kjpepper | Upper GI with SB series

So when my GI ordered and "Upper GI with SB series" for me, I didn't know jack about what I was getting into. (It sounds like some super souped up model of european luxury car, perhaps a BMW.) Turns out it's a series of x-rays taken from throat to large intestine, which requires the ingestion of "contrast media," aka, barium sulfate, which is this white chalky nastiness that tastes like overthickened pepto-bismol. I'm now waiting for about a quart and change of barium sulfate (NOT barium acetate... want some curry? no reason...) to work it's way through my system. glargh.

So I spent my morning in hospital johnnies (the ultimate in wash and wear cotton haute couture) drinking vileness, and periodically being told to hop on tables that rotated from upright to reclined and back around (remember that scene in Silence of the Lambs where Hannibal Lecter's wearing the hockey mask and they've got hims strapped to a table and he just kind of rises into frame and looks scary? yeah I felt like that.) and having my insides photographed with large-ass noisy machines that would probably make normal people claustrophobic. It was funny... I had a lot of time to lie around and think about how you can have the most wonderful support system ever, but when it comes to the really scary shit in life, you're on your own. There's a very alone feeling about being in a dimly lit room having an x-ray taken... I mean, even the tech leaves cause of y'know, radiation stuff. Hmm, I wonder what my reading on a gigercounter would be right now. But yeah.

Anyway. The procedure wasn't bad. just long. And the barium was nasty. And there was a lot of downtime in the middle and nothing to read but Readers Digest (*shudder*), so since I had a corridor to myself I practiced a couple of moves from belly dance class last night. Nothing sexier than doing hip circles in hospital johnnies. :)

The upshot of it all? Everything's showing up as normal. I mean that's technically good news, but it doesn't really get me any closer to figuring out what the hell's been wrong with me since November. And I kinda feel a little on the cheated... With all the machines and the barium and the no breakfast and the assininity, you kinda want something a little less anticlimactic than a "Looks like you're all set. You can go home now." :P Course, I don't think it was ever my upper GI that was the problem, but still. I mean if I have to poop in glow-under-blacklight bright white for the rest of today, I'd like something to show for it.

well, one down. One colonoscopy to go. :P