Monday, June 14, 2010

Mmm....Nice and Warm

OK, I promised I'd tell you about my CT scan.  Hey-ey-ey, where do you think you're going?  You get right back here and read about my medical procedure.  I mean it.

Speaking of people going places, don't think I didn't notice that follower leave.  You know who you are.  And you quit following just as I was about to talk about taking pictures of my innards and stuff.  See what happens when you decide you'd rather have a life?  You miss out on DeNae's CT scan adventure.  Let that be a lesson to the rest of you.

Now, as you may recall, my gall bladder divorced me last November.  It was pretty acrimonious; I don't like to talk about it.  As far as I was concerned, things were going just fine.  But apparently gall bladders have "needs" and "problems" with my "commitment issues", and, well, let's just say I hope it's happy with its new life partner.  Seriously, I've totally moved on.

But while we were still co-habitating I had an ultrasound.  And it was the craziest thing:  The ultrasound showed, right there on my pancreas, a silhouette of Elvis, weeping.  I don't know how a silhouette weeps; I'm not a medical professional.

So they sent me for a CT scan, and it turned out it wasn't Elvis at all!  It was Burt Parks, that old guy who sang "There she is, Miss America" for the first hundred years or so that the pageant was televised.  Boy, was that ultrasound technician's face red!  I mean, Burt Parks?  Who gets worked up over Burt Parks?

So everything was declared right as rain, whatever that means, and my gall bladder and I went our separate ways.

Well now it's been seven months, and just when I was starting to move on with my life, maybe begin dating other organs, nothing serious you understand, just meet a spleen for lunch sorta thing, the surgeon decided to dredge it all up again.  "Follow-up" visit, he called it.  I call it a shameless grab for a co-pay, mister.

And before he would see me, I had to have another CT scan, to make sure Burt Parks had vacated my pancreas and my gall bladder hadn't violated the restraining order and grown back.

Ever had a CT scan on your mid-section?  It's very cool.  It's not like that whaddyacallit procedure that they always do on "House", where the patient makes it all the way into the giant tube before their kidneys shut down and they start bleeding from their eyes and Sigourney Weaver bursts out of their chest, and the doctors don't notice right away because they're having some intensely personal discussion along the lines of "what exactly is the point of being bi-sexual?" so the patient is essentially a science fair project by the time the experts join the party.

I know.  I was disappointed, too.

But a CT scan is nonetheless quite cool in its own right.  You lay on this table and this enormous radioactive doughnut dealio either sits still while you and your table move back and forth or else the doughnut moves back and forth while you and the table sit still.  I never worked out what was happening, because right over my head was this little window that had the words, "This is where the laser beams shoot out.  Don't look here.  Ever.  Seriously, stop it.  What the heck are you still looking for?  Never mind. Just forget it. Fry your retinas, see if I care."  So naturally I couldn't take my eyes off the little laser beam window.

Anyway, they took a bunch of pictures with the doughnut, and then one of the technicians came in and said, "OK, for this next part, we have to inject you with this stuff that will either dilate your blood vessels or turn you into a werewolf, depending on what you were reading in the lobby.  Now, you need to know: This stuff will go through your system very quickly.  It will make you warm all over.  And it will give the sensation of your having peed your pants.  It is very important that you understand, regardless of how things feel, as it were, down there, you have not, and I reiterate this most strenuously, in point of actual fact, peed your pants.  Do you grasp what I'm telling you, DeNae?  No pants peeage has occurred."

Well for goodness sake, I'm nearly 46 years old.  I comprehend what the words "You have not peed your pants" mean.  That's the sort of good news women my age look for in fortune cookies.  Yes, you absurdly earnest CT scan technician, I hear you.  Pants.  Unpeed.  Gotcha.

So he pushed the plunger on the syringe, and while the medicine was working its way through the tube and into my IV, he headed back to his buddy in the screening room.

Wow.  That is crazy-bum stuff, let me tell you.  Suddenly, I felt warm all over.  For a second I thought I was growing fur and claws, before I remembered I was doing Sudoku in the waiting room, so, you know, whew. 

And then, I became absolutely, unerringly convinced I had peed my pants.  Oh, I remembered what the technician had said.  But somehow I knew that, beyond all reasonable expectations, my rebellious innards had conspired to make me look stupid and had gone ahead and emptied my bladder right there on the spot.  Hey, I've been pregnant.  I know innards are not above doing stuff like that.

I lay there hoping the techs would notice my plight and bring me a towel or a cyanide capsule or something, but when I overheard one of them say, "Well, it doubles your chances of getting a prom date" I knew I was on my own.

I tried looking for some kind of escape, only to discover that I had spent too much time reading the warning over the laser beam window and was now legally blind.  This was terribly inconvenient, as I wasn't sure how I'd know if the noose I was fashioning out of my hospital gown was going to fit over my head.  "Oh well," I reasoned, "Maybe I can threaten to piddle on the security guard on my way out of the building and he'll shoot me in self defense."

And just as I was about to leap off the table and make my damp and daring dash, the chemical cleared my system, my brain began receiving accurate information again, and it turned out - wait for it - I had not peed my pants!  Honestly, you could have knocked me over with a shovel, I was that surprised.

The technician came in, took out my IV, told me I'd been a great patient, really, we have some lovely parting gifts for you, and sent me on my merry way.  I pulled out the complete wardrobe I'd stuffed into my purse because they hadn't exactly been clear on where I was supposed to store it all, got dressed, and went home.

On the way, I called my husband.  "I just had an awesome CT scan!" I told him.  "No word on whether it's Burt Parks on my pancreas, but the good news is, when the chips are down and it really counts, I still have moderate control of my bladder."

You know, it's that kind of sexy talk that keeps a marriage alive.


Andrea said...

I think I just peed my pants. Thanks for the laugh. I needed it.
Hope your inards are good.

Serene is my name, not my life! said...

I know right! All that talk about peeing your pants had me laughing that I was suddenly unsure of how my post four children bladder was holding up on it's own without chemicals and CT scans.

Love you and glad you're okay!

Cheeseboy said...

Is it weird that this makes me WANT to get a CT scan?

Amber Lynae said...

That is just great. I am glad that you didn't pee your pants. And that you are not a werewolf. I will have to remember that Sudoku is safe waiting room activity before a CT scan.

Garden of Egan said...

Ya know, I've said these same words to patients, "honey it's gonna make you feel like you're peein' your pants but you're not"

Having never had my Bert Parkes CT'd before, I thought I was just sayin' what I was told to say. I never in a million years really believed it. So you're saying it really makes you feel that way? Is that what you are saying?
That is so weird!
That's what I wanna know.
I'm thinking that would be the best gag ever to pull on people. Really.
I mean, go to the class reunion and stare that the cheerleader/homecoming queen/married the basketball star and still looks like a million bucks. You know...the girl you can't stand even after 35 years?
Ya her.
Drop a little something in her pepsi and chaching! She's running outta there screeching like a crazy woman.

It would makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside just thinking about it.

Hope Bert Parkes is somewhere else besides your innards.

Kazzy said...

I wonder if Burt needs some random hairs pulled out with some fancy tweezers???? Now, that would really cinch the sexy marriage stuff.

And at 46 (already) I would like to have someone convince me that even though it feels like it, I am not actually going to need a DEPENDS every time I sneeze.

Karen said...

I was pretty sure I was going to pee my pants reading this!

Especially that part about the prom dates. I swear, these offices really do have kids running things!

Lisa said...

Is it anything like when your water breaks and even though you "know" it's your water, it's probably pee, too, and if you had done the Kegals like they instructed, chances are you could probably pinch it off, but you didn't, so your pee is mixing in with the amniotic fluid. Because you can't be trusted at this point in the game to REALLY know what's going on down there? Is it like that? Cuz if so, got no use for it.

DeNae said...

Lisa: Um, maybe?

Kristina P. said...

I think I need to put a CT scan on my bucket list.

Can we recreate this next weekend? I need to pee my dress.

LKP said...

why is it though, when I talk to my husband all sexy like that it's usually over dinner, suddenly a portion of his meal or beverage winds up in his sinus or lodged in his throat, or nasal cavity for some odd reason.
and i of course find myself saving his life with the Heimlich maneuver from behind.
you're right. it keeps our marriage together, but probably cause my hubby feels indebted to me for saving his life on a daily basis. huh. strange.

annie valentine said...

Only you can write a blog post this long and make me wish there was more.

KC Mom said...

I'm so glad you walked us through this because if I ever need to check out my spleen for Burt, I'll know how it goes!

Mallory said...

Ok...Lisa's comment was pretty much exactly what I was going to say. 'Cause that has, so far, been my only experience of peeing my pants, er, hospital gown. My water had been broken and every time I even thought about coughing, I felt like I was peeing. And I wasn't sure it if was pee or just amniotic fluid. Crazy.

Also, this post definitely makes me what to get a CT scan!

Gina said...

I had a CT scan done of my mid-section when I was 19; nobody warned me about the pants peeing feeling, and I was mortified that this adorable doctor-ish young man had watched me pee all over his CT test room. He laughed good and hard at me when I tried to "confess".

NatureGirl said...

I LOVE that episode of House...

Maureen said...

Ahh yes....I remember that peed your pants feeling. Thanks for reminding me! Middle aged women have so much to contend with, the doc's just had to come up with a few more ways to make us feel "special." Lucky us! :D

aunt dyanne said...

maybe my afore-commented experience with CT was because I never really learned how to pee properly in the first place... I know that those "peanut bladder" women hate me. But it's the way I came to earth - so don't blame me....

Assuming I feel relieved that Burt Parks was only visiting temporarily and has since departed ways and left you as a healthy smooth, un-tattooed innards keeper? hope so. <3 u

One Cluttered Brain said...

Only the cool people comment on Denae's blog, so I wanna be cool today.

pants peeage?
Great word! For a minute there i thought you really did pee your pants!!


A CT of my midsection?
hmm. Sounds intriguing I'll sit out this one, K?

sounds like too much fun.

have a great week Denae!

Katherine said...

I remember the first time I got a CT scan, I thought the exact same thing. And then they came and told me they had "mis-timed" the whole thing and had to do it again. Likely story for putting me through the peed pants sensation twice!

Shelle-BlokThoughts said...

Ha! So happy that you didn't pee your pants for real... I would have been freaking out for sure. I remember when my water broke with baby one and that was totally an indescribable feeling.

Loved this post made me laugh! Which I KNOW is your number one desire! said...

BWAHAHAHA! You never disappoint! Yeah, that kind of sexy talk and a little werewolf hair. ;-)
Sooo glad Burt has moved on.

M-Cat said...

So funny! Having had several of those myself, I am convinced EVERY TIME that I have peed my pants. It feels just that weird!

Hoping Mr Pancreas is okay!

Charlotte said...

Brings back the memories of labor and delivery and proving the doctor wrong, I really had to go number two; it was NOT the baby. Of course it was the baby. But my bladder showed him, it did not keep it's control as well as yours.

Amber said...

I was thinking about my own CT scans and couldn't help but laugh at your descriptions! Oh and the peeing your pants part? I think I actually DID during my scan. :)

Zach said...

I just didn't want cheeseboy to be able to claim the glory of being the only male to comment on this. That's all.

Out Of My Head said...

absolutely brilliant. i am envying you the ability to tell something so mundane and make it so very very funny. Is this copywrited? Can I copy some of it to my blog? Its how i have always talked. I didn't know Mormons were this funny

Kimberly said...

I'm really disappointed it's not Elvis. I want to chat with my friends and say things like, "Oh Denae? Saw her on Oprah, did you? Well, I knew her WAY before Elvis manifested himself in her innards." I want to be cool by association. Any chance of Burt Parks making a come back?

Glad you're okay. =)

InkMom said...

That's because you had c-sections. Curses upon you, pelvic floor muscles with little or no integrity. Curses!

On a related note, after I had my epidural with Miscellany, I KNEW that my right leg was floating 12 inches above the bed. I knew it. Except then I looked at it, and it was all heavy and cold like dead turkey flesh, just laying there on the bed, unable to do anything except lounge in its stubbly glory.

Just goes to show you can't trust your body one iota. Or your Google reader. Something's been up with mine and I haven't seen your last two posts until the party is long over. So sorry. I'm going to unsubscribe and then resubscribe or something like that, so don't freak out if you lose and regain me as a follower. Still love you. Always will!

wendy said...

You should write for a newspaper --either the medical section or "how to talk sexy to your husband" section.
Much better then Erma Bombeck (or whatever he name was)

Beka said...

You are SOOO funny! :) I had this procedure last year, makes you wonder just how many people do come flying off that table mid-scan, desprately searching for the restroom!

And why exactly aren't there lockers or something?! Seriously, they had me change from the waist down (in a coat closet), but wouldn't let me bring my purse in with me. So I left it on the floor right outside, cause that's safe right? Then at the last minute, said that I had to take my bra off. So it sat promintly displayed in a chair like a spectator at a sporting event!

Jeez! "Ma'am that will be seven hundred forty dollars for the bladder-squeezing-hot-flash and purse theft."

Out Of My Head said...

i tried reading about the CT scan to mate last night and was laughing so hard i had tears and then he got tickled. we never finished it aloud, he had to finish it reading to himself, which took the togetherness out of our evening.

Annette Lyon said...

Sudoku? Cyanide capsule? And that's just the iceberg.

Raucous laughter.

Lady, I love your blog.

Just SO said...

So glad that you still have a bit of control over that bladder. You make me laugh. :)

AS Amber said...

Baaaaaaaa ha ha ha ha!!!!!!! Yes! This is what I had in mind when you made that statement on your last post!

Imagine you're a 16 year old girl who's just gettin done with her monthly. I was CERTAIN I had just hemoraged all over the table. I'll take the cancer, just please make it so that tech guy doesn't see all this blood!! I was so surprised when I got back to the dressing room (where are you people having these scans without dressing rooms?? Mars??) And find I was all clean. Not a speck.

Several CT scans later, I still feel like I've peed. And I hate to correct you on your own blog but...Lisa? No, it's nothing like having your water break. I've had both and the CT scan is much more convincing that you have, in fact, soiled yourself.

Kinda like I did while reading this post! So funny!

(Sorry it took me so long to comment here! Every time I tried it on the computer it wouldn't let me on this page! Now I'm on my phone and all is right with the world.)

tammy said...

Every single line of this made me laugh and I will probably be thinking of you everytime I watch House now.