The skewering was scheduled for a Wednesday afternoon at 1. First problem right there. Why 1? Why couldn’t it be like, I dunno, morning!? After Monday night I was not allowed to eat anything. I have my opinions on fasting as a diabetic. It’s not that difficult people. The doc expressed some concern and I literally waved at her and said, It’s fine lady, just FIIINE. Why do people think that us diabetics have to eat all the time? Like eat real food? Like we’ll expire if we don’t EAT? It’s a lie. It’s not true. Not this day’n age with all our fancy insulins. If I go low? I’ll drink juice, I’m allowed liquids.
Something I'd never buy on any other occasion
SO, I had some black coffee on Tuesday morning and started the long day of aches and pains. I took the day off work because I knew there wasn't a hope in hell I could focus on anything. I zipped out to the grocery store in the morning to grab clear drinks, other teas, carbonated water and I even got a couple boxes of lemon lime powerade popsicles which were the bomb.
I took my Lantus as per usual that morning. After all, just because I have diabetes doesn’t mean I can’t FAST!! Was it enjoyable? Hell no. I mean I don’t eat a shit ton to begin with but I also don’t enjoy the aching pain of an empty belly. As per the schedule I was to drink the purging solution at 8pm. Why 8pm?! For all that is holy, why 8pm? I gagged trying to get the entire litre of putrid crap down. It made me nauseous simply because of the horrid taste. Then my belly expanded and HURT A LOT! I waited and waited. Finally at 11pm I found myself sitting on the toilet until midnight. Then again at 1:30am, 4:30am and 6:00am. Couldn’t we have gotten through this during the day when I’d rather be awake? Nothing like a sleep deprived cherry on top of my grumpy sundae. It wasn’t long before I had to start drinking the other litre of vileness followed by more hours trying NOT to shit my pants while running (penguining?) to the toilet. After this I was not allowed to ingest ANYTHING.
By this time I’m pretty darn grumpy. I’ve not had food in 36 hours, my bowels are completely empty and my nerves were shot from the anxiety about the procedure. This is when my bg started to escalate.
My blood sugars were phenom the whole time otherwise! I went a little low a couple times but without having rapid insulin or any food it made diabetes management non-existent. It was like an unintentional day of basal testing and I passed with flying colours! I was absolutely loving it. Maybe I should think about adopting an eating disorder like anorexia…. (guys that was a joke). I also, for my own entertainment, weighed myself before and after “The Great Purge”. I was curious to see how much waste was in me. I’ve never done any sort of cleanse before. Turns out there were 3-4lbs of POOPIES. I had a super flat awesome belly but I knew it was temporary.
My mum was the lucky one to chaperon me. Oh you poor retired fool!
I was lucky enough to get hooked up with this clinic that does ONLY GI stuff. It meant that I was essentially put onto a conveyor belt. Bring patient in where there were 4 beds in total. People were either being wheeled into the procedure room awake and coherent or being wheeled back laying on their side completely sedated with only a paper towel covering their bits. I saw something I can never erase from my memory (sorry old man that was the last one to come out before it was my turn). Well, I guess I have to give up holding onto any amount of decency at this point. I mean, they’re going inside me from both ends.
The nurse comes over to test my BG. She had no idea what she was doing. I say, “I just tested in the elevator and it was 12.2mmol/l (220mg/dl)”. I was uncomfortable being this high but it was better than being low and/or not knowing what would happen if I was sedated. She insisted on getting her own number and TRIED to test my blood but was using one of those stupid Bayer Contour meters and the strip gave an error cuz she moved my finger away too quick. To make her happy I pulled out my meter and gave her another test. 12.3mmol/l.
They wheeled me into the room and I really don’t remember much after that. I remember the oxygen tube up my nose and the familiar nitrous oxide high started (which was AWESOME by the way!). Then an injection of anesthetic which burned like a thousand Lantus shots. Next thing I know I’m farting. Yeah, I know right? I remember thinking, “Oh I’m still in the procedure room so it’s just the docs and nurses.” Nope. I was already back in the recovery area groggy and dizzy as shit while farting up a storm. They expand your insides with air to better see it. The air causes pain so farting was sweet sweet relief. My throat, on the other hand, felt like razor blades. My resting heart rate was something like 57bpm I remember seeing on the monitor.
The doc talked to me quickly once it was over. She said upon initial inspection my insides looked totally normal and that I won’t have biopsy results until May. No initial signs of cancer at least. I asked her about my hiatal hernia (which was discovered many years ago, like 20 years ago) and she gave me a blank stare. Mmmkay, maybe I grew out of it? I gotta say, I was a bit saddened. The whole ordeal was not an easy process. I have been quite ill for a long time and hoping, needing, wanting some sort of “your guts are inflamed” or “your colon looks like hell” or anything that would indicate further problems ergo giving me some sort of direction towards better health.
The rest of the day was terrible. It took a while to get my BG down from the stress and anxiety of the procedure. Farts were NOT to be trusted so I spent a lot of time in the bathroom. I was secretly hoping for the promise of torpedo farts (from Jessie) but mine were too dangerous. I ate a banana and had some glorious coffee after nearly 44 hours of fasting. I quickly learned that hot things burned my esophagus and hard or crunchy foods burned everything else. My throat was scraped and my guts were on fire. For the next 3 days food was the enemy. Everything hurt. It hurt on the way down and then for 3 hours after it burned as it made its way through my upper small intestine. I tried to eat a lot of soft foods but it was difficult. It was also difficult to start eating after such a long fast. I kind of had to ease back into it over the next 4 or 5 days.
Life since then? Same same. Wake up every morning with pain across my whole abdomen. Nauseous all the time. Explosive volatile shits. At least everything is back to normal.