Gut Rumbles
 

March 29, 2006

recouperation

I once thought that the Chevy Impala that I inherited from Mama was a smooth-riding car. I was mistaken. After going to the doctor for my post-surgical follow-up visit, I am thoroughly convinced that the goddam car rides like a pulpwood truck and it can find every bump in the road from Rincon to Savannah, no matter how hard the driver tries to avoid them.

That trip to town and back beat the shit out of me.

But I DID get my staples removed and the doctor said that I was healing nicely. A nurse took a sample of my blood to check for deadly, flesh-eating bacteria. I am NOT making that up. The doc told me that the kind of ulcer I had, which ate clean through my duodenum, usually is caused by a hostile bacteria in the stomach. If I've got it, they want to de-worm me to get rid of it. I'm all for that idea if it'll keep me from another trip to the hospital. I'll drink cod liver oil AND castor oil if it keeps me from being cut again.

I bitched and moaned about being in a lot of pain, but the doctor was unimpressed. He asked me what the hell I EXPECTED, considering the fact that I dumped raw stomach acid into my abdominal cavity for quite a while before he plugged the leak. I was not only half-assed when I arrived at the hospital--- I was half-digested internally, too. That shit is supposed to hurt.

Evidentally, based on how I feel, it's doing what it is supposed to do, because it hurts like hell. The doc gave me a refill on my pain medication and ran me off. I went home, took two pills and ate a couple of cherry popcicles; then, I fell asleep on the couch and slept for 14 hours. I enjoyed that sleep so much that I kept it up almost all day and all night yesterday, too. I think I've been awake for about 12 of the last 48 hours and asleep the rest of the time.

I feel better today. I ain't ready for any tree-climbing or sport-fucking just yet, but I'm getting there. The doc said that I'll need four to six weeks to get halfway back to normal and I'm at two weeks and three days right now. That's halfway to halfway, isn't it? More or less? I mean, this is the point where things start getting BETTER every day and I don't have any more relapses, right?

Besides--- I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I have a garden to plant before I miss the weather. Hell, I haven't even been in my hot tub this month. That's enough fucking around. I gotta get well.

Before I forget--- thanks to everyone who offered to come by and "take care" of me during my recouperation. I'll repeat what I said when you offered the favor: Thanks, but NO THANKS. You don't WANT to be near me when I'm ailing. I am a pitiful, whining, obnoxious patient who could make YOU feel miserable after an hour of being around me, and make you want to KILL me after three hours.

No, I prefer to recover on my own. I've got enough enemies already without creating new ones right now. Besides, I don't want to survive this surgery just to end up planted on a testicle farm by a disgruntled nurse. All things considered, I'm better off alone.

At least I posted something today.

Comments

Damn, you're a hard sumbitch to kill!

Posted by: Cythen on March 29, 2006 01:14 PM

Did ya give up smoking yet?

Posted by: jamesoldguy on March 29, 2006 01:18 PM

Be well,

Posted by: Fausta on March 29, 2006 01:24 PM

Sorry but I had to laugh at the Impala not being a "smooth riding car". I remember all to well my trip home from the hosipital after abdominal surgery and it's not something that I ever want to experience again.
Get well . Thinking of you.
Dawn

Posted by: Dawn on March 29, 2006 01:32 PM

When I was in labor with my daughter many moons ago, I remember saying to my hubby all the way to hospital........."hurry up!" "slow down!" "hurry up!" "slow down!" I wanted to get to the hospital in a hurry, but the bumps hurt as well. Sometimes, there's just no such thing as a smooth ride, no matter what kind of vehicle you're in.

Posted by: Tessa on March 29, 2006 01:46 PM

Glad you are feeling better, now I can quit wanting to smother you!

Posted by: livey on March 29, 2006 03:17 PM

Yeah! That flesh-eating stuff's called Helicobacter Pylorii. It's shaped like a corkscrew and it's hell on the stomach.

I saw a thing about it on TV years ago. This doctor in Australia had a theory that stomach ulcers were caused by bacteria in the stomach. Everyone laughed him out of the room. Destroyed his reputation.

So the doc, to prove his point, drank a culture of live H. Pylorii. He intended to GIVE HIMSELF A STOMACH ULCER. But the stuff made him so sick he couldn't stand it, so he took antibiotics before he got the full-on ulcer.

Some time later, the medical community figured out he was right, all along. Which meant a lot of patients had died or suffered horribly for years, who could have been cured with a cheap course of antibiotics. Wow.

Posted by: dipnut on March 29, 2006 04:09 PM

Oh wow. I just looked it up. That doctor's name was Barry Marshall. He did his "experiment" in 1985. He won a Nobel Prize for it, just last year.

Posted by: dipnut on March 29, 2006 04:21 PM

I am glad you're halfway to halfway. I can relate to being a baby while sick. Maybe it's an Aquarian thing. I usually have a walkie talkie with me when I'm sick so I can reach someone with my requests from quarantine.

Posted by: Renee on March 29, 2006 05:55 PM

Damn! There's that cowboy!

Posted by: marcl on March 29, 2006 09:01 PM

Your mention of "testicle farm" reminded me of this.

Q: What do you call a dog with no hind legs and steel testicles?

A: Old Sparkey

Posted by: Ol' Lurker on March 29, 2006 11:06 PM

Dipnut's right -- my grandfather died of stomach cancer after having ulcers most of his life, and I think if they'd known about pylorii back then they could have spared him a lot of suffering and maybe kept him alive some more years.

Posted by: McGehee on March 30, 2006 09:52 AM

Old Sparkey

Hey, I knew a kid had a dog like that. Every day he'd take the ol' mutt out for a drag.

Posted by: McGehee on March 30, 2006 09:53 AM
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