*WARNING! If you are one of those people who gets squeamish hearing about stomach/GI issues, or you're one of those weirdos who thinks girls don't poop, this is not the post for you!*
I know, I know, I suck at this blogging thing anymore. I got all blog famous going to conference after conference, and now the last thing I want to do is sit down and do the very thing that made me famous in the first place.
I kid, I kid.
Between speaking gigs (that sounds so cool), there's been a lot of tests and procedures and doctors, thrown in with a three-day
The worst thing about lupus is that it can effect any part of the body, and there is virtually little warning. Six months after a normal (well, normal for me with my repaired TOF, terrible for someone with a healthy heart!), another echo showed moderate aortic regurgitation that wasn't there 6 months prior. The culprit- lupus. It's frightening to know that at any moment I could have a seizure, a stroke, a heart attack. Or, I could wake up one morning and be pouring buckets of blood out of my ass.
Off to the gastroenterologist I went, where I received very little answers, and we wouldn't get them without more tests.
So. Sick. Of. Tests.
First up, the camera capsule endoscopy to check for signs of crohn's disease, colitis, celiacs disease, or any else that could point to the source of my ass bleeding. You swallow a capsule, the size of a large pill, and as it makes its way through your GI tract, it takes and records pictures for the doctor to see any abnormalities.
It's like paparazzi for your small intestine.
Let me start off by saying that at age 33, I can't swallow pills. You would think by now I could take handfuls at a time, but I can't. I'm flawed.
The day before the study I did my bowel prep (4 liters of GoLytely… gross), and shit my brains out til there was nothing left in me. So glamorous, the life I lead.
You know where this is going, I couldn't swallow the capsule. I tried. I REALLY tried. The tech rolled her eyes at me and told me that was $10,000 down the drain, to which I replied, "good thing you're not paying for it."
For the losers like me who can't get the pill down, I would be put to sleep and a doctor would place it through endoscopy, and that was scheduled for 2 weeks away.
In the meantime, I had to see a colorectal surgeon. Yeah, that's a specialty. Why someone would want to spend their days elbows deep in butt holes is beyond me, but I guess someone has to do it.
In walks a handsome, dark haired, blue-eyed man who could have been on the cast of Grey's Anatomy. No, he wasn't an actor, he was the butt hole surgeon. Of course he would be gorgeous, because let's not make this any more uncomfortable (literally and figuratively) than it has to be.
We chat about my health history ("TOF AND lupus?!?!") and what led me to see him, my bloody butt. The inevitable came, he got out a paper drape, told me to undress from the waist down and he would be back with his assistant.
When they came in, he wasted no time gloving up, lubing up, and sticking two fingers in my rectum. Rectum?!?! Damn near killed 'em!
So handsome doc is digitally assaulting my bum, asssssking me questions, and all I can do is pray to the Butt Hole Gods to keep me from farting, as I will more than likely blow the poor man's hand off, leaving him to never operate again.
No farts. Mission accomplished.
Just when I think the rectal invasion is over, he says he wants to take a look with anoscape. Yep. An anoscope. That's a thing, folks. I told him he needed to buy me a few drinks first if he thought I was going to let him anywhere near my butt again.
And in my anus he scoped (no drinks, what the hell?), and after a ton of pain, he finally said to get dressed, and he would come back in to chat.
Anal fissures. I gots them. Lots of them. They are small, oval tears in the lining of the anus that can cause extreme pain and bleeding with bowel movements. My God, I get sexier by the day. He thinks the cause is due an inflammatory process, such as lupus or some other type of inflammatory bowel disease. Dr. Butt Hole also said I have a tight sphincter, which made me laugh. All those years thinking I had great, tight buns of steel, turns out it's my sphincter. Womp womp.
I need colorectal surgery, because due to the inflammation and all the imunosupressants I'm on, the fissures will never heal themselves, and result in the continuation of bleeding every time I go to the bathroom, not good for a gal with chronic anemia. Surgery consists of performing biopsies which will likely diagnose any type of inflammatory bowel disease (somewhat common to see an overlap with SLE and colitis, more rare to see SLE and Crohn's), injecting Botox in my butthole to relax the muscles, and a surgical division of the internal sphincter, all with hopes of loosening up my ass a bit, allowing the fissures to heal.
There's a joke there somewhere. I asked BEFORE he put any Botox in my bunghole, if he could inject some in the crows feet around my eyes. Who would have guessed Botox is a wonder drug. No wonder those rich, tight-ass housewives love it so much.
I wanted to get it over with, but the recovery time is about 6-10 weeks, and I have a trip to Chicago for a conference coming up. Probably won't be until the middle of September, which I will recover and then have a much more intense surgery (not on my butthole) not long after. Can't accuse me of being boring.
On Tuesday morning, Brie took me to have the endoscopy and camera capsule placed. I didn't sleep Monday night due to another fun bowel prep, but the thought of a delightful Propofol sleep (I totally get it, Michael Jackson), made up for the explosive ass all night long.
I vaguely remember the CRNA explaining that the tube used to place the camera capsule was much larger than the usual endoscopy tube, that I would have a pretty sore throat for a few days, but I was asleep before I could reply.
I woke up feeling like I spent hours deep throating Shaquille O'Neil. Holy fuck, did my throat hurt. It still hurts. All the popsicles, ice cream and Sucrets in the world aren't helping. The endoscopy showed a hiatal hernia, which are quite common in lupus patients, but mine is not large enough to need any type of intervention. I'll get the report of the camera capsule (ie- intestinal paparazzi) in a few days.
Yes, it's been an assload of fun up in these parts!
Love you all! <3
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