Well, it’s true. When nothing goes in, nothing goes out. But when something goes in, no matter how little, something should come out. Dehydration equals constipation. No fiber equals constipation. Opoid meds equal constipation. Eating one type of food, the Egg Custard….. constipation. Sitting on one’s booty for days at a time….guess what? Constipation! I had a hard tummy pooch and I have not one ounce of fat on my abdomen, benefits of boob harvestation. Well, I am thankful that the 5 foot baby got birthed. 🙂 One happy ending anyway. What can I say, Irritable Bowel Syndrome at it’s best.
Everything on me hurts. Dehydration will do that to you.
The Egg Custard was watery today. It gets that way. Not really one of those dishes that can sit around for any length of time. Sadly, no more Egg Custard. My dad is in the hospital with double pneumonia, and mom is taking care of him. He and I are the see-saws to her pole. Plus, I am sick of Egg Custard. (!)
I went to my normal follow-up cancer appointment. My oncologist is the coolest doode. But they all are. Cancer doctors are just special. Most offer to become your primary doctor if you survive cancer if you want them to. Partly because what is left of you after cancer isn’t too pretty, and most GP’s are so overloaded that the special post-cancer needs, the “glass” patients’, are often better left in the hands of the specialists.
I am so low on fluids, if you couldn’t tell from my first sentence. I’m peeing brown. And I have a glass ear (my term for a medical problem) and whenever I am out of balance I get right-sided vertigo when I turn my head. So I was pretty miserable, first because my center of gravity had changed to my bowels and second because I was on a repeating Wheely Go Round any time I turned my head. And my hands were blue from dehydration.
Try and drive with vertigo. Not the best, and I will deny it right and left if this post gets to litigation!
Poor Dr Pluenneke (don’t ask, just try). He saw my pitiful self and how dizzy I was and told me I would be so much better with IV fluids. Oh, no! I refused and refused and refused.
Dr P: Just let me give you some IV fluids. You will feel so much better, like you did on chemo. You can come in a couple of times a week until you are drinking better.
Me: No, I just need to suck it up and keep on. What is that really going to do?
Dr P: Make you feel better.
Me: Until I pee it right back on out.
Dr P: Not for 24 hours or so. And you will catch up some by drinking today.
Me: Have you seen what they did to my veins? My right arm was twice the size of the left by the time I left the hospital! I couldn’t close my fingers. My body HATES IV fluids! (We look at my blue hands.) See? No veins left. And see that last little one right there? Im saving it for a car accident.
Finally he gave up.
Going home in a dizzy whirl, I wondered what made me so resistant to getting help. My boss ordered me to go in and get some IV fluids. I think I would have gone for the IV fluids if it would have been a permanent fix for me. But the effort is just too time consuming as a Band-Aid therapy only. Plus, I would be poked and prodded and I am out of veins right now. I’ve never had veins. Even when I was anorexic. I have those “no vein” arms, and only one pitiful vein in each hand. I am a “horrible stick”, as they say in lab land. So I protect them, because I get a lot of lab drawn and I need every little sucker I have plump and happy and ready to take one for the team.
One should always have a little vein saved for the Car Accident.