On July 4th (no fireworks that day, sorry I'm Canadian) I finally got around to my 2nd colonoscopy (I have them done due to my Dad having colon cancer). My previous one that was done back in Quebec was an easy process, with doing that usual day before clean out, liquid diet (yes, beer counts as it’s a clear liquid). When it was done (I wasn't on the pump then just my "poor man's pump" ), I was hooked up to an IV with a slow drip of insulin, no sedation, and got to watch the whole show of my squeaky clean A-hole on a screen. Easy peasy – though they wouldn’t give me a copy of the video to share with friends on the big screen as we all ate popcorn! I remember being so hungry, that a greasy breakfast was a must for me, and I was able to resume back to work the next day.
When I’d left Quebec last summer, I was still waiting to be called up for my 2nd colonoscopy which already was going into year 3. Ontario seems to be alot better with wait times as I was referred after going to a local walk-in clinic. Night and day over Quebec health care system where the waiting game can go on for years.
This time, totally different, starting with the prep the day before. It was a day of not being actually able to work, despite sitting on my behind for the majority of one of my jobs I do. Perhaps due to being a wee bit younger last time, what I'd used to "process" the goop out of me, who knows. All I could do the day before was be a slug and I now understand why people don't like the prep bit - I feel for you all now.
The other difference this time, I was to be sedated aka " conscious sedation ". I was told that I could not wear my insulin pump for this 10 minute procedure – but to give ½ my usual dose that AM (this was stated on the hospital form – obviously insulin pumps haven’t been updated onto the form). I had planned on just giving a unit of rapid insulin in my pump, and then disengaging, but with some of the comments on my Facebook posts of how they'd kept them on during this procedure, I convinced the RN that by lowering my basal rate of my pump by 50% things would all be good. I decided at the last minute though, with my blood sugar showing 7.1 mmol/dl / 128 mg/dl – that I’d leave it be, and not reduce the basal.
I didn’t tell them this …
After a weigh in, that I insisted on them doing since they asked me what my weight was, and I told them I really didn’t know (they wanted me to guess … it’s like … WTF?). I found I'd lost 15 pounds (maybe the previous day of fasting helped shed some?) - and now I understand why my pants keep on falling down. I figured the amount of sedation would be based on my weight (I have later found out since, that there is a limit to how much they give a patient (Versed and Fentanyl were used on me).
Then came the " let’s find a juicy vein ". Two RN's tried to find one in my forearm (and they're commenting on how tough my skin is … hello … diabetic of ½ a century … we have tough skin). They give up despite my saying my hand is the best bet but the clock is ticking for the next patient to be processed and they're understaffed.
So, it’s wheel the patient, moi, into the OR. Where the doctor takes over in the game of finding a vein in my hand, and even better, he uses a butterfly needle, which just glides into that juicy plump vein in my hand (I sound like a junkie don’t I? LOL). Then its lights out, night night Pussy Cat … despite being told by RN that I would be awake during the procedure. No watching the screen like the classic 1960's movie The Fantastic Voyage ... I'm out ... cold ... no seeing the bowels of the Earth.
I awoke, wondering WTF, ½ an hour had passed since being wheeled in, and I was being asked if I wanted any biscuits and water. It’s like, yes please. Sadly, within 5 minutes, I was trying to be polite about requesting a … fetch me a bucket Garcon … and just about hopped out of the bed to go searching. At that point, after the hurl session or two, the RN brought me my clothing and I wobbly got dressed, texted my DH to come and fetch me. I'm still amazed how I managed to get myself out the right door to where he picked me up, I was that out of it and wondered why no one was asking if I needed a wheel chair. For the next 3 days that was how I was, the effects of the sedation making me feel like I was having a hangover from Hell going between hurling, coldness, nonstop sleeping, and eating was a chore, but wait … this isn’t the end of the story yet of my anal probe.
Are you wondering about the highlighted bit above “I didn’t tell them this …”?
Stay tuned for the 2nd part of this blog, and be ready to be as surprised as I was …
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