Category Archives: Advice from an Expert Patient

Hey Doc? What’d Ya Say?

Even an expert patient like me forgets stuff.  Yup, it’s true.  Sorry to disappoint you.

I don’t know about you, but generally, when I go to the doctor, I’m not at my best. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be there.

You see, on bad days things change for me from one minute to the next.  And by “things” I mean my ability to be able to comprehend what I’m reading, what I’m writing ( 😦 ), and especially what I’m hearing.  When I feel awful, I can’t focus on what you’re saying.  And I’m certainly not going to remember it.  I’m not going to write it down, and if I did, I am not going to be able to read what I wrote.  So naturally, I’m not going to do what I just paid half a month’s salary to have a doctor tell me to do.

Most days I am a highly functioning individual.  Smarter than the average bear.  On other days, I’m not.  On those bad days, the bear turns into a sloth and I become a blithering idiot.  Usually diarrhea is involved, and I must say that I often feel like I flush a lot of brain mater.  Luckily, it recycles, but the image is pretty yucky.

Sadly, I’m not the only one.

Sick people as a general rule, sick people are not smart people because they’re sick, feverish, nauseated, dehydrated, cancerous.  People in pain are not smart people.  When you hurt, when you’re weak, when you can no longer lift your head because of the pain, well, it’s hard to listen.

Naturally, that’s when it is most important.

Because that’s when you go to the doctor, when you go to the ER, when you learn what you need to do to feel better.   But you’re sick so you never remember what you’re supposed to do.  Or in what order to do it.  Or for how long to do it.  Or if it goes inside or outside that orifice…

So when I read this article earlier today in the New York Times, I thought — what a great idea!  Record the instructions!

Now why didn’t I think of that?

We all have electronic devices with us at all time.  Use the damn things!  If instructions are recorded,  you can replay the instructions when you forget what you’re supposed to do,  and it’s just like you’re back there in the doctor’s office.  You have a better chance of doing it right.  Just as if you had a personal doctor or nurse right there reminding you just what to do and how to do it.

Some doctors don’t like the idea.  They worry (not unreasonably) about malpractice.  But frankly, compliance with doctor’s instructions is a big problem in patient care.  And this seems to me an excellent recipe for making sure you do what the doctor tells you to do.

Now if I can just figure out how to use the audio on my phone ….

 

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Why Didn’t I Think Of That?

Hello, yeah, it’s been a while.  Not much, how ’bout you?

There really is no reason.  In fact, this particular post is over due.  I had blog backup and no plunger.

***

For my first post back after a long break, you know I’m goin’ there.  But that is why you came, isn’t it?

Yup.  I read an article.  Several articles actually.  My bad.

This one provides important information to the travelers among us.

The Best Time To Poop On A Plane, According To A Flight Attendant

I will summarize for you, because I have experience in this matter.

The best time to poop on a plane is right after the seat belt light goes off or when the drinks cart comes.  The first is usually pretty early in the flight, so really, you should have taken care of that before you got on the plane.  Unless you’re me — and then you did it then, too.

Second, is a story about a man with whom I should have had children.  We could certainly reach a happy medium:

Doctors remove 28 POUNDS of feces from man, 22, who was constipated

Poop -- HUGE

I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t be cradling 28-29 lbs of poop quite so tenderly.  But perhaps that’s just me.Enter a caption

Lastly, the third story, required by the peculiarities of comedy writing, is something I am shaking my head about, well, my butt tto, because really — I should have thunk of this idea first.  If ever a business model stinks of “Elyse,” well, this is it:

A poop-themed restaurant is about to break wind in Toronto*

Yup.  A business model that practically screams “ELYSE!!!” Here’s the ummmm, scoop on it.

Toronto’s new Poop Café will feature a “unique selection of desserts from around the world,” according to a Facebook post from the café’s profile. While the restaurant will serve dishes that are brown and shaped like poop (kind of like the poop emoji), not every dish will look like feces.

I for one am glad that not all of this restaurant’s dishes will look like poop. That’s important to me in the pre-poop stage of nutrient intake.  I like to have a wee bit of anticipation on that score.

Soft serve chocolate.

Not half bad.  Unless it’s been digested first.  Google image.

 

*My apologies to my Canadian friends.  Just when you guys are basking in the glory of a delightful leader, I go and laugh at your poop cafe.  Sorry.  But it IS a poop-themed cafe.  What did you want me to do?

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Warning. Do not try this at home. Or anywhere else.

Yes, I realize that it’s been a while since I granted you all the benefits of my fake medical expert advice.  Sorry.

It’s just that poop news has been rather crappy lately.  What’s a specialist to do?

So for this post, I’m going to go out on a ledge.  Write what I don’t know.  Venture into a whole ‘nuther area of specialization.  I feel qualified because this area of specialty is in the same, errrr,  ball park.  Geographically speaking.  Certainly based on adolescent conversation, anyway.

You see, I read an article recently that inspired me to post after a pretty long hiatus

Doctors warn women against putting wasp nests in their vaginas

Now I don’t know about you, but this particular insert isn’t one I’ve personally ever considered.  Maybe I’m just weird.

To be fair to the women who have done this mind-bending medical procedure, the procedure does not involve vaginal insertion of a wasp nest that looks like this one, with buzzing wasps going in and out:

Wasp nest.jpg

Image by ABC Wildlife

On the other hand, maybe something buzzing and going in and out is the whole idea behind the procedure.  But I digress.

Actually, the procedure involves ground up wasp eggs called “galls.”

170601-wasp-nest-vagina

This is a Getty Image, copied from the article

These are Oak leaf “galls” in case you want to make your own.

Galls are wasp larvae, left on the bottoms of oak leaves.  They are ground up and inserted into the vagina to tighten it and to cleanse it.  Okay …

As a fake medical expert, I think I  can safely say that this sounds like a particularly shitty idea.

You know, it never occurred to me that there might be a need to warn women to not put wasp nests, even ground up wasp nests, into their vaginas.

Then again, I never thought it would be necessary to tell women to not vote for a man who believed he could grab their vagina because he was famous, either.

My bad.

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My New-ish Expertise

Being a fake medical expert has become a bit passe, frankly.  And that expertise came after my rarely discussed time as environmental science expertise honed as a lowly paralegal/legislative & regulatory assistant/lobbyist.

So I figure I’m ready for a new challenge.  And just in time for World IBD Day, I’m takin’ on physics!

The Physics of Poop, of course.  And I think you will agree that I do have the expertise.  And the, ummm, credentials.  And I don’t have to go far for sample collection.

You see, there’s an article I read.  (Of course there’s an article.)

The Physics of Poop

You know it’s a good article, because this is the photo that accompanies the article:

Elephant Poop

This critter has nothin’ on me.  Except maybe on my shoes  Credit: Barry Kusama Getty Images

The authors, David Hu and Patricia Yang, studied poop every which way but Sunday.  Well, maybe Sunday, too.  Because there are some chores that simply must be done 7 days a week.

They discovered that herbivores produced “floaters” and carnivores plopped “sinkers.”  And apparently “stinkers” too, as tigers apparently have the stinkiest poop and panda poop is positively precious.

Bigger animals, not surprisingly, are more prodigious poopers, but interestingly, the speed of poop production is similar regardless of the size of the animal:

Assuming a bell curve distribution, 66 percent of animals take between 5 and 19 seconds to defecate. It’s a surprisingly small range, given that elephant feces have a volume of 20 liters, nearly a thousand times more than a dog’s, at 10 milliliters.

In all honesty, the attraction of the article wasn’t the significant increase in my already vast knowledge and understanding of poop.

Nope. There were two reasons.

First, it’s the fact that this article alerted me to the existence of NASA’s

Space Poop Challenge

I think you will admit that I should be an automatic contender.

More importantly, this article gave me something to write about to celebrate World IBD Day.  And while I personally celebrate every day, you, personally can have fun with poop on World IBD Day.  Don’t say I never gave you anything.

***

But WAIT!  There’s MORE!  After this post went to press, I found this article.

When Birds of a Feather Poop Together

Golly.  Studying poop has become a 24/7 commitment for me.

You’re welcome.

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Why No, Thank You

The art of letter writing is dead, and it makes me sad.  Whenever I read history or biography, I think of the loss to mankind and to history of all of the letters we never exchange — emails aren’t the same.  And even still, it is likely that only Hillary Clinton’s emails will be kept.

Greeting cards are few and far between too.  I used to love to spend time searching stores for just the right one with just the right message.  Today, though, good ones are hard to find, and it just never seems that I can get to one of the three stores left in the continental U.S. that sells good ones when I need one.

Thank you cards too.  I once read that the key to George H.W. Bush’s success was that he always sent thank you notes.  But nobody ever sends those any more.

Or so I thought.  But today I go this in the mail:

Thank You Georgetown

A thank you card from the hospital where I let them shove tools up my butt. Inside it thanks me for letting me have them abuse my body.  (Or something like that.)  Not something you hear of every day.

You see, on Wednesday, I had my annual tuneup, a sigmoidoscopy, performed in the hospital so that Dr. C can check out the plumbing.  They aren’t really so bad, and they give me good drugs so I’m asleep and wake up refreshed.  I usually feel quite good afterwards in fact.

This time I felt even better, though.  Because my doctor told me that she thinks I’m in remission!  That means no active disease!  Whoo-hoo.  Even without a poop transplant or drinking worm larvae.  Cool.

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