Scans

This is a whiny health-related post so just skip it if you want. It will most likely be the ONLY whiny health-related post I will ever do as I prefer to keep things upbeat.
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Several weeks ago, David forced encouraged me to go to the doctor. I had been having chest pain on and off ranging from mild to moderate. My migraines had also been getting more frequent, and I had passed-out again. (The first time was last year, and the culprit was low Potassium.) Don't get me wrong. I love my doctor. She listens carefully, is very professional, yet friendly, and easy to get in to see. I just don't like having anything wrong with me that requires a doctor visit.

Anyway, after a normal EKG, my doctor started pushing around on my abdominal area while I tried not to come off the table when she pressed on certain spots. She said that she thought it was my gall bladder. I beg your pardon. Are you sure you're looking at the right chart? David just had his gall bladder out last month, but I don't have gall bladder problems. Apparently, I do. She mentioned a list of symptoms that I had ignored or dismissed as other stuff. That pain just below my ribs on the right side...not high gas after all. Suffering from heartburn for the first time in my life...not heartburn. My doctor said that gall bladder pain can show up as chest pain going straight through to the back, so she ordered an ultrasound.

During the ultrasound, it freaking HURT when she pushed on my gall bladder area so I was expecting the worst, but a few days later, I got the report of no gall stones. Well, alrighty then! My gall bladder must be fine...nope. Time for a HIDA scan, but first let's get an MRI of your brain just to address the migraines and passing-out. (My Potassium had come back normal this time.)

Now folks, I'm semi-claustrophobic. It's never affected my quality of life or anything. I can do elevators as long as its not full of people with me trapped at the back. I can do caves fine, once I'm down in them. The initial cave entry is stressful, but I can do it. That stupid MRI machine, however, was a whole other ball-game. I thought that I would be okay as long as I closed my eyes. I started breathing hard when the techs snapped this cage over my head. I had my eyes closed after that, but I could still tell when I slid into the coffin tunnel, because it went from light to dark (even with my eyes shut) AND they had packed me so tightly to keep me still that my shoulders kind of squished together making me feel extremely trapped. PLUS I had that &^%$@ cage locked down over my head so I couldn't have slid myself out if I wanted to. The techs had barely exited the room before I panicked and squeezed the little bulb they had given me. We tried again, but I just couldn't do it. They told me that they would call my doctor to reschedule and I could have her give me something to relax me.

Several days later - MRI Take 2 - I took a Xanax at 5:15am and another at 5:45am. David was with me this time and had permission to stay with me, touching me so I would know he was there. This tech was much more understanding being claustrophobic herself. She taped an oxygen tube onto my shirt so I would have air blowing over my face and didn't pack me quite as tightly. At 6:00am, I slid into the tube and felt just as panicky as before. The *&%$ Xanax did not seem to be doing anything. I had never had it before so I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. THANK GOD David was there. He talked to me soothingly and rubbed my legs the ENTIRE time. He is the ONLY reason I made it through the first 10 minutes. In an effort to relax, I was singing little lullabies in my head that I used to sing to KJ. One was about counting to 30 and the other was learning the months of the year. (Yes, I was one of those moms.)

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, seeev-en..8, 9, 10, 11, 12.....thiiiir-teen, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20........21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, tweeeenty-nine and then comes 30 can you count along with me?" over and over

"January, February, March, and Apriiil...May and June, July and Auguuust...September, October, November, Deceeeember..These are the months of the year. 12...12...12...12 months, 12 months come in every year...12...12...12...12 months, 12 months come in every year" over and over

I knew when the Xanax kicked in, finally, when I struggled to remember how to count to 30 and what were those months again?

We stopped to eat on the way home and I could barely form a coherent sentence. By the time we arrived back home around 8:15am, I was slurring my words and went straight to bed. People, I slept until 2:00 that afternoon! Actually sleep may not be the correct word. I was comatose until 2:00 that afternoon! (KJ was at his dad's.) I really think I can get through any future brain MRI's with just David though. No more Xanax for me!

The HIDA scan was l-o-n-g and boring, but uneventful. It showed that my gall bladder is only working at 23% so it needs to come out. I see the surgeon this Friday to schedule that. The MRI showed a "non-specific finding" spot in my white matter that is most likely caused by a migraine. My doc wants me to follow up with a neurologist just to be sure, and to do something about the increase in migraines. Ironically, that spot is located in the same place where most of my migraines start. I won't see the neurologist until mid-September unless they have a cancellation.