Yes I was dead. But I got better. Thanks for asking.

To everyone who has sent me concerned emails or facebook messages these past few weeks. I really appreciate it. Thank you.

I know I haven't been around much, and when I have, my posts have been insipid and meaningless. I'm sorry about that.

I've been trying to get my health under control. I didn't want to come on here sounding like I'm whining again. I wanted to come back and write this wonderful, insightful, hilarious post, and then have everyone come racing back to me, telling me how much you missed me, and that your lives are now complete because of my inspiring words.

However. To be honest, I haven't been great. And I'm not going to sugar-coat it just because some people don't like narcissistic, "poor me" posts. The truth is I'm STILL waiting for a diagnosis as to why I am bleeding and in pain. I had another round of tests last week, another Gastroscopy, another CAT scan, more X-Rays, and, of course, the ever present blood tests. You'd think they'd come up with something more original by now.

I'm exhausted. And I'm pissed.

My arms have been totally massacred, and I look like a junkie.

So. Not. Cool.

See for yourself. This picture is the aftermath of them trying to put in a drip. It's a *bit* blurry, sorry, I took it with my left hand. And I was on drugs. And not even the good ones either.

The drip ended up in my other arm. Witness the beautiful job they did there too.

Oh, and here too.

Moving on...

The general consensus so far seems to be Diverticulitis, a condition that usually affects the elderly. Fan-f**king-tastic. Now I'm getting old before my time. Pretty soon I'll be wearing my pants tucked into my socks and telling Tomika to "turn that bloody music down!" Hang on... I already do that. Shit.

However, to throw another spanner in the works, the Gastroscopy showed three large (I'm talking 1cm each here people!), Gastric ulcers, and lots of polyps in my stomach and intestines. They took a biopsy to check for "the big C" among other things, and, you know, because everyone wants a piece of me, and apparently bleeding me dry like Vampires is no longer enough for them. Now they want my flesh too. Next thing I know they'll have me strapped unconscious to a sacrificial slab cutting me open... Wait... They already did that. I am tossing up whether my doctors are really Voodoo medicine men in disguise, or bloody ghouls. Either way I'm pretty sure I'm a goner.

It's the waiting that's killing me. Not knowing what is wrong. I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I asked the doctors the other day why they didn't just Cryogenically freeze me, and bring me back when they work out what's wrong. I thought that it was a wonderful idea. But they dashed my dreams of being frozen and hung on the wall like Han Solo, by telling me that would defeat the purpose as they needed me to let them know my symptoms so that they can diagnose me. Apparently you can't talk when you're frozen, or so they tell me. Go figure.

Whatever. I reckon they're just sadistic.

Anyway, gotta go. I'm meeting my Gastroenterologist.

I think I'm getting the results of my biopsy... I want to know, and yet some part of me doesn't. Wow, conflicted much?

Wish me luck!

P.S. (Here's a little giggle-worthy pressie for you. These are the undies they made me wear during the procedure, (photo taken before I put them on, promise!), I laughed for at least half an hour.)

Everybody sing, ♪♪I'm too sexy for my undies, too sexy for my undies, so sexy it hurts...♪♪

This Is NOT For The Faint Hearted...

 
Or children. Or married people. Or little old ladies with sensibilities that offend very easily. In fact it's pretty much purely for my own voyeuristic pleasure. Sue me.

You will need sound... and possibly a cold shower.

Ok. I'm done now. Seriously.

I'm obsessed... i.e. Find me a REAL man STAT!

  

Okay so all this doctor ordered rest and relaxation has done wild and crazy things to me and, more importantly... and weirdly... my libido.

In my utterly bored pain-killer fueled internet surfing I have found, wait for it ladies...

The gorgeous Mr Wentworth Earl Miller III*. And he's LEGAL!!! In fact, he's older than me, so more the better. I have actually spent countless hours looking at pictures of him. Pathetic huh? I feel like a moronic teenager with a star-filled-eye crush!

The most beautiful man in the world!
A man so perfectly formed, it's as if he were sculpted by the Gods themselves...



And if that's not enough to convince you, how about this one?

*sigh*

However, until such time as I have a real live red-blooded man that I can touch and...sniff and...stuff.... I am declaring to the world at large.

Ms Befuddled... is in luurve!

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* See my post about Prison Break. Apparently Went stuck in my head after watching this for some sexy strange reason...

OH DEAR GOD KILL ME. KILL ME NOW...

Ok. So remember the pain scale* I talked about in my last post? The one where I said I was currently sitting on a (6)?

Scrap that. I had to venture out into the REAL world today. I had to actually DRIVE my old dilapidated manual 1985 Mazda, which is an adventure at the best of times...

So right now I'm hovering around a (13).

I'm pretty sure that means I'm dying.

Tell my daughter I love her.........

___________
* Thanks again to Allie.

SOO... Apparently my poo-shooter exploded.

 

(True story. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.)

Well. After being deathly ill for days on end, and constantly telling the Doctors that something wasn't right... And after treating me for my apparent burst cyst for 5 days, the Doctors in their infinite wisdom realised that I wasn't responding to the meds (if you can call a morphine drip meds. Not that I'm really complaining, it almost made up for it, in a woozy, smiley, "What's your name again? Tomika? Pfft. Yeah right!", kinda way), and that totally didn't satisfy them so they decided to do some more tests.

Big. Bloody. Mistake. Seriously.

After poking and prodding me in MOST unpleasant ways, they finally came up with ANOTHER correct diagnosis. Apparently I don't have a burst cyst. Probably.

I guess, Doc, that I was right, Doc, after all. Doc! I can tell the difference between pain in my girly bits, and pain in my... other... bits. I am not a complete moron. I have had a cyst burst on my right ovary that resulted in a miscarriage when I was younger. I know what that feels like. Doc.

Where is MY Dr House when I need him!!!

So the diagnosis TODAY stands at an infected large intestine, with a side order of inflamed bowel, and a glass of fluid on my left lung. A diagnosis however that despite my best efforts, they didn't come to until after I started bleeding from every orifice EXCEPT the one they predicted, and mostly from my... ahem... back-passage. Go figure.

Anyway, I'm out of the clink for now, I got discharged the other day. But I'm back in on Tuesday for more tests, a Gastroscopy, Colonoscopy, and something else I can't remember the name of but I'm sure will be extremely invasive and forced upon my person without benefit of having been bought dinner beforehand...

Fingers crossed they'll find the culprit and I can commence kicking IT'S butt for a change, instead of it kicking mine. Literally.

(Seriously though, I'd like to thank the nurses at both hospitals for the wonderful care they took of me while I was there. Especially Zac in Austin Emergency who sat and cuddled me while I cried when none of the pain killers were working. And Julie the night nurse at the Mercy Women's who spoiled me rotten, and woke me up every 2 hours through the night for my medications so that I wouldn't wake up in the morning in agony. Thanks heaps. Really.)

With that, I shall leave you with some lovely images of my stay in casa del Mercy, and the Austin plaza for your enjoyment.

Wish me luck!

__________

* The following photo's relate to my previous post. You might want to go have a read if you already haven't. But then if you haven't already read this post, you don't know what the hell I am rambling about, and I should probably just shut up now...

Beautiful beautiful morphine drip, what ever would I do without you...

See those horses? Yes, them. They are NOT horses, they are Unicorns with Bourbon in their horns. And apparently the only way to get the bourbon out is to cut the tip off the horn, grab the mane, stick your hand up it's bum and pour like a teapot... Yeah. I don't know either.

Oh and Jesus there? Minding his own business right? Wrong. He has a skipping rope, and his crucifix is a pogo stick so that he can jump rope... Yep. No idea.

Gotta love that morphine!

I think at this point I should explain my pain situation.

This is a normal pain scale... *1

However, This more accurately expresses how I felt at the time...

Revised pain scale... *2

I fluctuated between (8) and (too serious for numbers). Yeah. Nice huh? Currently I'm sitting on a (6).

Can someone email me some drugs?

__________

*1. Current International pain rating scale. See below for interpretation. *3

*2. Pain rating scale that should be globally recognised for it's accuracy. See below for interpretation. *4

*3. 0:  Haha!  I'm not wearing any pants! 

2:  Awesome!  Someone just offered me a free hot dog!
4:  Huh.  I never knew that about giraffes.
6:  I'm sorry about your cat, but can we talk about something else now?  I'm bored.
8:  The ice cream I bought barely has any cookie dough chunks in it.  This is not what I expected and I am disappointed.
10:  You hurt my feelings and now I'm crying!

*4. 0:  Hi.  I am not experiencing any pain at all.  I don't know why I'm even here.  

1:  I am completely unsure whether I am experiencing pain or itching or maybe I just have a bad taste in my mouth.
2:  I probably just need a Band Aid.
3:   This is distressing.  I don't want this to be happening to me at all.
4:  My pain is not fucking around.
5:   Why is this happening to me??
6:   Ow.  Okay, my pain is super legit now.

7:  I see Jesus coming for me and I'm scared.  (<== Refer to above photo of Jesus, I'm seeing pattern here...)
8:  I am experiencing a disturbing amount of pain.  I might actually be dying.  Please help.
9:   I am almost definitely dying.
10:  I am actively being mauled by a bear.
11:  Blood is going to explode out of my face at any moment.
Too Serious For Numbers:   You probably have ebola, or stomach AIDS.  It appears that you may also be suffering from Stigmata and/or pinkeye

*5.  Pain scale pictures and interpretations by the wonderfully talented Allie at Hyperbole and a Half. Check her out, she's hilarious! And scarily accurate... GET OUT OF MY HEAD ALLIE!!!