Months later

It was pointed out to me that I haven't blogged for some time. This is true. There have been many subjects I could have blogged about. My eldest daughter recently became married and I could write about how it was raining on her wedding day and how I fell out of my husband's SUV fully donned in my Mother of the Bride gown right unto my knees into a puddle while my cell phone went flying out of my hand hitting yet another puddle and the battery going one way out of the phone and the back of the phone going another. And how my husband drove away to pick up other guests and I am left behind with a wet soiled gown without a cell phone. Yeah, I could write about that.

Or I could write about how a co-worker actually said NO to the CEO when he asked her to do a certain job for him. I truly didn't know it was possible to say NO to doing something the big wig wants you to do without getting fired! Learn something new every day.

I suppose I could write about how I went to LaCrosse to meet my sister for a fun filled Girls Only weekend and how we happened to down a bottle of merlot wine actually called "Middle Sister Wine."

But instead I'm going to write about a lump in my abdomen. Because I am noticing that the older I get, the more I enjoy talking about diseases, illnesses and operations. That must be the first sign of being older than dirt. Talking about bodily functions and what your body can't do anymore.

During a yearly physical, I told my doctor that I have a lump in my abdomen. Above the belly button, right in the center of my gutt. My doctor felt my lump and said "We gotta do some tests." I never liked tests in school and that opinion hasn't changed post-school.

"I'm going to schedule you for a CT scan with contrast."

I say "Is this the test where I have to drink barium?"

"Yes, and I apologize ahead of time for that. Make sure you drink the barium cold. It's more bearable."

Ok, so these statements from my doctor were not encouraging. The barium must be as horrid as the colon cleanser. I was not looking forward to this "drink of necessity."

I was told to drink it before going to bed. I've heard this before. With the colon concoction. Will I need to stay by a toilet? Will there be multiple explosions coming from my behind??

And then to drink another 8 oz in the morning. Again, been there, done that.

I go online to research what other people are saying about the barium drink before a CT Scan. It is not favorable. "Worst taste E V E R!" "Rather drink urine than drink barium again." This isn't sounding very yummy.

I wait all day until 9:45pm and then walked into the kitchen to drink the fruit of satan. I am prepared. I am ready. Bring it on.

Remembering the doc said to "shake it well" and "drink what your stomach will tolerate at a time." I am only pouring 1/2 the bottle into a glass. I could have drunk it out of the container, but I am a lady and I will use a glass to drink this poision.

And then I chug. Down down down. Wait! This stuff really isn't that bad! And I was thirsty so it went down pretty well! It tastes like Pepto Bismo. Just a little chaulky. I pour the rest of the bottle in the glass and I finish off the drink.

Hmmmm. Now what? Do I wait til I feel that nagging cramping in my stomach? Should I stay near the toilet? I wait a little while and nothing... Heck, may as well go to bed!

Quiet night. No explosions.

The next morning I down the second bottle of barium juice. And I'm off to the radiology department to be scanned.

I give the receptionist my driver's license and health insurance card. I hear the woman behind the receptionist say "The photo on the license doesn't look like the woman who handed it to you." Not what I wanted to hear. I ask "Is there a problem?" The receptionist mutters to the other woman, "I don't ask questions. I just take the license and make a copy of it." The receptionist hands back my license and I look at the photo. Ok, so it's a LITTLE different. My hair is more blonde in the photo and I'm not wearing glasses and I was 25 lbs lighter.

I was given a lovely hospital bracelet and told to "wait over there." One does not argue with a health care receptionist because she has the power to put your name at the bottom of the waiting list, so I went "over there" and sat down.

Soon my name was called. "Jolene Win..... pause." Yup, that's me!

Now I had researched online what was going to go on during my CT scan. I would be asked to drink yet another delicious glass of barium, told to put on a hospital gown and would be put on a flat table to be inserted into the big circle called the CT Scan.

Sure enough. I am given another glass of barium. The tech says "I know it seems like a lot of barium, but the more you can keep in your stomach, the better the images. I know that stuff tastes awful." I drink the juice in one gulp.

I am waiting for my hospital gown wondering where I will be sent to change into the gown. I see no bathroom, no dressing room. I do see the big white scanner.

A male tech comes in and tells me to hop on the table and we'll begin the scan. NO NO NO. I am still dressed!! This isn't proper procedure!! I need a hospital gown and be told to 'tie it in the back."

The male tech slaps the table and again says "Right here. Lay right here." Ok.

I am now nervous. This isn't going as planned. Something is amiss. The male tech says "I will put a sheet over you and you can unzip your pants and pull them down on your hips."

This was definitely NOT in the online instructions.

But this man had control of the CT buttons and I didn't want to piss him off. We're talking radiation here!!

So I wiggle my pants down and say "I'm good to go!"

The tech shows me two little icons on the scan. "When this icon lights up, you are to hold your breath. When this other icon lights up, release your breath and breathe easily." "Are you ready?"

No... wait. Which one lights up so that I can breathe? How long do I have to hold my breath?

Too late. Tech Boy is moving the table under the CT scan and I hear a mature man saying "Hold your breath NOW." I am not arguing. I am holding.

Same voice "Breathe normal NOW." I am breathing.

I figure we are done. The tech says "Ok, I was just getting the scan calculated. We will now put the contrast into your vein and begin the testing."

Again, NOT on the online instructions. I didn't know there was going to be a pre-test or an IV!!

The tech did a fab job getting the IV in and says "You will feel warm. And you will feel like you are urinating. But you are not peeing." Good to know....

"You will feel heat in your thyroid." I was too busy concentrating on my breathing that I didn't want to tell Tech Boy that I don't have a thyroid. Details....

OMG. I feel like I'm peeing!! What IS that??

"You will feel like you have to urinate now." YES!! "This will go away in about 15 seconds." I begin to count.

"I'm going to move the table under the scan. Listen to the voice."

"Hold your breath. Breathe. Hold your breath. Breathe." Table is moving in and out. I think to myself should I hold my breath by sucking in my stomach? Or puff out the stomach and hold. What if I can't hold it for as long as I'm suppose to. PRESSURE.

"Ok! All Done!"

What What?? Should I be breathing now?

Tech boy tells me to "zip up." And that I should drink alot of water to "flush out the barium. Barium can be like cement."

Enough said. I can't get enough water in me. I am a floating breathing machine. My NP daughter tells me "to eat fiber after the barium treatment. Fiber Fiber Fiber. Water Water Water. " I see a pattern.

Tech boy said I will get the results in the afternoon or next day. I wait. And wait some more and then two days later I call. "Any results yet?" "No and when we get them, we will call YOU." Yikes.

Next day I get the results. Swallow. Breathe. "Nothing significant in the CT scan. Just a thinning of the abdominal wall."

That's it? I drank chaulk, worried, drank enough water for a herd of camels, loss sleep and this is the answer? Nothing significant??

So I'm guessing it's a mass of fat. Just sitting above my belly button reminding me that I am not 21 anymore and I'm not 120 pounds.

I can live with that.