Good news, everyone

[dreamer_easy]

Had a great old chat with the gastroenterologist. The last time I saw him, ten years ago, I was a trembling little creature who panicked at the thought of needles or operations. This time we were both "Bring on the -oscopies!" He wants to have a good rummage around in my innertubes and see if he can find out what's broken: I'm having what the professionals apparently refer to as a "top and tail" on the 25th inst. Holy flaming cow!

"Let's get you sorted out, Kate," he said. Blimey. I've been on Questran for more than half my life. I've never been told exactly what's wrong with me. The doc says this is because so many conditions are subtle and complicated and so difficult to diagnose. I reckon it's also because I've been running away from anything to do with medical procedures for decades. It's only in recent years that I've even started reading online about it, and you know what a research junky I am.

Frankly, I'm petrified. It's not the despair, it's the hope!

(Gods, I'm getting tough in my extreme old age. Got option-clicked at by a couple of superior white anti-racists today, and was merely annoyed, instead of being reduced to terrified snivelling. Hell of a change from two years ago. Tho I am now curious about opportunities to discuss racism with POC IRL.)

Comments

[qthewetsprocket.livejournal.com]

I'm having what the professionals apparently refer to as a "top and tail" on the 25th inst.

the doctor who did mine called it a 'double dip'. which makes me think of ice cream, and just...no. :P anyway, best of luck! i made them use the smaller sized scope on me (the one they use for children) when i went in, and that probably made some difference. here's hoping they find whatever ails you! :)

(btw, the 25th of inst? never heard of that month before...though now i want there to be one, just because the date sounds so cool)

[brewsternorth.livejournal.com]

It must be an old usage - it's in Compton Mackenzie's book Whisky Galore, when a bar in the Western Isles of Scotland receives a snippy letter, couched in very bureaucratic language, upbraiding them for defeatist talk overheard by their informant during a time of whisky shortage. "Inst" and "ult" are used, much to the locals' confusion.