Tuesday I got a disposable camera and went back to snap pics on the stairs where I fell. As I was peering through the viewfinder it was even more obvious to me that looking at them from the top down you can't tell at all that there's an extra step at the bottom of the main stairs. If they look as treacherous in photos as they were in real life I'm going to contact the Camden County Bar Association and see what a personal injury lawyer has to say about my Dance of the Flying Phone Geeks.
Friday was my last day of class in Virginia, and I talked to Jim first thing in the morning. His c-diff has flared again. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get Jimmy onto the bus- he might have to call the neighbor. As soon as he tells me this, MY insides start churning and I don't feel well either. So I popped two flagyl and everything started to slowly calm down, but not before I had my c-diff contaminated behind in the ladies' room a few times. Dr. Kozuch had given me an alternative medicine to use instead of the flagyl but it's a powder that you have to mix with a drink. Talk about impractical. How was I supposed to accomplish THAT during class? Give me a pill....I don't have time for mixing powder.
I drove home from Virginia in the afternoon and when I got home I layed down for awhile. Jim was starting to feel better because his flagyl had kicked in. I must have asked him four or five times to call Dr. Kozuch. FINALLY he did that and left a message. My in-laws came over that night with a baked chicken. But as soon as Judy cut it up my kitchen had a funky smell. Everyone smelled it. I blamed it on Jim farting, but that chicken smelled like ass. (Note to Joey....you tell your mother that I said the chicken smelled like ass and I'll pop you. Don't be stirring up any trouble. You know they don't have internet and will never get it so I'm safe telling the truth.) I can't even put that chicken in the trash yet because the garage will smell like ass before trash day. It's covered with Saran wrap in the fridge to hold the ass smell in. Jim said, "Now you know why I was so skinny living at home." But Judy meant well, and we thanked her and just pretended we weren't hungry.
While the in-laws were still there we get a call back from Dr. Kozuch. First she talks to Jim, calls in more flagyl for him, tells him to try my powdered crap, and schedules an appointment for him to come see her. Then she gets on the phone with me because she has my biopsy results from my tests last week. First, she tells me that I had the worst case of candida of the esophagus that she ever saw. I think she used the term "a petri dish full of flora". My next step there is to find a pulmonary specialist to find an alternative to my Flovent inhaler, because that's the likely cause, and the infection will just keep coming back. Then she tells me that besides chronic gastritis I also have something called intestinal metaplasia, which really has nothing to do with the intestines. It means that the cells in my stomach are no longer stomach cells. They have morphed into intestinal cells, and this is a pre-cancerous condition. There is nothing I can do to reverse it or to stop it. All I can do is go for regular biopsies to make sure the cells haven't morphed further into cancer cells. Now, just because I have this doesn't mean I will get stomach cancer....I just have to be on high alert. She went on to say that if this were in my esophagus, I'd be in big trouble, but if it's found in the stomach there is no directive in place to dictate what is done. There is no standard among physicians to say "intestinal metaplasia....do XY and Z". So we'll watch it. I have no previous stomach biopsy to compare this to, but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if my stomach's been like this for years. I haven't been able to properly digest my food since 1987. My previous doctors all thought the issue was a problem in my colon. Little did they know all I had was one big colon from the bottom of my throat all the way out.
So my response is...whatever. I'm a little grossed out, but there isn't jack I can do. Jim and I both felt lousy this weekend, but we managed to take Jimmy to a movie last night and then to Creanies for ice cream. Jim's got an awful cough. I'm calling Dr. McAndrew tomorrow whether he likes it or not. He sounds terrible and I'm home for this week and then off to Minneapolis next Sunday for another class.
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