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railentheAnd now you're going to read this in his voice doing his gravelly a.
Sphincter of Oddi dysfunction.
And just because, you should hear the rest as Bertie Wooster.
The liver has been giving me problems for a while. So many problems it's been jumping around and kicking my kidney's ass. I've lost even more weight—if this keeps up, I'm going to be a nice svelte 135 pounds by January—
Which, mind you, we don't want, because I'm not trying to lose weight—
So we've been doing scans and tests and blood work and labs and scans and tests and labs and blood work and tests and blood work because the scans keep coming up normal and the blood work keeps coming up completely damn fucky and it gets worse every time they check it—in fact, they're gonna check for hepatitis again. So many goddamn liver panels, you'd think I drank eight hard drinks a day with a molly chaser.
(Not the case on either. Kids, don't do the thing.)
"So the scans are back normal."
I'm so sore and in enough pain I can't even manage a "Bullshit."
"But here's the thing."
"Henh?"
One of those display things on a string with a ring gets pulled down. Those still exist? I think in passing as I look at a diagram of a liver.
"So this is a liver, and a gall bladder, and a pancreas, and this is the bile duct that on your MRI was completely blown out too large—"
"I remember that," I mumble. "What did I do?"
"REALLY bad luck. There's a muscle here that's supposed to clam it down a bit so it doesn't stay blown open like this and keep flooding everything with way more everything than is needed. And yours is not working."
"Well, crap."
I'm then informed in great detail about the ultrasound I'm going to need, with the knockout gas and needles, a scope with an ultrasound probe, a potential biopsy, and a whole lot of "do not eat" beforehand. If it's confirmed to b this thing, I'm going to need surgery: the offending muscle is literally clipped and then yanked into a size that should function properly.
"There's one more thing I gotta test."
And I'm ordered onto a table where I am literally poked and prodded, mostly in the area of the painful kidney, and then in the aggravated zone of the liver. I'd love to shout "DON'T DO THE THING" but all I can manage is a tiny "ow ow ow nooooo."
"There are the two sites to confirm, but we still have to do the scope to confirm."
So we've gotten this far. It's definitely the liver, and we have to do something about it before things get really bad. But the problem is the exploratory procedure isn't until February and things are already bad.
Today when I went grocery shopping, my food stamps were missing. A cryptic letter from a few weeks ago doesn't help me understand what is going on. Either they don't come until the middle of the month, or they are not happening at all. With the bills and rent and all, I can barely afford to sacrifice the money earmarked for that to the bills.
…welcome to the holiday season right?
Sphincter of Oddi dysfunction.
And just because, you should hear the rest as Bertie Wooster.
The liver has been giving me problems for a while. So many problems it's been jumping around and kicking my kidney's ass. I've lost even more weight—if this keeps up, I'm going to be a nice svelte 135 pounds by January—
Which, mind you, we don't want, because I'm not trying to lose weight—
So we've been doing scans and tests and blood work and labs and scans and tests and labs and blood work and tests and blood work because the scans keep coming up normal and the blood work keeps coming up completely damn fucky and it gets worse every time they check it—in fact, they're gonna check for hepatitis again. So many goddamn liver panels, you'd think I drank eight hard drinks a day with a molly chaser.
(Not the case on either. Kids, don't do the thing.)
"So the scans are back normal."
I'm so sore and in enough pain I can't even manage a "Bullshit."
"But here's the thing."
"Henh?"
One of those display things on a string with a ring gets pulled down. Those still exist? I think in passing as I look at a diagram of a liver.
"So this is a liver, and a gall bladder, and a pancreas, and this is the bile duct that on your MRI was completely blown out too large—"
"I remember that," I mumble. "What did I do?"
"REALLY bad luck. There's a muscle here that's supposed to clam it down a bit so it doesn't stay blown open like this and keep flooding everything with way more everything than is needed. And yours is not working."
"Well, crap."
I'm then informed in great detail about the ultrasound I'm going to need, with the knockout gas and needles, a scope with an ultrasound probe, a potential biopsy, and a whole lot of "do not eat" beforehand. If it's confirmed to b this thing, I'm going to need surgery: the offending muscle is literally clipped and then yanked into a size that should function properly.
"There's one more thing I gotta test."
And I'm ordered onto a table where I am literally poked and prodded, mostly in the area of the painful kidney, and then in the aggravated zone of the liver. I'd love to shout "DON'T DO THE THING" but all I can manage is a tiny "ow ow ow nooooo."
"There are the two sites to confirm, but we still have to do the scope to confirm."
So we've gotten this far. It's definitely the liver, and we have to do something about it before things get really bad. But the problem is the exploratory procedure isn't until February and things are already bad.
Today when I went grocery shopping, my food stamps were missing. A cryptic letter from a few weeks ago doesn't help me understand what is going on. Either they don't come until the middle of the month, or they are not happening at all. With the bills and rent and all, I can barely afford to sacrifice the money earmarked for that to the bills.
…welcome to the holiday season right?
no subject
Date: 2015-12-20 03:25 am (UTC)I'm just a rookie here, but I think I know a little something. Nobody does low-ground shots of terrain, for instance, so I decided to take a low-ground shot here. Blown up THIS big the reds are a LITTLE overdithered, but at the proper size it's flawless.
Trunk and leaves