Friday, April 20, 2012

Doctor Part 1

Some of you may know that I have been having health issues lately that have forced me to go see a doctor. While I usually scorn such acts of weakness, I thought it was time. However, in retrospect I shouldn't have bothered.
My first visit landed me with a middle-aged man-doctor who thought I was the dumbest little girl to ever grace his exam room. Obviously, the eight hours of burning abdominal pain coupled with vomiting I experienced every two months for the past year was nothing but stomach acid. And the tiny itchy bumps that were breaking out all over my body causing me to scratch incessantly were probably just dry skin because "Utah is drier than Seattle." Nevermind that I've been in Utah for three years. The only thing I got out of that visit was an ultrasound. Only, the nurse told me that I had to drink a lot, but couldn't urinate for two hours before hand, so by the time I got to my appointment my bladder was about to explode into a million tiny pieces. When I mentioned this to the lady doing my ultrasound she acted confused and then said that, since it wasn't a pelvic ultrasound, there was no reason for me not to pee. Great, awesome. Also, they were looking at my gallbladder and the ultrasound came out normal.
For my second try I requested a female doctor who might "sympathize" more with my condition. My first impression was that this doctor was ten times better than he-who-must-not-be-named (cause I honestly cannot remember his name). Female Doctor was a lot more responsive to my complaints and she talked to me like an adult, which I am, legally. She listened to my symptoms, asked me some questions about my bowel movements, and set up some lab tests and a Hida scan. A Hida scan is basically the master scan of gall bladder scans. So this would tell me, for sure, if I had some sort of gall bladder disease.

Doctor Part 2

So, on the day of my scan, I mosey on over to the hospital without eating breakfast because I can't each six hours prior. The doctor takes me into a room with a bed and a circular scanny thing, typical hospital stuff. Then he says, "Let me go get the injection." What? Come again? Nobody said anything about an injection. I thought this was just going to be a quicky; in and out in like half an hour. But, since I'm a pro at needles, I just roll with his, somewhat nonchalant, confession of my impending death. So, seeing my confused expression he asks, "Have they told you anything about this scan?" No, no they haven't. "Well," he continued, "I'm going to inject some amino acids laced with radioactive tracers into your body. Then it'll take about a half hour for the tracers to reach the gall bladder, a half hour for the gall bladder to fill, and half an hour for it to empty, and that's what we'll be watching. So that's about an hour and a half." Awesome! So he slides me on under the scanner and lowers it down. When I look up there is a TV perched, conveniently, above my head and I pass the time watching the food network. About half way through, the doctor makes me get up and walk around for twenty minutes because I'm taking too long. Finally, they inject some saline and hormones into me to mimic whatever hormones food produces or something like that, whatever. By the time I leave I'm starving and sick, either from whatever he injected into me or because I was having massive cramps and couldn't take any medicine. But, all in all, a good experience. A few days later (can you believe this post is still going?) I get a call from the nurse and she tells me that my scan was normal. So it's not my gallbladder, I just have crazy, unexplained pains every few months. OK. But the nurse is not done. "You had a high amount of creatinine in your kidneys. We'd like you to take a 24 hour urine test." My first thought is, "Crap." The nurse has me come into the health center and the lab hands me an enormous, for lack of a better word, jug. It's the size of a Costco maple syrup container. They even give me a BYU bookstore bag for a "disguise". I decided to start the day after finals because I didn't want to have to worry about carrying around a jug of my urine while studying and taking finals. However, I had to finish up some research for my professor so I ended up carrying my backpack, filled with only my urine, to school that day. Also, the bookstore bag came in handy whenever I had to use the jug. It was kind of fun, I enjoyed laughing to myself every time I went to the bathroom and listening to the swishing as I walked around campus.
The best part was when I went to turn in my jug of urine. I went back to the health center lab and gave them my jug. The guy said "Oh yeah, the 24 hour urine test, the test loved by roommates everywhere." I had no idea what he was talking about, until the other guy said, "Oh yeah, I forgot you have to refrigerate it." Oh crap... No one told me that. I just sat there like I had done everything right, hoping that my test would come out ok anyway. However, when they tried to look up my test they couldn't find the original order for the test. The lead to them asking me questions such as "Did a doctor tell you to take this test?" and "Did we give you this jug?" No, I just thought it would be fun and so I procured a large jug in which to pee for 24 hours and then give it to you guys... Anyway, they got it all sorted out, took some of my blood, and I left there with high hopes that my un-refrigerated urine would give them good results.

Sunday, April 1, 2012


Some of you may be familiar with my "sister-in-law" Julia's blog. If you are you probably would have seen a very offensive and not true at all post concerning ME. I mean some parts were true, like everything good she said about me. Yeah I pose like a sexy beast in pictures, but I gotta be true to myself, ya know? Anyway, I can't just let someone so small walk all over me, so without further adieu (and in light of recent viral video themes) I give you...



I suggest you make it full screen. Believe me, you'll want to.