My weekend from hell -

In case you were wondering where I've been, well it wasn't pretty. I'll spare you some of the gory details, but here is a quick summary. Friday evening, hell entered my body and came in the form of violently evil symptoms. Due to symptoms that were not your average flu bug, I knew that we needed to get to the hospital. BUT ... since I just began my job AND our insurance is now under my name ... AND this would not be effective until after midnight that evening, we waited. Remember this post? I know, it's Carma.

Anyway, the rest is a bit blurry, but here it is. I was taken right back to a bed where they couldn't start my IV because I was already dehydrated. Finally, it was in place. Went through several blue barf baggies, was shaking like a leaf but they didn't want to cover me up because it would encourage the fever, had to drink C.T. contrast AND not throw it up until after the CT scan was complete (which finally involved some IV nausea medicine), had 5 gallons of blood drawn (slight exaggeration) and was prematurely diagnosed with Pancreatitis (which is usually caused by ridiculous drinking habits). Luckily, this diagnosis required pain meds ... relief for a few minutes! I had to be admitted, but for 24 hours there were no beds available ... anywhere. They finally admitted me next to an old lady (in the same room) who yelled at the nurses, farted and had her TV turned up for the obviously deaf until my Dad politely suggested that she turn it down (which she quickly did, and then turned it off, rolled over and farted some more) ... right after she yelled at the nurses one more time.

By this time, it was discovered (by no small miracle) that this hospital did not have a GI doctor on staff. They wouldn't let me leave with a family member without being discharged and beginning all over again in another waiting room, BUT they would deliver me in an ambulance to a neighboring hospital who had my own room waiting for me. By now, the fever was 102.5 and the old lady behind the curtain made the decision an easy one. I was taken to another hospital, where the GI doctor knew that I needed a Colonoscopy. This would be my second ... not a fan. Sunday, they brought in the medication and drink that would prep me for my procedure. I've had nothing to eat since Friday and diarrheas since Easter, but they're prepping me like I'm a fat Italian (or at least they're trying). If you've never heard of the product called Go-Lytely, get on your knees and praise all that is holy ... because it is now what I will refer to as the devil in liquid form (DILF for short). So I am literally ordered to drink one gallon of DILF OR they will have to put a feeding tube down my nose WHILE I'M AWAKE and feed it through this way. I managed to get two large glasses down before the volcanic eruption began. At this point, I felt I had no choice and I surrendered my nose. So here we have Neil, my male nurse, lubricating the end of the tube that is going to be inserted into and down my nasal cavity while he instructs me on what my role in this sick and twisted event will be. We begin, it doesn't work, I decide that there is some sort of negative force field preventing the tube from going down any further ... he tries both sides and fails ... five times.

At this point, I am ready to get into the car ... ANYBODY'S CAR, and just go home. But, my Dad, in all of his wisdom, gives me a blessing that everything will just work out. Somewhere during that blessing, I knew that I had done all that I could do, my poor nurse had done all that he could do, and it would be ok. The next day the colonoscopy was performed (in and of itself a blessing) and NOTHING was found (even bigger blessing).

So tonight, four days later, I appreciate the bowl of corn flakes that I just had as a sign of slowly getting my appetite back. I appreciate being at home again. I appreciate the phone calls and well wishes from friends. But most of all, I appreciate the prayers and the support that my family gave me as my parents drove down and stayed at the hospital almost the entire time, as Gary did double duty taking care of me, sleeping in the car in the parking lot and then going home to take care of the kids, my Grandma for making my bed EVERY TIME I got out of it (which was many), Mary Ellen for telling me that she couldn't drink the DILF either and demanding the blessed enema, my "little" family for the visit when I was feeling a little better and finally Carol for bringing me home safely to your flowers, goodies and my kids.

Unfortunately, sometimes we need a taste of DILF to appreciate the profound perfectness that surrounds us. I am blessed.