Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Stopping to Take Care of Yourself
I was so busy the first year as a HS Principal that I neglected getting a colonoscopy check-up. That was a mistake because when I went today, there was a rather large polop and it took some tricky procedures by the Doc to get it out. Sometimes they don't get it all, which I belive was the case, thus making it necessary to do a follow-up the year later.
I did the disgustiong prep; you know, chugging a gallon of the golytely, eating green jello, taking a laxitive, and giving two enemas in the morning. I took a day off and, fortunately, my wife did the same to pick me up. When I came out of the procedure room I took a long time to recover.
Recovery was way too long because my heart rate dropped to the 30's while under with the medicqtion. They watcdhed the number slowly climb into the 40's and stay there. Donna, my wife, came in at this point since I was about an hour overdue for recovery. We watched the HR climb into the 50's and 60's and the nurse tried to transition me into a reclining chair. At first I was OK but in a short while I felt dizzy and had to be returned to the bed. I did try to go to the bathroom to relieve the tremendous gas pressure, but nothing I did helped. It became more painful.
I diverted myself by eavesdropping on the conversations at the nurse's station to learn their names. When I needed something, I called them by their first name. This is a habbit I have picked up as an administrator. Nurse Maggie called the doctor, which ordered an x-ray to confirm that all was OK , so I was wheeled down to x-ray for a few shots, which ended being a portfolio because they didn't take. When they finally wheeled me out, I told the technician that I was not calling him to do my son's wedding pictures. He was hurt! Boy, what fragile egos.
The doctor finally paid a last visit. I was feeling a little better, enough to go home so when he said he couldn't find any "free air", which means air migration into the abdominal cavity, he felt I was well enough to scoot. I did feel a little better and since I could not feel my hands because of the cold, I was more than eager to get into the sunshine. Donna helped me dress and I was wheeled out to her car.
At home the gas pain was the same, bad, but I was home and could relax. I was not home for long before the urge to pass gas hit me. I still couldn't do it and instead, I was overcome with a bout of projectile vomiting. Having barely reached the toilet I proceeded to give a new coat to the floor and the toilet as well as my clothes. Donna immediately phoned the doctor since this was one of the symptoms that required a call.
The doc said it confirmed his suspicions; that I had an allergic reaction to the drugs they gave me. I felt better enought to write this blog but I'm a long way from being the vim and vigorous HS principal I need to be tomorrow. We'll see what the night holds..........
I did the disgustiong prep; you know, chugging a gallon of the golytely, eating green jello, taking a laxitive, and giving two enemas in the morning. I took a day off and, fortunately, my wife did the same to pick me up. When I came out of the procedure room I took a long time to recover.
Recovery was way too long because my heart rate dropped to the 30's while under with the medicqtion. They watcdhed the number slowly climb into the 40's and stay there. Donna, my wife, came in at this point since I was about an hour overdue for recovery. We watched the HR climb into the 50's and 60's and the nurse tried to transition me into a reclining chair. At first I was OK but in a short while I felt dizzy and had to be returned to the bed. I did try to go to the bathroom to relieve the tremendous gas pressure, but nothing I did helped. It became more painful.
I diverted myself by eavesdropping on the conversations at the nurse's station to learn their names. When I needed something, I called them by their first name. This is a habbit I have picked up as an administrator. Nurse Maggie called the doctor, which ordered an x-ray to confirm that all was OK , so I was wheeled down to x-ray for a few shots, which ended being a portfolio because they didn't take. When they finally wheeled me out, I told the technician that I was not calling him to do my son's wedding pictures. He was hurt! Boy, what fragile egos.
The doctor finally paid a last visit. I was feeling a little better, enough to go home so when he said he couldn't find any "free air", which means air migration into the abdominal cavity, he felt I was well enough to scoot. I did feel a little better and since I could not feel my hands because of the cold, I was more than eager to get into the sunshine. Donna helped me dress and I was wheeled out to her car.
At home the gas pain was the same, bad, but I was home and could relax. I was not home for long before the urge to pass gas hit me. I still couldn't do it and instead, I was overcome with a bout of projectile vomiting. Having barely reached the toilet I proceeded to give a new coat to the floor and the toilet as well as my clothes. Donna immediately phoned the doctor since this was one of the symptoms that required a call.
The doc said it confirmed his suspicions; that I had an allergic reaction to the drugs they gave me. I felt better enought to write this blog but I'm a long way from being the vim and vigorous HS principal I need to be tomorrow. We'll see what the night holds..........
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