I Will Kick Your Ass

I‘ve been a smidgen sick as of late. I cruised on over to the medicine man’s office on one of my ill-gotten days off last week to find that not only had my doctor been replaced (temporarily, apparently) with a nurse/practitioner, but that she was as hot, as they say, as a baker’s oven. I haven’t actually seen, much less used an actual baker’s oven before, but she was far hotter than my civilian oven, and that thing can melt cookie sheets.

As anyone who has known me for more than 2 days knows, I have some sort of acid issue that has gone unresolved for a number of years now. I all but live on the grace and glory of the little pink & whites that I pop like Haas’s Heroes on a daily basis.

I had been tossing cookies almost professionally before actually going to the doc-doc. When I got there, the hot doctress had her way with me (mostly with little lighty things that go in ears, noses and throats – but a boy can dream) and I let her know about the acidy issue I have been contending with.

She bugged out.

You see, you are not supposed to let these things go, apparently. 3 years with my stomach issue is, she says, 3 years longer than you are supposed to pretend that life makes sense this way, and its perfectly normal for you to ralph acid, blood and bile if you’re not a famotidine addict.

She ordered me an Upper GI and, if the GI is inconclusive, an Endoscopy. The former has me drinking a barium milkshake. About 8 of them, actually. I have been told that this sucks, but I should be happy I am not getting an endoscopy because that sucks so much harder. (note, I am)

The doctress says I’ve likely got holes in my stomach. The question is more what is causing them than if or if not they exist. She had my blood drawn, tissue taken out of my throat and, as stated, tests ordered for me. It could be a bacterial thing, stress ulcers or overactive acid. The bacteria thing can be cured with a few pills, the stress ulcers will require a “total life change” and the acidy thing can as well be pilled into submission.

So, it all looks pretty easy, right? Just drink some radioactive crap and a camera, pop some pills and be done, no? Well, no. You see to have gone so long without treatment causes the body to “treat” itself. There is a likelihood that my throat has gotten pretty well fed up with having acid sloshed over it every day and decided (I am not kidding, apparently this happens a lot) to change its composition to that more suitable for stomach lining in some sort of effort to protect itself. This rocks and all, I am glad that there is someone looking out for me on a cellular level and everything, but there is a complication with this. You see, the cells get the order to change by the acid sloshing all over them all the time. As we all learned in biology, though, most physical adaptation is reactive and not proactive. The cells start changing and, often, never frigging stop changing. The acid is a catalyst to the change, but the lack thereof after the problem is fixed is not, itself, a catalyst for anything. The cells keep mutating. Mutating cells. Is this hitting anyone else where it counts? Cell mutation, kids, is what we in the freaking the fuck out world like to refer to as “cancer”.

Doctress says not to worry, though. Doctress says that, though 3 years is a hell of a long time to have let this go, that there is no reason to fret about anything until we all know what the hell is up and that she just had to tell me in case. I am glad she got that off chest. She did leave me with some new pink & whites, only they are pink & black.

Oh. One last thing. You’d better act soon or you might miss your chance to get your ass beat.