It turns out...

I like medicine, but not when it's happening to me.

The main thing I remembered about metronidazole is that in our chart for bacteriology, it listed possible side effects: "GI upset" GI upset fails to describe the potential for stomach-knotting pain and uneasy nausea. Sadly, I didn't make it through the full 10 days, so the chances are I'll have to take something like it again. I spent most of my supposed vacation with family in Vegas huddled on a couch, while my GI microflora learned about living in a world with metronidazole. I was cheated out of three days of eating! In Las Vegas!

Now that I actually have doctors looking at my persistent anemia and vague GI symptoms, they want to do all sorts of things to me. The antibiotic was just the start. I spent the morning sitting in the gastro office, facing a very nice poster that details every thing that can go wrong with your digestive system from the esophagus down. I did not find it comforting.

If it were my dog (who, incidentally, ripped his scalp open yesterday and needed sutures) I would be all for finding a diagnosis. As it is, I have trouble. My constellation of symptoms indicate what I always suspected, that my GI tract is a lemon (more of an orange...I mean, it's worked okay so far). How do you fix that? It's not like you can replace it. I just spent a year and a half learning how irreplaceable the digestive system is. I also learned that imaging is often the biggest part of medicine. To illustrate this point, they have to look at my digestive system, which means endoscopes. Endoscopes mean sedation to the verge of unconsciousness, so I won't even be able to write it off as a learning experience. (someone, quick, invent an effective ultrasound scan!)

And I'm getting cheated out of two more days of eating. Hmph.

Cleancleanclean

Cleaning is proving to be a challenge. Yesterday was the easy bit--shuffling stuff from the living room until it was all in respective piles. Turns out it's hard to get beyond that point. Every surface is dusty, and choosing a spot to start sweeping is harder than it looks (the more motile dust bunnies escape to all four corners. Some of them take refuge on the carpet, which means I'm going to have to vaccuum too. I just vaccuumed a month ago!)

I also have a lot of recycling and garbage to take down to the basement. This sounds less intimidating than it really is. To take anything to the basement requires the unlocking and wrenching open of one door, traversing the stairs, and unlocking and shoving open a second door. It's not truly strenuous, but around the third trip I get really tired of the doors smugly slamming themselves shut as soon as I let go of the handle.

I took a break to make spritz cookies. I found the recipe in a batch of post-it notes on the refrigerator, which I think have been there for two years. Yum, spritz. Butter! I ate three or four and my tongue went numb, which I think means metronidazole is incompatible with almond extract. Pity. It's probably more important for me to finish the antibiotics than the cookies.

At least there's lots of commercial-free Christmas music on the radio!