Tag Archive for medicine

All Scoped Out

Ah, modern medicine. Got a problem with your gut? Just run a camera down there and see what’s up.

That’s pretty much how it went for me, anyway. I’d been sweating ulcers or a hiatal hernia for a while, so I finally went to see a GI specialist last week. Today, he ran the scope down my throat.

IV drip

Cold, cold saline going in

They told me I’d be awake for the procedure, so I’d hoped to get a look at the monitor, see what the doctor sees. What they didn’t tell me until today was part of the cocktail they use to sedate me for the procedure is an amnesia drug.

Sure enough, as far as I know it was lights out. I remember a few seconds of gagging, and telling myself not to fight it. Chances are I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to, but next thing I know my doctor and my wife were standing at the foot of my bed.

On the upside, the doc found no evidence of ulcers or hiatal hernia.

Fortunately it wasn’t one of these bad boys, either

On the downside, I get to learn more about something called eosinophilic espohagitis, which is a fancy way of saying I probably have a food allergy. Now it’s just a matter of figuring out what my triggers are. The doc says to avoid processed foods to start with, which is a good idea in general.

At least I have some peace of mind now. Ulcers could have led to surgery, as would a hiatal hernia. There was no talk of strictures or acid reflux scarring, so I’m guessing that’s clear. I’m fortunate, as this is at least the second time I’ve had some weird symptoms pointing to big problems, only to learn it’s actually something minor.

Works for me. Onward to bigger and better things, as I’ve got a race to train for.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

Insult to Toe Injury

One expects karate injuries during workouts and sparring. One does not expect injury during dojo pizza parties.

Thursday night a student ran at me and did a kneeslide toward my legs. His knee slammed into the front of my right big toe, jamming the toe and the nail. It bled, I cleaned it up, decided I’ll probably lose the nail, and moved on. I’ve had worse in class. Ripped a toenail during judo work, probably broke a toe another time, and I’ve had several other scrapes, bumps and bruises.

Sunday morning? Pus. Uh-oh. Cleaned it out again, realized there’s a small tear in or under the nail bed. Today I showed it to the nurse practitioner.

“You’re going to lose the nail,” she says.

Been there, done that. She recommends soaking it to clean it. No problem, my old podiatrists had me doing salt water soaks in my teens and twenties when I dealt with some ingrown toenails. Then she recommended an antibiotic just in case. No prob, right?

Check this shit out:

Side Effects

And I do mean "shit"

Yeah, that’s great news. No wonder it only costs four bucks a bottle. For those who can’t read the blurry stuff, here’s the transcription (pants-shitting emphasis mine):

May cause diarrhea during treatment. If it persists or becomes severe, tell your doctor or pharmacist.

Persistent diarrhea due to colitis may rarely occur weeks to months after using antibiotics. If this occurs, notify your doctor or pharmacist promptly.

Read the bold bits together for the full effect. Let that shit sink in (pun fully intended). I just took the first dose, and I picture a depth charge making its way through my guts.

One little toe injury and I have this to look forward to:

Maybe I can get True Lies-era Jamie Lee Curtis to spoon-feed me Activia to counter the effects. While dancing.

“No, do it… slower. Do it… sexy.”

Yeees…

Wait, what was I talking about?

Oh, right. Just don’t stand behind me for a while.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

Giving New Meaning to "Remote Start"

With three of my spawn already roaming the Earth, the Wife and I have discussed more permanent methods of contraception, particularly those aimed south of my navel. The idea of vasectomy is not particularly appealing, but given the reports from cousins, friends, and co-workers who have all had it done have been overwhelmingly positive, it’s the most likely route we’ll be taking.

Today I read about a new, reversible vasectomy method under development. The concept is simple: the doc installs a radio-controlled valve that opens and closes to allow or prevent the passage of sperm from the testes. One click you’re shooting blanks, the next you’re locked and loaded.

Not a bad idea in principle, but I’m not convinced remote-controlled genitalia is such a swell idea. In particular, I’m not sure I want to knock my wife up after the neighbor opens his garage door. The article says the remotes are keyed to the valve, but that’s what they say about garage door remotes. Not to mention doorbells; a past neighbor and I drove each other nuts one month because both of us chose the same jumper configuration on our wireless remotes. If the remote’s packing RSA encryption, maybe I’ll feel a little more comfortable, but otherwise they can pound sand.

Codes aside, do I really want someone else in control of my nads? “Hey Doc, the wife and I are thinking we’d like another shot at twins. Can I borrow my clicker?”

What if the doctor’s office burns to the ground? What if some ditzy nurse loses the database of which remote belongs to which sack? What if some prankster got a hold of my clicker, or worse, held my clicker for ransom?

“Drop $20,000 in a paper bag under the 28th Street bridge at midnight or I open the floodgates!”

I don’t know about you, but $20k to avoid another few years of diapers and another $100,000 or so to raise a child to age 18 is probably worth it. Not to mention getting control of one’s manhood back.

Good luck with that experiment, doc, but I think I’ll take a pass. The Earth needs no further fruit from my loins, and I can live with 24 hours of feeling like I just took a nutshot if it means my wife won’t have to get gutted.

I’d also rather deal with a little snip than having to cook my boys once a month. Yow…

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.