Oy to the World

Friends, I have returned! Did you miss my bodily witticisms?

Last Friday's procedure went off without a hitch, thank goodness. I feel quite happy to have the explorations over and done with. I was under for about an hour. The last thing I remember is the nice Lebanese anesthesiologist talking about scuba diving in the Red Sea and coming at me with a big syringe and then...nothing.


I came to as a nurse beckoned me toward the light, offering juice or water. But no, no: I needed to poop and I announced it suddenly, surprised at my own consciousness. She laughed at me and said, "I highly doubt that. It's the pressure but go on and pass that gas." No, lady. I NEED TO POOP. She then offered to walk me to the bathroom. In fact, I did leave a little souvenir in the toilet but it wasn't very remarkable. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was air. Even still...the urge did exist and no amount of wind-breaking was going to trick my mind into thinking it was just CO2 buildup!

Three biopsies and a few samples worse for wear, I left that office around noon. By Saturday evening I was recovering nicely. I even managed to eat some solid food after essentially 48 hours of clear liquids. [On a side note: I now understand the healing power of the cleanse. Granted Gwyneth's are not pre-op but still, they are quite effective in purging toxins of all kinds with a force to rival Victoria Falls. Remind me to do one before my next Red Carpet event.]

Things I learned:

*will never drink blue Gatorade again. I don't care if I'm in a fall-out shelter (a la The Road) and it's the last beverage on earth: after 2, 32oz bottles of it I would rather die dehydrated and happy than choke that nasty-ass syrup down.

*Miralax, when consumed by the bottle, if the equivalent of a fancy spa enema (for the low cost of $9.87) Frugal!

*4 Dulcolax pills + preexisting diarrhea = hilarity

*Italian Ice is gluten free

*White cranberry juice tastes nothing like red cranberry juice

*Just how many times can you go to the bathroom in a day? Survey says: 16.


Fun times at Digestive Healthcare Center. 9/10 on Trip Advisor.com.

So now we wait. And wait. And - oh yeah - if the invasion of my lower GI tract wasn't enough excitement for the week, how about a "full stool workup" to go along with that? Sign me up!

Three days of pinching one off in a plastic bathroom cup just strips the romance away. There's no going back when you become that intimately acquainted with your own waste, siphoning it off with little plastic spatulas into vials full of indeterminate, funeral-home-smelling liquids with tiny, illegible labels that appear to be screaming at you in Spanish (don't put it in your eye? what the hell? it's a TURD, for crissakes. Why would you want that anywhere near your ojos?)

The last day - the one that really upped the ante with four vials instead of three - was the day I couldn't bring myself to move, natch. So I got up extra early the following morning, ate some extra fiber, drank some hot coffee and did my Pilates tape. Yep. That did the trick, all right. One epic, healthy sample, fresh from the pipes!

I brought the nice Quest technician a neatly organized Starbucks bag full of meticulously shaken and stirred collectibles from the mixed up bowels of yours truly. They are "growing" as I type this so if any little larvae pop up in the next week, I'll let you know!

Stay tuned and happy eating!

xoxo,
GG