For the past many months (can I even say most of the year), I have been under the care of a gastroenterologist for some anemia. I have had many tests with this doctor....those uncomfortable-to-prepare-for tests like colonoscopy, endoscopy, and the swallowing of two pill cameras at different times.
The first pill camera trek through my digestive system showed I have bleeding ulcers in the small intestines. (Look at this as a medical lesson if you are blessed to read this.) I never knew there were such. I was familiar with the stomach ulcers which are pretty normal but these kind of not so normal. Of course. Rarely do I get normal stuff, huh? Supposedly the ulcers are from NSAID's that I have taken often for my osteoarthritis. Cortisone shots, pain medicine, and muscle relaxers are the norm for me now for arthritis control. Those NSAID's really helped me. So sad that they can't help me now.
I did swallow the second pill camera about three weeks ago. It showed the ulcers still there and still bleeding. My gastroenterologist has chosen to send me to yet another gastroenterologist...yes, a specialist sending me to another specialist... for a double balloon enterscopy....doesn't sound like a time I will enjoy. This doctor is at Emory, the big dog of hospitals....or so they say. Problem was, my doctor seemed to never be able to supply exactly what the doctor at the big dog hospital needed in the way of a paper color copy of the report.
After three weeks and realizing the big hospital folks could get me in fairly soon, I decided to hand deliver the results they were needing. I did this yesterday. Yes, I, who am not very familiar with the big city area headed that way. Alone. I did get there good, drove around the full parking deck for about 20 minutes before getting to the very top and being directed by three different traffic guys to a parking place. Wow. I had never seen such of a problem with parking.
I managed to find my way to Building B as instructed. That is, I found my way after being instructed again by two different people. I felt like Dorothy..."Toto, I think we are not in Kansas anymore." The Husband asked later about my experience and was hoping I would know exactly where to go, but I assured him I did not, even after going there.
I found my way to the exit where I paid $4 for my time there--paid $4 to drive around that parking deck....driving 95% of my time there. Quite a money maker, I would say. The problem at the exit was that the exit was at a different place from the entrance. I had to choose whether to turn left or right. I chose right, of course. Wrong choice. After about fifteen minutes of driving, I realized none of this looked familiar. Ah. I had taken the wrong turn. I finally was able to find a place to pull over and dug out my city map that I carry in my glove box. (I drive an old car without a GPS. A paper map is all I can do.) I realized I had driven way south in that big city. I turned around and totally backtracked, searching as I drove for that sign that said "Hospital" and pointed me in the right direction. Eventually, I saw that sign and it took me directly to the hospital where I could begin my trip home again.
After I got to where I needed to be to start again, I had no trouble getting back home. Isn't that how life often is? We take a wrong turn, get in a neighborhood that is unfamiliar, and have to stop and figure out where we are, how we got there, and how to get home again. The joy of seeing that familiar place is the best feeling ever. You know what I mean.....when we drift away from the Lord into a spot where we really don't want to be, we can ask for help and find it.
I know that when we go back to the big dog hospital for the testing, I will be a bit more confident as I know now to turn left out of the parking deck. AND I will have a driver in whom I am very confident, The Husband. I know, too, that in my life, I can count on my Lord to be my pilot, and that gives me blessed assurance. HE knows the right way!
The first pill camera trek through my digestive system showed I have bleeding ulcers in the small intestines. (Look at this as a medical lesson if you are blessed to read this.) I never knew there were such. I was familiar with the stomach ulcers which are pretty normal but these kind of not so normal. Of course. Rarely do I get normal stuff, huh? Supposedly the ulcers are from NSAID's that I have taken often for my osteoarthritis. Cortisone shots, pain medicine, and muscle relaxers are the norm for me now for arthritis control. Those NSAID's really helped me. So sad that they can't help me now.
I did swallow the second pill camera about three weeks ago. It showed the ulcers still there and still bleeding. My gastroenterologist has chosen to send me to yet another gastroenterologist...yes, a specialist sending me to another specialist... for a double balloon enterscopy....doesn't sound like a time I will enjoy. This doctor is at Emory, the big dog of hospitals....or so they say. Problem was, my doctor seemed to never be able to supply exactly what the doctor at the big dog hospital needed in the way of a paper color copy of the report.
After three weeks and realizing the big hospital folks could get me in fairly soon, I decided to hand deliver the results they were needing. I did this yesterday. Yes, I, who am not very familiar with the big city area headed that way. Alone. I did get there good, drove around the full parking deck for about 20 minutes before getting to the very top and being directed by three different traffic guys to a parking place. Wow. I had never seen such of a problem with parking.
I managed to find my way to Building B as instructed. That is, I found my way after being instructed again by two different people. I felt like Dorothy..."Toto, I think we are not in Kansas anymore." The Husband asked later about my experience and was hoping I would know exactly where to go, but I assured him I did not, even after going there.
I found my way to the exit where I paid $4 for my time there--paid $4 to drive around that parking deck....driving 95% of my time there. Quite a money maker, I would say. The problem at the exit was that the exit was at a different place from the entrance. I had to choose whether to turn left or right. I chose right, of course. Wrong choice. After about fifteen minutes of driving, I realized none of this looked familiar. Ah. I had taken the wrong turn. I finally was able to find a place to pull over and dug out my city map that I carry in my glove box. (I drive an old car without a GPS. A paper map is all I can do.) I realized I had driven way south in that big city. I turned around and totally backtracked, searching as I drove for that sign that said "Hospital" and pointed me in the right direction. Eventually, I saw that sign and it took me directly to the hospital where I could begin my trip home again.
After I got to where I needed to be to start again, I had no trouble getting back home. Isn't that how life often is? We take a wrong turn, get in a neighborhood that is unfamiliar, and have to stop and figure out where we are, how we got there, and how to get home again. The joy of seeing that familiar place is the best feeling ever. You know what I mean.....when we drift away from the Lord into a spot where we really don't want to be, we can ask for help and find it.
I know that when we go back to the big dog hospital for the testing, I will be a bit more confident as I know now to turn left out of the parking deck. AND I will have a driver in whom I am very confident, The Husband. I know, too, that in my life, I can count on my Lord to be my pilot, and that gives me blessed assurance. HE knows the right way!
