E-N-D-O-S-C-O-P-Y

And that spells en DOSS cuh pee! And that's what I got to do this morning instead of packing and getting ready for my road trip.

I am so behind, I think I was just lapped.

Anyhoo, back to the endoscopy. My little sister Bethy came along for moral support and driving support if necessary.

All this was performed at the behest of Dr. John Alexander, M.D., at RHD Memorial Medical Center.

The fellow who checked me in at registration was a very nice, older gentleman from India named AMES. Well, actually, I realized a little later (when he answered the telephone) that his name really was JAMES but that the "J" on his name tag had come off. JAMES was a very nice man who not only checked me in but escorted me down to the day-surgery wing where I was to be checked in for my endoscopy.

Teri and Barbara were my nurses. Barbara was probably one of the funniest human beings I've ever met in a hospital setting. She kept Bethy and me laughing our heads off the whole time. The nurse (Susan) who put in my IV got it in the first time, although there was much blood. I felt faint, as I often do when someone sticks something into me. This fact is embarrassing to me -- I was not always thus. A doctor once told me it was an involuntary response and that some people just have it. Barbara is a Christian not unlike myself, so we were able to chat about eternal things as well as joking about whatever we could think of to joke about.

In the endoscopy room, the anesthesiologist gave me some Versed and said, "Are you feeling the effects yet?" I was just about to say, "No," but I think I was gone right about that time. I remember NOTHING until they woke me up with the revelation that I had danced around the IV pole for them all. I think they were kidding.

Doc Alexander told me that I had a complete obstruction and that, while I was clear for traveling, I should only have liquids until such time as he was able to open me up and fix the obstruction. He is going to repair the damage, but just fixing it back the way it was is only an invitation for another obstruction in the future, so we're going to move ahead with the plan of converting my previous (and now extremely outdated) procedure into what's basically a Roux-en-Y gastric bypass.

To do this, however, I had to be evaluated by the shrink who works with him (a very nice lady named Dr. Galt), and they'll have to work it out with my insurance. I spoke with Dr. Galt at length this morning, and she's going to do a write-up on my mental state. Lord knows what that's going to look like. Talk about gazing into the abyss! hehe

Any-hoo, whenever they decide to schedule this procedure, I'm going to have them hold off at least until I get back from my trip to the Holocaust Museum at the end of this month. That's not something that's up for negotiation!!

This is going to be an expensive summer. Alice is going into the hospital herself on July 9th for more testing and evaluation for possible surgery. In between all this, I'm supposed to start a high school art department from scratch.

And right at this very MOMENT, I'm supposed to be packing for a week-long road trip. Martha is always too keyed-up the night before such things, and she's driving me crazy with requests and reminders.

And my throat hurts from having a metal camera tube shoved down it.

And I have consented to something I swore I would NEVER do again. Do you KNOW how much I hate being sliced into? If I weren't vomiting every single DAY, I guarantee you I would not be undergoing this. Yes, I'm still overweight, but I can fit into an airplane seat, so who cares? I'm not doing this to lose weight again, although Doc says that will happen. I'm doing it to try to regain a somewhat normal daily existence.

When I underwent the first weight-loss procedure, it was all about the weight and my appearance. I was horribly ashamed of my appearance and hated being seen by anyone. The self-loathing was palpable.

Since that time, I've changed quite a bit. I now care very little about that... yes, I like pretty clothes and looking nice, but I feel as though real beauty shows from inside. It wouldn't matter what the number on the scale was, if I was a nasty and negative person. And people will think you're pretty if you're positive and cheerful and friendly.

And it WILL be really, really pleasant not to have to find a place to hide and throw up several times each day. Yes, indeedy. Doc Alexander believes he can alleviate that problem for me, for good. I sure hope so.

Oh, and besides the sore throat, my jaws are also really sore.