshot of some of my odd life. Feel free to ask questions. It confuses me too. But, I think it’s kind of funny. Please enjoy. 

My life has been anything but normal. Seriously. My own mother has told me for over thirty years that I should write some of this weird stuff down because no one would ever believe it. Let me give you an example from right now. Yes, this is happening right now.

Okay, I have Bipolar Disorder. Yes, I do. I’m all broken up. I don’t just mean mentally, I mean all the heck over my whole body. Top to toes. The whole thing.

Let’s look at this current adventure – I’ve had the poops since Christmas Day. You heard me. I’m not going to say it again. Do you know how hard it is to get a doctor to see you over the holidays if you’re not dying? You say, “Look, I’m going in my pants! You have to HELP ME!” But no. So you call the after-hours nurse line. Take Kaopectate. I have. Take an extra dose right away. I’m on my second bottle in four hours. Oh. You should see your doctor. Bloody hell. I can’t deal with this stress. I have anxiety problems you know. I’m sorry. You could go to the Urgent Clinic. Excuse me. I can’t stop going. I can’t possibly ride in a car. Oh. I’m sorry. Shit…

Fast forward to the first week of January. Well, I can give you these pills. Later… they’re not working. Can I take more? No, they’ll bind you up. Yes, that’s good. That’s what I want. No, see the specialist. I went to the specialist. She was wonderful. On my way there, my daughter left her car keys in my house and we got locked out. No problem. I have a hidden key. Bloody key doesn’t work. She was with me when we tested it. It worked! It doesn’t work now. My mom drives 30 minutes to let us in my house. It is freezing. We miss the appointment. Shit.

I start calling the doctor. The appointment center is very sorry. I’m like, you don’t understand. I have to be seen. Thank the stars… they had an opening with a female doctor at three in the afternoon, and do you mind, it is in your city. Do you mind driving just 15 minutes? Um, no. Not at all. I love you.

Hi doctor, please help me. I’ve been… I explain the problem. Take these pills. They’re the same ones my primary doctor told me to only take one twice a day. (I looked them up online. I’ve been taking two twice a day for a week and a bottle of Kaopectate a day.) Oh, well you should have been taking two-twice a day. Gee, thanks. I love you. Well, we need to do labs. Fine. I love collecting my own brown stuff. (I puked last time.) Gave them blood. Take more, please, do more tests. Anything. Labs are NORMAL. Shit.

I had a VERY bad experience four years ago having a crappy colonoscopy. I refused to have another one just two months ago. New doctor, who I love. You have to have one. Oh, and you know how you’ve been having trouble swallowing your Bipolar and handful of other pills? Yeah. We’re gonna look down your throat and do an esophagus and see what’s up. Yep, I’m the person you see for both problems. Great. They’re going to spin me around halfway through and do it all at once. Oh hell!

Today, prep day. I’m miserable. I was up all night last night having a panic attack. This is all so good for my stress. My counselor is worried. I called the doctor doing the procedures. I asked his office people, Can I PLEASE take my Chill pill before the procedure? Oh sure. We have people take them all the time. Apparently, everyone freaks out about it. Can you imagine that?

Tomorrow morning I start the last part of the prep for the procedures. I’m not happy.

My birthday was Saturday. I’m 55 now. I qualify for the iHop 55 and older menu. You get fewer pancakes… but it comes out to the same cost per pancake as the normal menu. I was all excited for nothing. Later, Jessica, my eldest and I went to the Katy Perry concert here in Tacoma. It was a great time! We had a blast!

Jessica’s birthday was yesterday. She spent it buying the supplies… for her mother to prepare for the procedures. Yeah…

We spent most of the day together today. It felt great to be with her. She helped me stay calm. I had to take a chill pill before the concert and again yesterday. But today, with my kid here, I didn’t need one. She’s amazing.

So tomorrow is the day. 1:15 p.m. That’s when we get this thing done. Now, I’ve finally been taking enough pills and fiber to stop having to run to the bathroom all the time. Um, that’s exactly what I need to do now. Please, let me go so this thing can go right the first time. I’ve had to take time off of school for this. It’s mid-terms! Imagine explaining to my professors what’s up. OMG

That brings us to right now. I’m having anxiety. I thought maybe talking to you might help.

This is one of the really strange things going on in my life.

Oh, and what if they don’t find anything? Then what? Is my pooping my brains out all in my head?! Don’t go there girl. Focus. But what if they do find something? My dad just died of cancer three years ago. Okay brain, stop it! Time for distraction. TV. I think I’ll watch TV. Why don’t I go to bed? What if I need to, you know, while I’m in bed? What if I can’t move fast enough? OMG!

Well, this has to be resolved one way or the other. I can’t keep being afraid of leaving my house. I can’t keep this up any longer. I have to know what’s wrong.

I have Bipolar Disorder. I have massive anxiety. I have PTSD. I have FM and chronic pain. I take opioids to control the pain. Wait, isn’t that supposed to clog the pipes up? Well it isn’t working.

I would like to get in shape. I would like to sleep tonight. Forget about getting in shape. Time to focus.

I think I’ll start my “going to bed” routine. It takes me about an hour. Just before I lay down I get YouTube up on my phone and start playing a 10 hour relaxing track playing water sounds and some relaxing music. Then I lay down and watch something on Curiosity Stream. That takes 30 to 60 minutes. Or, maybe I’ll read. I’ll decide when I lay down. I pet my doggie and tell her good night. Then I wrap my Captain America blanket around my shoulders and snuggle in for the night. Shortly Maks, my loving cat, will come in and smash his big wet nose into my bare arm. Sometimes he misses and hits my face. He will then purr loudly for a long time. He lets me lay my heavy arm across his body when he finally settles in.

At 8 a.m. my alarm will go off and I’ll get up and do the last part of the prep. Yeah…. Sigh.

This is so damn weird.

You know, I’ve started talking out loud and moving my arms like I’m talking and emphasizing what I’m saying by waving them around… just as I’m falling asleep. You gotta know I wake back up again. Stress? What do you think?

I’ve had enough of this. I thought all the brain problems were a handful. This is ridiculous.

Well, good night. Wish me luck. I’m kind of feeling sad. I travel with a load of mixed state Type 1 BP. I guess I might sleep. Last night I was full of anxiety and mania. I wrote one of my mid-term papers and mapped out a presentation for another class. I worked on my novel the rest of the night. I think I’d like to feel blue for sure tonight. I can only hope it will help me snooze… till 8.

Goodnight.