By this point I already had several endoscopies and at least two colonoscopies. My doctor couldn’t find the problem in the upper part or the lower part, so it was time to investigate the middle. We were looking for bleeding, evidence of Crohn’s disease or inflammatory bowel disease. Might find polyps, ulcers, or a tumor hiding deep in the nooks and crannies of my digestive tract. Any clue on why I was so sick.
When I was told another test was needed, I stacked each vertebra on top of the other tightly, my spine shrinking an inch with the compression. What would the next step entail? Searching deep where the sun don’t shine, where neither colonoscopy nor endoscopy could see. How many nightmares would I have in anticipation? How many weeks would I have to wait for what would surely be an even more invasive test?
It was a pill. A large one, but a single capsule swallowed with a dixie cup of water. No anesthesia, no needles, no days filled by x rays and sweaty waiting rooms.
This giant pill, once swallowed, journeyed from input to output, passing sphincter after sphincter and taking photos along the way, transmitting the data wirelessly to my doctor’s computer. Inside this giant pill was a radioactive tracker that made my body temporarily radioactive. My superhero powers were finally going to be revealed!
This was all that I absorbed from the conversation because with just the few details, my brain became overwhelmed and began its familiar spiral. It’s not something I love about my brain. In the present day, my therapist has taught me coping skills that have *really* helped to slow or stop the spiral. These are skills I had yet to learn at the time of my doctor visit. The Tea Cup ride at the carnival wishes it had the spinning speed of my anxiety.
Aaaaaaand, we’re off:
1. Did this guy just tell me the next step was just taking a giant pill?
2. Did this guy just tell me that a giant pill would take pictures and transmit them wirelessly like I’m some sort of living satellite?
3. Did this guy just tell me that he was about to get the *same*, no, MORE data than he did from both the endoscopies and colonoscopies combined from this pill that required only 6 oz of H2O and a radioactive tracker, evidently?
4. WHY DIDN’T WE JUST DO THIS ONE FIRST?
5. Would now be when my powers would finally reveal themselves, thus equipping me to fulfill my lifelong Superhero destiny?
6. I mean, it’s wonderful news I won’t need to wait 6 weeks to have a big scary procedure…..but also…..
7. THIS IS BULLSHIT. WHY DIDN’T WE DO THIS FIRST?
8. A shrunken camera cruising through the inside of my body sounds like the plot of an episode of The Magic School Bus.
9. Did he say there was a radioactive tracker?
a. In today’s modern times they couldn’t use a GPS signal?
b. Or maybe even just stick on one of those find-your-key beepy things?
c. Must the trackers always be radioactive?
d. Is there some sexy sales rep handing out loyalty punch cards for each dose of radiation administered?
10. Would I glow in the dark?
My brain was interrupted as they handed me the radioactive camera-pill, right then and there. I stared at it and noted the missed opportunity to make the pill bus-colored yellow.
I gulped the pill aka The Magic Shrunken School Bus down absolutely baffled by the entire appointment. Customarily, every test or medication or any and everything that needs to get done in the medical world takes an exorbitant amount of hoop jumping. Instant gratification wasn’t something I was accustomed to and I was delighted.
Not quite as delightful was examining my poop for the following two weeks in case I could visually spot my butt paparazzi. Apparently, these things are cheap enough to flush, no retrieval necessary. But we did need to make sure it found its way to the exit.
More radioactive waste in the sewers, where who knows? Maybe that’s where lighting bugs come from? I’m not a scientist but I haven’t seen proof that that is NOT how lighting bugs came to be so that is what I choose to believe.
I also choose to believe this camera pill made my dreams come true. I teleported! Can I control it yet? No, chill, I’m still learning, I’m a superhero noob. But it happened. On more than one occasion.
The first time I teleported, I was tucked into bed soundly, and then suddenly, I found myself in front of the opened pantry. It wasn’t a long-distance teleport, but I’m hoping it’s like a muscle that gets stronger with exercise.
The second time I appeared in the guest room bed and my phone teleported with me, which opens the door for me to potentially teleport all sorts of things. Once I am fully in control of my powers, that is.
Ms. Frizzle hit her next sphincter check point and continued to share my inner stalactites with my GI. I continued to be radioactive, instructed to not let anyone use the same toilet as me and go about my life as if my powers were not super charged and my skin wasn’t glowing. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s a radioactive tracer on a pill camera making its way through her digestive tract. Who’s to know.
Two weeks later and I returned for my follow up visit and x-ray. We were able to confirm Mini-Ms. Frizzle found her way to the exit ramp properly along with her radioactive tracker. She did a good job documenting my very own personalized magic school bus episode. My doctor noted some inflammation but no obvious cause of my stomach woes. Unremarkable.
They said the radiation left my body within days. I still feel like some days I can see a bit of iridescence, though. A little extra shimmer, maybe? A more logical person might be tempted to point out the very little amount of time I spend outside in the sunshine and my Anglo heritage, but I’m not convinced.
The tl:dr of the appointment:
No, I could not replace my nightlight with my radioactive shine.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Will Wythacay’s next run in with radiation activate flying abilities? Find out in Am I a Superhero Now: The Radioactive Chronicles: Part Three
Would you prefer to listen to my stories? If you're like me and audio is a better form of entertainment for you, listen to my stories on my podcast caseywythacay.
Are you shopping for your next literary adventure now? Consider Bookshop, an organization combining the convenience of online shopping and shipping with the desire to support local bookshops.
Since I am an affiliate marketer I receive a small commission on any purchases made through my link.
Don't see the title or format you're searching for? Contact me and I'll track it down for you!
Check it out at bookshop.org/shop/caseywythacay. Remember, it's .org, not .com, or make life simple, click now, and add it to your bookmarks!
Kommentare