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Jan. 13th, 2004 07:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_rckI survived both the endoscopy and my brother's visit.
Sam arrived Sunday evening. He did not end up bringing the ferrets after all; apparently the maintenance work that had been scheduled for Monday got canceled, so he could safely leave them in his apartment.
We ordered pizza and watched The Two Towers extended edition. He'd not previously seen the movie at all, so he was quite interested. That and playing with Delia killed the evening. I think Sam really likes being an uncle. He's not quite sure what to do with a baby, but he wants to figure it out.
We talked a little bit about his education plans and such. He'll be finishing his bachelor's degree at the end of next fall term, probably with a major in sociology. Then he wants to get a masters in social work. He plans to apply here and to his current school. In and out of state tuition prices aren't relevant because he's out of state anywhere he goes. I'm hoping he'll get in here, but I'm not going to hold my breath. He's gotten turned down by the University of Michigan twice before.
The hardest part of preparing for the endoscopy was not drinking anything that morning. I could manage the not eating part without too much trouble, but I kept wanting water. Even with two humidifiers, our house is pretty dry in the winter (Scott's thinking about installing a humidifier connected to our furnace or some such. I don't know if it'll happen this year, though).
Sam and I got there with about 30 minutes to spare. Finding the clinic was easier than I'd feared it would be. Every single person I talked to while checking in asked me if I had someone to drive me home, and at least one told me that if I didn't they'd have to hold me in recovery for quite a while longer.
The nurse who took me back to get changed told me to take everything off. Later, the nurse working on the actual procedure told me that I could have kept on everything below my waist. I wish I'd known that-- It was cold in there.
As I'd expected, the worst part was the I.V. At least, they put it in my hand (I was dehydrated enough that none of the veins in my arm were usable), so I didn't have to try to keep my whole arm immobile. I don't remember all that much of the actual procedure. They'd warned me that I might not, and I had an existential debate in my head about whether or not something really happens if you know while it is that you won't remember it. When you forget something that you experienced, does that mean that you lose the person you were during those moments? You certainly lose the mental conclusions you reached, all the incremental growth you achieved during those moments... I don't know.
The results were about what we expected. I have a hiatal hernia between my stomach and esophagus. It is "moderate sized" at 5 cm. I also have some tissue in my esophagus that may be pre-cancerous. They took samples to test, and I should hear about those results in a couple of weeks. I'll be seeing the doctor again in April, and I expect we'll discuss treatment options for the whole mess.
I was middling dopey when they let me out of recovery, far less badly affected than I'd feared I would be. Sam got me home without trouble, and I went to take a nap. My throat hurt a lot, and talking was difficult. Naturally, lots of people called wanting to know how it went.
Delia came through okay. I ended up not feeding her for about 7 hours. Scott gave her solids and some carrot-apple juice, and she was kind of cranky, but overall, she did fine.
Sam left about 4 that afternoon. I think he doesn't like being around other people for very long. That, and he needed to get back to the ferrets and to his job.
I was mentally a bit fuzzy all evening and didn't even attempt to write. I thought about it, but I was fairly sure that I'd botch anything I tried. Stringing words together felt a little too difficult. Instead, we watched Stargate SG-1 reruns, and I tried to remember not to talk.
Scott had scheduled today off, too. I'm glad because my body was not up to functioning well. I had another nap this morning. I think that the fibromyalgia makes it harder for me to bounce back after something like this. My body took the whole thing as a greater insult than it really was. Having a tube stuck down one's throat isn't pleasant, but it hardly counts as major trauma. Still, my body sulked.
Once I got up, we took care of some errands. First, we stopped at Applebees because I was in desperate need of protein. Delia seemed to enjoy watching the people around us. She stared and stared and then gradually relaxed and began to babble while playing with one of her rattles.
Then we went to Babies 'R' Us to look at gates. We didn't like any of the models we saw, really, and we concluded that we really needed the measurements of the doorways in order to figure out what we could consider.
After that, we went to the Underworld to pick up comic books. I also got some used manga, two more volumes of Magic Knight Rayearth and two volumes of Oh My Goddess. We discovered that my ATM card doesn't work (The bank claims that I've never had an ATM card. They're going to send me one some time in the next week). I'm not entirely surprised since I hadn't used it in months, but it's rather distressing. What if I'd been in a situation where I needed money and Scott wasn't there?
I also gave Scott a list of things that I thought needed doing. He's been slowly working his way through it. A lot of them are fairly simple tasks that we've both kept forgetting. For example, he called to get a couple of largish items of trash picked up-- A hollow core door and a rusting old heater. They've been out by our garage for months. I'm sure our neighbors hate us; our clutter brings down their property values.
Sam arrived Sunday evening. He did not end up bringing the ferrets after all; apparently the maintenance work that had been scheduled for Monday got canceled, so he could safely leave them in his apartment.
We ordered pizza and watched The Two Towers extended edition. He'd not previously seen the movie at all, so he was quite interested. That and playing with Delia killed the evening. I think Sam really likes being an uncle. He's not quite sure what to do with a baby, but he wants to figure it out.
We talked a little bit about his education plans and such. He'll be finishing his bachelor's degree at the end of next fall term, probably with a major in sociology. Then he wants to get a masters in social work. He plans to apply here and to his current school. In and out of state tuition prices aren't relevant because he's out of state anywhere he goes. I'm hoping he'll get in here, but I'm not going to hold my breath. He's gotten turned down by the University of Michigan twice before.
The hardest part of preparing for the endoscopy was not drinking anything that morning. I could manage the not eating part without too much trouble, but I kept wanting water. Even with two humidifiers, our house is pretty dry in the winter (Scott's thinking about installing a humidifier connected to our furnace or some such. I don't know if it'll happen this year, though).
Sam and I got there with about 30 minutes to spare. Finding the clinic was easier than I'd feared it would be. Every single person I talked to while checking in asked me if I had someone to drive me home, and at least one told me that if I didn't they'd have to hold me in recovery for quite a while longer.
The nurse who took me back to get changed told me to take everything off. Later, the nurse working on the actual procedure told me that I could have kept on everything below my waist. I wish I'd known that-- It was cold in there.
As I'd expected, the worst part was the I.V. At least, they put it in my hand (I was dehydrated enough that none of the veins in my arm were usable), so I didn't have to try to keep my whole arm immobile. I don't remember all that much of the actual procedure. They'd warned me that I might not, and I had an existential debate in my head about whether or not something really happens if you know while it is that you won't remember it. When you forget something that you experienced, does that mean that you lose the person you were during those moments? You certainly lose the mental conclusions you reached, all the incremental growth you achieved during those moments... I don't know.
The results were about what we expected. I have a hiatal hernia between my stomach and esophagus. It is "moderate sized" at 5 cm. I also have some tissue in my esophagus that may be pre-cancerous. They took samples to test, and I should hear about those results in a couple of weeks. I'll be seeing the doctor again in April, and I expect we'll discuss treatment options for the whole mess.
I was middling dopey when they let me out of recovery, far less badly affected than I'd feared I would be. Sam got me home without trouble, and I went to take a nap. My throat hurt a lot, and talking was difficult. Naturally, lots of people called wanting to know how it went.
Delia came through okay. I ended up not feeding her for about 7 hours. Scott gave her solids and some carrot-apple juice, and she was kind of cranky, but overall, she did fine.
Sam left about 4 that afternoon. I think he doesn't like being around other people for very long. That, and he needed to get back to the ferrets and to his job.
I was mentally a bit fuzzy all evening and didn't even attempt to write. I thought about it, but I was fairly sure that I'd botch anything I tried. Stringing words together felt a little too difficult. Instead, we watched Stargate SG-1 reruns, and I tried to remember not to talk.
Scott had scheduled today off, too. I'm glad because my body was not up to functioning well. I had another nap this morning. I think that the fibromyalgia makes it harder for me to bounce back after something like this. My body took the whole thing as a greater insult than it really was. Having a tube stuck down one's throat isn't pleasant, but it hardly counts as major trauma. Still, my body sulked.
Once I got up, we took care of some errands. First, we stopped at Applebees because I was in desperate need of protein. Delia seemed to enjoy watching the people around us. She stared and stared and then gradually relaxed and began to babble while playing with one of her rattles.
Then we went to Babies 'R' Us to look at gates. We didn't like any of the models we saw, really, and we concluded that we really needed the measurements of the doorways in order to figure out what we could consider.
After that, we went to the Underworld to pick up comic books. I also got some used manga, two more volumes of Magic Knight Rayearth and two volumes of Oh My Goddess. We discovered that my ATM card doesn't work (The bank claims that I've never had an ATM card. They're going to send me one some time in the next week). I'm not entirely surprised since I hadn't used it in months, but it's rather distressing. What if I'd been in a situation where I needed money and Scott wasn't there?
I also gave Scott a list of things that I thought needed doing. He's been slowly working his way through it. A lot of them are fairly simple tasks that we've both kept forgetting. For example, he called to get a couple of largish items of trash picked up-- A hollow core door and a rusting old heater. They've been out by our garage for months. I'm sure our neighbors hate us; our clutter brings down their property values.
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no subject
Date: 2004-01-13 04:41 pm (UTC)Glad to hear that everything went well. Feel better.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-13 06:52 pm (UTC)My bank did that to me. I showed the teller my ATM card, and she placidly said, "But you've never had one." Baka.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-13 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 01:06 am (UTC)Thinking positive thoughts for you.