Saturday, 21 April 2012

Bad guts, Hospitals and My First (and hopefully last) Colonoscopy

Right folks...I've had a bad stomach for a few weeks. I went and saw the doctor and he had it diagnosed as diverticulitus. The basic description is that there is an inflammation in your intestine. It's pretty uncomfy and I was on meds for a week but that didn't really cut it. So I go back to the doc who in pretty good English says "well I think we should admit you and you shouldn't eat food for a couple of days"..."piss off" runs through my brain and I have the teeth marks on my tongue to prove how controlled I was. I turn to my Korean teacher..."So Jun, is he serious?" Jun:"yup...our health is very important" "BALLS"

So now not only do I have to go to a Korean hospital, I can't eat for two! not eat! unheard of. Actually turns out that this was a blessing in disguise. 

In I go...a few amenities..I say a few cause I have no idea what the hell to pack. I kind of presumed I would have a nice little room to myself where I can read and chill. HELL NO. I get to my first room, it's 2 million degrees and the average age was at least 80. As I write this i'm fairly confident the chap in the bed next to us isn't part of this planet. So I ask to change rooms. Room 712 is a much better option. It's only a million degrees, so that's a start. My Korean teacher is still around to help me out, and very politely asks the four chaps in the room if any of them spoke any English so as to help poor little Chubb should he require assistance....'yeong-eo opsoyo'! Basically translates to not a bloody lick of Engrish. Oh well. 

Nursezilla turns up. time for my drip to be set up....attempt 1: FAIL  attempt 2: FAIL attempt 3: FAIL.. c'mon seriously!!! So she makes a personal substitution and gets in what I presume was someone with half a minute's experience because attempt 4 goes in...and we're off! Now I'm not too manly to admit if there had to be a fifth attempt I might have fainted. My body did not like being stabbed repeatedly. I had the sweats and shakes. 
Nursey number 2 then hangs the sign that have my Korean roomies giggling food allowed! BALLS
Day 1 not going so well! 

I finally get to eat some 'food' after 2 days. It was some kind of rice soup. I image they basically blended up some rice added some more water and served it to me....F*&K ME it was just awful. The next day wasn't much better. I was allowed 'soft food' Korea (and most of Asia) they crazy buggers eat the same thing for breakfast lunch and hands up if they think Western Chubby wanted 2 pieces of unknown fish )with bones) boiled rice, spicy fish soup and picked radishes at 7am...let alone at 12pm for lunch and then again at 6pm for dinner. 

The chaps in my room turn out to be a great bunch of guys. Cannot for the life of me remember their names, but despite the language barrier, tried to help me out as much as possible. We would go for cigarette walks (I didn't smoke, just went for a walk) In a Korean hospital you can go pretty much wherever you like...We would go round the block on good weather days. I had my drip, a guy on crutches, a guy in a wheelchair and one guy ok to walk although probably shouldn't have been smoking cause I think he was in there for some kind of chest infection?!

But as much as I loved these guys and they really helped me out, my God they were a pain in the arse to share a room with...the farting, spitting, snoring, slurping and just general bodily noise that came out of the three of them was by the end just too much to take. 

So I spend 4 days 3 nights at the hospital. Get me the funk home. Doc gives me meds for another week. No booze (what!!) no spicy food (what!!) and not too much no fun!

A week goes by and I still have problems. I go off the meds for the next week with no real improvement or signs of it getting any worse. So I go for a second opinion. I go to another stomach specialist recommended by a co worker. Unfortunatly she says there's not much she can do. I should have had another scan before I left the hospital. But I didn't.  So back to the doc (who by the way is a fucking arsehole) who now reckons I don't have diverticulitus. No shit Sherlock! Then the dreaded statement that i'm pretty sure i'll never forget...."i think you should have a colonoscopy"....hmmmm "anything else we can try first?" doc: "nope" (arsehole). I get it booked in for the next day. I get a lovely package of goodies to take home with me as well in preparation.

I now i've gone on a while but this REALLY IS THE BEST BIT!

Between the hours of 9pm and 11pm I have to drink 2 litres of what I shall call 'purge solution'. This stuff is advertised with a little lemon flavour sign on arse. This stuff is rank. I go through the first hour struggling to keep it down the front end and worrying about the back even more. But nothing really happening. 11pm comes along and I finish the last of the PS. "hmmm this isn't so bad"

"HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"............................WOOOOOSHHHHHHH!

This continues basically through till about 230am.

Round 2:
6am. 2 more litres in 2 hours. 

There's not a lot left in me...i'm really tired and as you can imagine pretty grumpy. I get through maybe 5 sips before 'all systems are go'....for the next 2 hours I basically just sat on the loo. In one end out the other in the matter of seconds. And no matter how much I drank there was always more coming out than going in.

I have a moment of comic genius and decide that seeing my arse would be scary enough but seeing a day of arses can' be fun at all. So I draw this on my right bum cheek.

The broken damn finally dries up and I make my way to the hospital with Jun (Korean teacher). 
"you have the option of being awake or asleep"... "knock me the funk out"

Get to the bum section of the hospital and check in...almost like a hotel. Nothing like a hotel.

Get hooked up to my drip in preparation for the event. Then of all bloody things to happen the last swoosh of water in my stomach wants to come out. Quick run to the bog. I walk back and they're calling me name...AnDaRoo...

They wheel me in and hook me up to a heart rate monitor which suddenly jumps to about 150 beats a minute when the nurse brings in the python camera that is bout to go up my bum..."there's no way that's going up it?" NO ENGLISH! BALLS...but they know what i'm saying and have a right ol giggle...'funny Westerner"...hmmmm 200bpm. Sleepy time now. Knees up to my chest start counting. I have no idea how far I get.

My next memory is hazy. It consists of two Korean  nurses holding my shoulders down I presume telling me to 'chill the fuck out and lie down'. I have a vague memory of just wanting to get up and go to the loo. They eventually get me to lie back down and I'm out for the count. No idea how long. 

I regain consciousness to find myself still having the urge to purge. So I try to get up and Bambi legs kick in. The same two nurses come over and help me out. Of course the funny thing is that there is not a morsel of anything inside my intestines. But I go to the loo anyway and let out a massive fart. With the amount of air up there i'm surprised I didn't fly away. It's at this point I realise what damage 'the python' has done to my poor little anus....pain didn't really come close to how I felt..."dear God I need to lie down" Back on the bed and out for another nap.

I regain consciousness this time in what seem to be normality. Under the watchful eye of one of the nurses place my legs off the bed and successfully stand up unaided. Apparently this is all that is required for you to be discharged. So, with Jun, off to see the doctor. for my results. It took maybe 3 or 4 steps to realise that I was in quite a lot of pain. My anus was in Meltdown...what on earth did they put up there. My guts are screaming out to me to be cured by some kind of narcotic that would make everything ok. But it never comes. And not only that but I had to wait 20 minutes to see the doc. That was a long 20 mins. The doc says he has good news...."I didn't find anything in there". My immediate reaction was to think "then why did you send an aircraft carrier up my arse you putts??!!" In hindsight thought I am happy there is nothing majorly wrong going on down there. 

"So it is my opinion that you have IBS", was the next thing out of his mouth. BALLS. He then has what felt like an hour long conversation with my co teacher about my meds and all I can think of is "oh god my arse hurts"... I spend the next 15 hours in pretty much anal agony watching shit on tv and napping the pain away.

I do not know how gay men go through this for pleasure. Or how women agree to let scumbag men put their whatsits into option B... Mine is now purely an exit only orifice. 

This pretty much takes us up to the present day (21 April) where I am slowly feeling better and trying to watch my diet. 

More to follow I guess