One of those days #2472

Wayfarer | 23 September 2008 | 5 Comments

I’ve had a, ahem, lower abdomen problem for about four weeks now. Symptoms have been frequent visits to the throne room with the marching-tune called “urgent pitter & patter”. The first week was tolerable… just an infection, no biggy; I will fight it out, sort of week. The second week I was too busy and besides it looked like I had it beat. The third week I actually made an appointment with my Doctor due to the increase of frequency. SWMBO was surprised I made the call… usually it’s she who makes me go see the quack and places the call herself. So, naturally, she panicked. Not.
Doctor puts me on a dose of medicine and asks for a urine sample to which I reply “not a problem, hold the jar steady”

Sorry if you’re eating breakfast right now, perhaps I should have warned you.

The pathology came back negative for infection, so he gave me a referral for a CT Scan. I actually placed that call myself too, and women say men don’t take responsibility for their own health; that’s two calls I’ve made AND I got my self to the surgery AND I picked up my own script! What’s more, I made an appointment for the next morning (today) instead of waiting a week or so.

So, from midnight last night there was no eating or drinking, then this morning I had to “evacuate” and then drink a litre of water (about 1 2/3 pints for the metric challenged), then rush down to the radiology labs before Pall Mall got flooded by Water Works. If you’ve been busting for a leak then you’ll know how uncomfortable it is but try it with a litre of Niagara behind you!

Never had such a bumpy train ride.

And, guess what… it’s raining

And it’s cold.

I fill in forms and sign a declaration that I understood the risks of the procedure.  I’m thinking “what risks? It’s just a scan, right?” It turns out they want to pump me full of iodine. It has mild side affects such fever, rash, death. Sure, I sign away, like you have any choice, and think “They don’t know I am married to a lawyer… she’ll pwn them seriously if I get a bad case of death”. Not being the shy or nervous type I strip into the gown-of-laughter; y’know, the one with the slit up the back… you’re never quite sure how much your showing nor if the laughter is a joke they just heard or your bot-bot they just spied!

You might die, is that okay with you?The radiologist, female, (who else?) then confirms I am aware of the risks and lists them, ending with “The chances of death are one in a million; are you okay with that?”

“Sure, no problem” I reply nonchalantly.

Come on? “You might die, is that okay with you?” Sheesh! The bedside manner some people have.

It’s all over in 15 minutes, the iodine was a buzz.. It rushes through your veins and arteries into your organs and you can feel it all the way, then your body gets really hot like there’s a fire nearby. In less than a minute it all dies down (poor choice of words) and the panic subsides.

After I’m dressed I make a controlled rush to the loo for instant relief.

I continue to the studio, put out fires all day and start an urgent project that just doesn’t get off the ground. I spend longer than I should trying to get something to work and realise it’s 7:30pm and it’s my turn to rush home at 5pm to cook dinner and look after the children.

Aaakkk! into the elevator!

The mobile phone rings;

“Dad, the rain is getting into the downstairs toilet and it’s coming though the light”
“Eh?, Is it flooding the lounge?”
“No, it’s going down the drain.”
“How much is there?”
“About a centimetre deep all over the floor”
“Can you get a mop and push it down the drain; I’ll be home in about an hour.”
(Spend two minutes explaining what a mop is, no it’s not the broom, and where it is)
“Okay, what about dinner?”
“Can you put some filled pasta on for you and Angus?”
“Okay”
“Thanks”
“Bye”
“Bye”

I leave the building when it occurs to me it’s not actually raining and even if it were it would be a really, really big rain to get anywhere near the “downstairs” toilet.
Panic!
“Hello?”
“It’s dad, is the bath overflowing?”
“Um.. yeah, I went to get the mop and Angus left the bath on”

Arrrrghhhhh!

“How much water is there?”
“Well, like, it’s flooded out into the hallway, the carpet is all squishy, the bathroom floor is all wet”

Arrrrrggghhh!

“Look, try and get as much water up as you can, get some towels… and don’t forget dinner. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Cost so far:
$60.00 for the visit to the Doctor
$14.00 for the medicine
$65:00 for pathology
$549.85 for the CT scan
$godknows.00 for new toilet ceiling and possible new hall carpet.

Just one of those days.

PS, the irony of having a wee problem and the house flooding is not lost on me.
PSS., yes, I found a broom in the bathroom.

5 Comments so far | Post a comment

WAHAHAHAHAHA makes my day look tame.

When it “rains” it pours, doesn’t it? =P

well heres to hoping that they find out all is well and nothing serious is going on with you! keep us updated on how your doing and get better mate.

Thanks UNK. The carpet guy has been out to lift the carpet and take the under-felt outside to dry. He left us with a blower which has been put under the carpet to help dry it and the timber floors. So far the ceiling inthe downstairs loo hasn’t swelled or fallen in so here’s to hoping it makes it throug okay.
The 24hr response time with the insurer is now into the 48h hour so we’re a little disappointed with their performance. The “case manager” isn’t returning calls left on her voice mail.

The problem downstairs seems to have abated, but I should get the radiology results later today.

Well, The Doctor says the scan tells him nothing other than I have an unrelated disease which more fiber in my diet will help make go away. So, to wait another two weeks and see if it fixes itself. If not then another round of tests.
He confirmed I’m not suffering any form of cancer in that region, so there’s some good news.

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