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But I'M NOT BITTER...
The Goddess of battle, strife, and destruction explains it all for you

The Gastroenterologist

by

 

July 10, 2006

 

 

As if the hassle of being in a gulag of a neurology ward for 5 days was not bad enough, its apparently time for a visit with my gastroenterologist. This is an occasion I avoid assiduously but despite proffering excuses both imaginative and unanswerable, hes heard them all by now and refuses to be placated. The crafty bastard has even gone so far as to call my physicians here and has become sneakily abreast of my upcoming schedule. Doesnt he have a life?

 

I hear that youll be in London next week, he said on the phone today, causing me to nearly swallow my tongue. Your neurologist faxed me your lab results your white count and alk phos levels are through the roof I need to see you. I have an opening late next Wednesday afternoon.

 

I too have an opening, I thought darkly, and I have no intention of letting him anywhere near it. Really: the mans practice was full what was he? Some kind of fetishist? What sort of person selects this as a specialty?

 

Im going to be busy I began gamely.

 

Ill see you at 4:30, he said, and hung up on me.

 

Oh God, Im really not up for this, especially as I know exactly what to expect. If I were into this sort of thing, I would have joined the navy or embraced a life of crime. At the very least, Id be getting paid top dollar on the prostitution circuit. I certainly wouldnt be volunteering.

 

As I cast my mind back queasily to our last meeting, I quailed at the memory. There was no chitchat. No small talk. No dinner. Just right down to business.

 

OK, he was fairly quick about it not normally a quality I applaud in a man. Under the circumstances, however, endurance is not trait Im after. It cant be pleasant for him (at least I hope its not) but its going to be much more unpleasant for me because I refuse sedation it lowers my seizure threshold and this is the last place I want to have a seizure. This means I must will myself to stay perfectly still while someone does a biopsy on me under rather intimate circumstances with no drugs whatsoever. Im sure hes factored in what the anticoagulant will add to the process but Im sure the whole thing will be rendered that little bit more special because of it.

 

Im still going to spend the remaining hours between now and Wednesday afternoon trying to figure out a plausible way to weasel out of it.

 

On the bright side, it sure is good to be back at work, despite the fact that I may have inadvertently left the impression with a coworker that Im either lusting after him or should be the subject of a dangerous offender application.

 

The problem is chemical. Im still getting used to the anticonvulsant (though Im almost acclimatized now) but for the first little while, I was lost in space every time I took it. Its a megablast of topamax and my brain wasnt used to it. (I try not to play with the chemicals in my brain. It generally has fun all on its own.) The onslaught of the drug manifested itself by making me babble uncontrollably, rendering me rather more senseless (and strange) than I normally am.

 

I spent some time in his company and while I dont remember the details of our conversation with any particularity, I do recall some strange looks. I also seem to recall him furtively reconnoitering the area, as if he were checking out convenient exits in case he had to make a run for it.

 

He is now avoiding me like the plague.

 

This is more than a little embarrassing and there is no way to save the situation. I am simply going to have to resign myself to being damned as a dangerous oddball, which, come to think about it, isnt too different from the reputation I enjoyed prior to being put on this medication.

 

I suppose there is only so much I can blame on the drugs.

 

Till next time.

 

Morrigan.

 

 

 



Copyright© the Morrigan & Heartless Bitches International (heartless-bitches.com) 2004
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