MY ASS IS KILLING ME!!!

The following post will not be for the faint of heart, squeamish or children under 13 without an adult. You continue to read at your own risk.

since high school I have been plagued with various gastrointestinal problems ranging from the very minor (constipation) to the very serious (Barrett's esophagus). Because of our unfortunate family history with these diseases, we have all been appropriately concerned. I finally found a gastro doctor in Atlanta who is not only amazing, but takes it as her personal responsibility that I never develop anything more serious than I already have. She is fabulous and I can't say enough good things about her. Her name is Dr. Agnes Han.

Because of Dr. Han's vigilante approach to my care, she expects me to go for what I like to call my end to end flossing (endoscopy and colonoscopy) yearly. I get a year or two off for good behavior (a.k.a. they don't find anything) from the endoscopy sometimes. Of course the endoscopy isn't what I hate, it's the colonoscopy that I have to endure every year, for all eternity.

It must have been 2 years ago when I finally freaked out on Atilla the Han and told her that if she ever wanted to see up my ASS again, she was going to have to find a better way to administer my pre-screening drugs. I don't know if any of you have had to go through this, and if you do I am sure you are shuddering just at the thought of having to drink that horrible stuff.
Well sufferer no more. Now you can take pills! 40 pills. 40 of the largest horse pills you have ever seen and at 15 minute intervals beginning at 3pm in the afternoon. Obviously this is not for anyone who has any kind of gag reflex.

The test itself isn't usually so bad. They give you really nice drugs and if your like me sometimes they give you extra so you stop talking. :) Then afterwards your wheeled into the recovery room where there are all the other people who had the test before you. There are curtains so you can't see anyone else and you are supposed to expel any gas you have. This is the best part. Jason and I sit there in absolute hysterics not only rating my farts on a 1 thru 10 on the Richter scale, but everybody else's too. Fun times.

Anyway, my appointment to schedule my yearly colonoscopy was in April, however while I was there we got a little sidetracked by the lump in my breast. Dr. Han was the one who felt it first and then went and picked up the phone and called her friend across the street to get me in to see them that afternoon. The rest is history. But, I thought I was going to get a little reprieve from my colonoscopy for 2005. Not to be.

Since I was a little girl (my mother has assured me that I have been this was since diapers), my poos have been anywhere from the size of a grapefruit to the size of a baseball bat, and all sizes and consistencies in between. Never have I had such problems than I have since I've started chemo. When you do chemo there is a great risk for constipation or diarrhea. Luckily I have had neither. What I have had is some rectal bleeding, which has been getting progressively worse, and worse and worse. The thing is, I knew that if I ended up in Dr. Han's office I would end up having to schedule a colonoscopy.

After my oncologists repertoire of healing techniques was expended (I am the only adult in the universe with two types of diaper rash cream in my bathroom and no children), she recommended that I see Dr. Han. I called her office first explaining to the nurse what was going on but that I really didn't want to be seen. I knew it wasn't internal or external hemorrhoids (I'll explain that another time), but something I had suffered with in the past before-anal fissures. ASS CUTS to be blunt. So the nurse spoke with Dr. Han and prescribed some lovely medications that are to go up my ASS. Of course they all have explicit directions such as "Apply rectally 4 times a day" with no applicators. My hands and my butt have never felt so violated in their lives. And of course it's no working. But it burns like a mother f!@#@!#%$!er.

I continue to bleed and am getting scared enough that I call Dr. Hans office waving the white flag of surrender and decide I need to be seen up close in personal. Now I haven't seen Dr. Han since April and since I basically feel like she saved my life, the reunion is a bit emotional. Then I remember what I'm here for and curl up on the table as close to the wall as possible. After much chatting and banter, she has me roll over fetal style and give me an exam. Did I mention my mother was there? She confirms the diagnosis of anal fissures and then shares with me that another one of her patients said having anal fissures was like giving birth to a porcupine every time you go to the bathroom. I couldn't have said it better myself. She did tell me that it could require surgery if they did not heal up but that she was going to prescribe a whole host of medications before we got that far. One antibiotic and 3 rectal medications later, she then whips out my chart and says, "When was your last colonoscopy?". I sob, I plead, I say, " They gave me a whole battery of tests before I started chemo. They would have caught anything! They were able to tell me I had a scar on my lung from when I had pneumonia and that I had a ruptured ovarian cyst. Surely they would be able to tell if there was anything in my colon!" "Rubbish, " she said, " That would only detect anything in a solid organ. Your colon and small intestines are hollow organs. " Jesus shit balls! "Well ", I said almost triumphantly, " I am on Warfarin so I CAN'T HAVE a colonoscopy until I go off of it which isn't until I get my port out so there." Ha! I win! "Well", she said "As soon as you are off of it, we need to schedule one". Damn.

Well, I'm home now. Violating myself on a regular basis. My ASS just kills. The new medications did not come with any more explicit directions except "Take orally" or "Apply rectally" but at least one of them came with an applicator. One of the rectal medications was nitroglycerine which within ten minutes sent me into the worst headache of my life. Like an axe had been cleaved into the middle of my forehead. When I called the doctors office the next day, Dr. Hans recommendation was to take Tylenol. I hate her. :)

How one little poop chute can cause so many problems, I don't know. The bleeding has slowed down but it still feels like I am giving birth to porcupines on a regular basis. We will see. We will see.