Bertha

I Feel Lighter

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Mar 172010
 

Yesterday I went and had an ultrasound. At my preliminary walkaround and tire-kicking, the doc observed that my thyroid seemed a bit large and my gall bladder a bit tender. So she wanted ultrasounds to check those out. And as long as they were looking, they also had a peer at my liver, kidneys, spleen, and who knows what else.

Getting an ultrasound when not pregnant is an entirely different thing from getting one while pregnant. When they’re just looking at the baby, they just glide the ultrasound sensor over your big, round belly. You’re well-insulated from the thing, and what they want to look at is protruding so much they can easily get the sensor at any angle they like.

Getting an ultrasound of your own internal organs is a little more… intimate. They press down quite firmly. They have you breathe deeply and hold your breath, to shift your organs down below your ribs where they can get at them. They dig in to try and get a better angle on the things.

Funny, before my first trip to the doctor I was barely aware I had a gall bladder, or a spleen. Now I know where they are and what they do.

The gall bladder is fine, but the spleen apparently looked questionable in some way that I didn’t quite understand when the nurse called me with the results while I was still half-awake. Something about it was probably caused by an infection and is likely nothing to worry about, but they want to have a CTI done.

And this morning I finally got the blood drawn for my ALCAT screening. Four vials. The nurse was very good at it, I barely felt the needle, but I still get squicked at the draining sensation of having a lot of blood drawn.

Now I have a two-week wait for those results. I hate waiting.

Fun with Allergies

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Mar 152010
 

A number of years ago, I started getting sick after we had pizza.

No one else in the family got sick. Just me. Several hours after eating I would experience horrible gut cramps. Generally I would spend the rest of the evening on the toilet, praying for death.

Needless to say, for a while I stopped eating pizza.

One night I made myself some garlic-butter shrimp. Several hours later, I had the same reaction I had from the pizza.

Putting two and two together, I deduced I was having a reaction to the garlic.

That sucked. I love garlic.

I went to a doctor and had them do a blood test. They tested me for allergies to garlic, dairy, and wheat.

Nada.

Must have been a coincidence. I celebrated by having some garlic bread.

My digestive tract attempted to turn itself inside out. I resumed my self-imposed garlic boycott.

One afternoon Alpha Geek suggested lunch at Firehouse Subs.

“We can go get you something, but I can’t eat there any more,” I replied. “The last few times I’ve eaten their subs I’ve gotten really sick afterwards. I guess it’s too much meat, or something.”

Later, after he’d started on his sub, Alpha Geek remarked, “No wonder you got sick. This meat is drenched in garlic.”

Dammit. I love Firehouse Subs.

A year or so ago, I was having lunch with my friend Romilly, and mentioned my blood test.

“I don’t care what that blood test said,” I concluded, “I’m allergic to garlic.”

“You might have a food sensitivity, rather than a food allergy,” mused Romilly, who has food allergies and is painfully familiar with the topic. “That’s an entirely different test.”

Well, shit. The damn doctor never mentioned that.

Romilly offered the name of her own doctor, who had done a more comprehensive workup and found all her allergies. Unfortunately the tests involved are prohibitively expensive, and the doctor in question does not take insurance—she doesn’t want her treatment to be restricted by what an insurance company decides she should be allowed to do. Our insurance would probably reimburse us, but first there was the matter of having the money to start with.

So (nearing the end of my rambling little tale), we agreed to use our tax refund to cover the cost of this expensive testing and find out once and for all what my gut is reacting to. Is it just the garlic? Is it actually something else, and the garlic is just making it worse?

I’ve already been in for a preliminary walkaround and tire-kicking, but I had to put off the followup while I was working all day at the post office in another city. But tomorrow I’ll be going in for the full monty. They’re doing something called an ALCAT blood test. I sincerely hope within a week to know for sure what I can and cannot eat.

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