3 Procedures + 1 DJ

posted in: Sicky 3
"Twilight near Hetlingen in Germany." Photo: Huhu Huet, 2009.
“Twilight near Hetlingen in Germany.” Photo: Huhu Huet, 2009.

The title of this post is a play on the title of a song I love by the Beastie Boys: Three MCs and One DJ. The Beastie Boys were and are the best band in the world, so that settles that.

I had an upper endoscopy, a pouchoscopy, and a CT scan different from the CT scan I had yesterday because the one today involved contrast. When you have a CT scan with contrast, it means that when you’re in the big donut, you hear a voice come over the PA system that says, “Okay, Miss Fons, we’re going to start the contrast,” and then you feel the strangest, wildest warm liquid spread through your body starting at the point where you have your IV placed. Contrast fluid is getting pumped into your veins and you feel it! and it makes your belly warm, and it makes your arms and legs warm and, let’s be honest, it makes all your parts, hm, very warm and it’s not unpleasant, but this is not going to be offered as a spa treatment anytime soon.

So those were the three procedures I made reference to in the title; the DJ was just the muzak over the speakers as they wheeled me on the gurney to and fro and to all over these Northwestern hallways.

Did I mention yesterday they did a freaking spinal tap? And that I got three freaking sacs of human being blood? I have no recollection of writing yesterday’s post but I can’t bear to go back and look to see if a) I really did and b) if it needs revising/overhauling — I’m sure it does. No use. Typing through pain medicine is like typing Morse code through Jell-o, through pain medicine. It’s very anxiety-causing. Each PaperGirl post is a mini-newspaper, you know, except that every post is a first draft. The audacity.

The doctors don’t know what’s going on. Tomorrow, a pelvic ultrasound. They have to figure out where the Sam Hill all this hemoglobin is going. Fibroids? Something more sinister, still? My sister Rebecca and I have decided to call my blood cells my “hemogoblins” and we have to corral them all back to where they need to be.

Dull as my brain might be at the moment, the moments themselves, they live in the Land of The Neverdull.

Also, you must remember this. 

3 Responses

  1. […] of love, the move, the rats, the second move, the hemogoblins, etc. — all this has meant that for many moons my cocktail dresses have stayed put on their […]

  2. Irony. | Mary Fons
    | Reply

    […] I’ve got another week from today. I’ve been getting cozy with these things since I basically ran out last year; aside from the weird stuff that likes to show up on my CT scans, I’m anemic. My hemogoblins […]

  3. […] the dead of night and head to the hospital if need be — heck, sometimes I do just that for reasons that do not involve babies! But that hospital piece is actually hugely relevant: I have a ton of experience with […]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.