June 5, 1996
I've been having a little stomach trouble recently. Make that a lot of stomach trouble -- constant indigestion, gagging, disinterest in food (including chocolate when I feel bad enough, which was a sure sign of a problem). I was forever looking for some carbonated drink in order to relieve the pressure in my stomach with loud, satisfying, and horribly rude burps. A friend of mine who's a doctor said that it sounded like a hiatal hernia to her and I'd better go get it checked out. Sounded bad. Sounded technical. I made an appointment with my GP.
She asked, "Are you under a lot of stress?"
I kept myself from responding, Well, I do live in California in the last decade of the Twentieth Century. Instead I said, "Not any more than usual."
She scheduled a swallowing exam for me. All this exam would do would be to show what, if anything, was going on, like did I have that hernia.
My stomach problems vanished immediately, of course. No gagging, little if any indigestion and gas over the week between seeing her and the coming exam. Maybe this is all psychosomatic, I thought. After all, I know I am a head case. If I were a baseball player, I'd be a left-handed pitcher, if you know what I mean.
The swallowing test consists of
The doctor handed me a small cup with bicarbonate crystals and another cup filled with water. "Okay, swallow these and wash them down with the water," he told me. "You're going to feel like burping, but don't."
Burping has been one of my great joys recently. He had no idea what he was asking. I swallowed the crystals and the water and started burping immediately. I couldn't help it. Honestly. Large, satisfying burps. I apologized with a large grin on my face.
I then stood in front of the x-ray screen and held a large cup filled with lots of barium shake. The doctor and technician loaded plates into the machine and aimed it right at my esophagus.
"Okay, drink!" Uck, I thought, this does taste like milk of magnesia. flash
"Okay, drink!" Just drink it, that's what you're here for. You can have a nice cafe mocha when you're done. flash
"Okay, drink!" This will be over soon, Diane, come on, you can do this. flash
"Okay, drink!"
Perhaps the gagging always has been psychosomatic, but thankfully it showed up on cue, possibly induced by fear of bland chalky tastes. I started gagging uncontrollably. I hoped, in between retches, that the doctor was getting some good images of this.
The whole table tilted backwards, and I had to roll over a couple of times to coat my whole stomach with whatever barium got down there. Ever tried to roll over and over on a hard metal table wearing nothing but a hospital gown and try to maintain your dignity. Sure, Martha Stewart could do it, but what about me and you? Can't be done. How embarrassing. The doctor kept closing my gown for me.
The next set of photos were of me lying on my side -- "A thirty-degree angle," the doctor said, and as I forgot my protractor I did my best. They handed me another cup, this time with a "thinner barium shake" in it. It may have been 8 in the morning and I may have been wearing little more than a piece of paper, but my IQ hadn't dropped that much. Thinner barium shake my ass...which was, after all, peeking out the back of my gown.
I tried to take the big gulps they asked for, truly I did. I got through about three swallows before the retching started again.
Pretty soon it was over, without so much as something to wash my mouth out with or an exchange of phone numbers. The nurse came by my dressing cubicle a while later to tell me that they had all the shots they needed and I could get dressed now.
I hope this was good enough, 'cause there is no way in hell I am doing that again. As I told Darin, Maybe this problem in eating and indigestion will help me lose weight and be thin enough to fit in in Los Angeles.
Darin rolled his eyes and refused to dignify that comment with a response.
