npi = no pun intended

It’s time to set the record straight. Many of you who see me often probably have noticed that I’ve been somewhat subdued lately (which, for me, is one step above a coma). I know there are rumors flying around about why, so here it is, from the horse’s mouth.

If you have a weak stomach or don’t want to read anything gross and disgusting, STOP READING NOW, DELETE THIS MESSAGE, and you will sleep better tonight.

Without going into too much detail, I’ve been having some digestive problems. Not the ordinary “Boy, I wish I hadn’t eaten that burrito”, but something more intense and persistent with bleeding that started at 2 AM the day of the Bayshore Marathon (Saturday of Memorial Day weekend). I didn’t tell anyone I was having problems because I thought they would pass (npi), but they got worse.

I finally went to the doctor on June 22nd. O.K. I told everyone I was going (npi) because of my ankle problem, but that wasn’t really true, although I did tell him it was sore (the ankle, not my ….Oh, never mind). I knew I was in for a not so pleasant exam and I was right. The digital exam was a piece of cake compared to the contraption he used to look farther than any human should ever see.

I was given two specimen containers to take stool samples to the lab. Luckily I had a meeting in Lansing the next day so I dropped them off while most everyone was sleeping. But that’s not the end (npi) of it. He asked me to keep track of, and write down, all of my bowel movements for the next week including date, time, consistency, and other things too gross to mention. Of course, being the anal (npi) person that I am, I did it on an excel spreadsheet. I titled it “The Tales of the Turds” or, subtitled, “What a Bunch of Crap”.

I had some trouble with the consistency descriptions, but settled on terms like Au Jus, Mashed Potatoes Without Lumps, Mashed Potatoes With Lumps, Hot Chocolate With One Brown Marshmallow…. O.K. You get the picture. Dr. Weatherhead knew I was in a lot of discomfort, but could tell my sense of humor hadn’t been affected.

By the next appointment, things had gotten worse. Dr. Weatherhead scheduled me for a CT scan and gave me another container for a stool sample. This time I borrowed the Baptist Church Bus, wore a fedora hat, put on a trenchcoat, donned a fake beard and sunglasses and dropped off the sample. Even at that people know who you are and, since you are carrying a sample wrapped in a grocery sack, know it’s either a stool sample or a semen sample. And, odds are, there aren’t many 58 year old men carrying semen samples to the lab.

I had to keep track of BMs for a second week and did it the same way. This one was titled “The Fecal Matrix Revisited” or, subtitled, “Some Turds Roll Downhill Faster Than Others” (a takeoff on the saying *%#@ Flows Downhill).

At the next doctors appointment I knew what was coming. The stool samples and CT scan eliminated a lot of really bad things, but didn’t identify what was causing the problems, so he ordered a Colonoscopy. The preparation the day before, as many of you know, is no fun at all. The procedure itself is relatively straight-forward but I have a complaint about the sedation. They use Versed (sp) which keeps you conscious but you forget everything. WRONG!! I was in so much pain with intestinal cramping that inflating me with air was excruciating and I do remember it.

The other complaint is that, when the doctor comes out and tells you what he found, you do forget that part, so I’m passing (npi) the results on by way of Jean, a not so detail oriented person. She said that he said I had “a full blown case of ulcerative colitis”. I’m not going into what that really is. If you wonder, ask Diane or look it up on http://www.webmd.com/ . Dr. Papp Jr. (next time it’s my turn to bring the candles, flowers and a bottle of wine) prescribed two new medications, much stronger than the ones I had been taking.

With one I take three capsules three times a day (9 pills total) with 12 refills printed on the prescription bottle. With the other, I’m still trying to figure out the best way to take it. The directions say, before retiring (too late for me…I retired three years ago), start out with your knees, head and forearms on the floor, reach around, insert the applicator tip and squeeze out the contents. Hold that position for 30 minutes to allow the solution to disperse and try to retain it all night. (If picturing that in your mind doesn’t cause nightmares, I don’t know what will). I have 28 of those with 4 refills.

So with all those refills, it sounds like this won’t be a quick recovery. The worst part of the whole thing is that, on the discharge instruction sheet, someone wrote, as a joke I’m sure, “No Swimming San Fran Bay At This Point”. Jean says Dr. Papp said that several times, but I don’t believe it. He’s really a nice guy and wouldn’t do that to me. He must have coerced that information from me while I was under sedation with my butt pointed toward him and him holding a 10 foot flexible tube.  Jean says that Dr. Papp is afraid of cramping and dehydration due to the inability to absorb fluids until this thing is under control.

On the one hand I argue that I’ve been swimming a mile and a half three days a week for quite a while and this should be no different. But then I recall the story of Chris Legh, a multiple Ironman Triathlon winner, who lost part of his colon due to dehydration during a race. Then I think maybe doctors do know better than we do and it isn’t worth the risk. We’ll see.

So there you have it. The End (npi).

Let’s get all the jokes out of the way now like:

Your problems are all behind you now.

Everything comes out in the end.

All bad things will pass.

After all those tests, the doctors finally got to the bottom of the problem.

No, I don’t want to talk about it so don’t ask. And please don’t look at me with that Cheshire Cat smile. Something tells me my history of including many of you in my e-mails against your will is coming back to bite me in the butt (pun intended).

Just (I’m Getting Tired of This Crap) Jack