Diverticulitis
It's the diagnosis I got yesterday, but I've been having the same abdominal pain on and off for about seven years. When it first happened, I was living in Northern California and went to see a doctor who specialized in treating pilots and all things aviation related. He prescribed Prevacid, describing it as a miracle drug. I could only imagine it helped his pilots "hold it" on long flights. It did nothing for me.
Years later, I saw a highly recommended gastroenterologist at Cedar-Sinai. He raved about how, on certain islands, the natives crap five or six times a day, their bodies are loaded with bacteria but they're FINE. He gave me no tests and sent me on my way.
Every once in a while, I would go on antibiotics for some unrelated reason, and my stomach would clear up. Other than that, I was in some degree of pain. Smoking marijuana would alleviate a lot of the symptoms, but how long could I tolerate the side effects of enhanced creativity and a general sense of well being?
Last week I had what I now realize was an acute attack. Sunday, Bernie finally convinced me to get it checked out. So I drove on over to the Old Actors Home.
The Motion Picture & Television Fund Hospital in Woodland Hills is an amazing place. I can drop in with my Writers Guild card anytime and pay ten dollars to see a doctor (it's a generous plan and one reason I wasn't so exited about the recent strike).
My regular doctor wasn't there yesterday, but I got the guy on call in about ten minutes. He had an odd, somewhat ghoulish bedside manner and an intellectual curiosity I've found to be rare in doctors. He asked all the right questions, then shared his suspicions. He said one of the causes of diverticulitis is a childhood diet high on processed foods and low on fiber. Here was my childhood diet:
Cheerios (Rice Krinkles came later)
Hamburgers (cheese came later)
Macaroni and Cheese (preceding the cheese on hamburgers by a good few years)
The doctor said the short term treatment is antibiotics. When I told him how antibiotics have helped me in the past, he practically jumped out of his chair with excitement. "Fascinating!" he boomed. He ordered up some tests right away. But then his mood darkened.
In rare cases, surgery is required, he warned, when there's an abscess that won't go away. He leaned forward, fully engaged, as if ready to spring--the same position he would soon take to check my prostate. "It's a messy surgery," the doctor began eagerly, "as is any operation involving the bowels..."
Down the hall, in radiology, I was completely unprepared for what happened next. It was a CAT scan, preceded by a barium enema, administered by a man who was terrified I was going to shit on the table.
"You're going to feel like you have to go to the bathroom," he said, as he blew up a balloon in my ass. "You can't do it."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I said, panicked. "I'm here for my stomach, it's not good, it's bad, this is crazy. I can't make any promises."
"You can't do it."
"Does it happen sometimes? Here on the table?"
"It happens."
Well, I held it like a pilot on Prevacid. The doctor got the results, and it confirmed his hypothesis. I have diverticulitis (but not the dreaded abscesses). I got the meds from the pharmacy on site, and I was out of the hospital within a couple hours of my arrival. The fact that all this happened on the same day is amazing to me.
A final note: While I was getting my blood taken, I asked the technician about the big new building. Bernie and I had been wondering what it was while it was being built. He said it's a gym with an indoor pool, for the residents and employees. And it was paid for by Jodie Foster. Has anyone heard anything about this? As far as I know, she hasn't sought a bit of publicity.
Labels: breakfast cereal, health, Jodie Foster, poop
posted by John Levenstein at
12:53 PM
17 Comments:
I can't help but comment on a few interesting things here. Let me say before that, however, I am glad you are not suffering from the kind that requires the horrific surgery
First, Cheerios were a big part of my childhood diet as well. I've already got G.E.R.D (otherwise known as acid reflux) so I'm hoping the diverticulitis steers clear. Pravacid did ZERO for me. Protonix is my wonder drug.
Second, this blog has had "poop" as a tag twice this last few days. Is there a trend starting here?
Third, Bernie and I had an in depth discussion about sewage pipes today. Maybe there is just something in the air.
i've been thinking about that. all of our issues around the house have been septic-related, and now this. i usually look at the existing labels and use what applies. poop applied!
i also looked carefully at the labels to jack's last post. i could have used "regular" but "regulars" seemed like a reach.
Here I had thought your marijuana prescription was for malaise.
Curiously, the wikipedia entry on "malaise" jumps right into the adminstration of first aid:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malaise
Great story, but it would be just a tiny bit better if Jodie Foster had given you the barium enema.
People, please eat fiber. Fiber comes from plant material.
i didn't know jodie foster in college (she was a freshman when i was a senior), but there were two times after i graduated that a crazy woman screamed excitedly at me from a car on sunset blvd. i looked at her blankly both times, then later realized it was jodie foster.
I was with John one of those times. He exagerates slightly - she wasn't screaming excitedly. It was, I think, 1982. We were in John's old Audi Fox (a black eye on the brand name that Audi has been trying hard, and quite successfully, to live down ever since). This Audi was pretty much the color of dog crap. Anyway, we were driving east on Sunset at night somewhere around the Fairfax area. Don't remember where we were going but have my suspicions. John driving - we're in the right lane (John's always bin somewhat cautious at the wheel). We are at a stoplight and a black Porsche pulls up next to us. I glance over and there are a couple of foxy young women in the car (blondes both). Suddenly, the one in the passenger seat starts waving and smiling and pointing at John! Holy Shit! Then I realize it's Jodie Foster. John, I say, Jodie Foster is waving at you! I'm very excited - instantly convinced this could lead somewhere very interesting. I was, at the time, blissfully unaware of Ms. Foster's sexual preferences. John barely glances over, gives a somewhat embarrassed sort of quarter-smile (it looked more like he had gas) and a bit of the royal wave, and looks straight ahead for the light to turn green. The Porsche speeds off. John, I exclaim, why didn't you say something or roll the window down or something? Jesus!! My dreams of a really interesting evening (and maybe marriage to Jodie Foster - my marriage, not John's) ignited and extinguished in virtually less than 15 seconds. I don't remember what he said.
Actually, I just realized we were on Wilshire - not Sunset.
and that she was screaming her fucking head off!
Jodie Foster reacted to you that way, as I remember it, because as a freshman she saw the comedy revues that you and Michael Kaplan put on, and loved them. Is that correct?
Why did you snub her when you were driving on Wilshire?
How could John even know she recognized him? What if she thought he was somebody else?
she may have thought i was someone else. she did come to one of my shows in college.
Robert,
It was obvious that she recognized John because of the very successful and critically touted comedy revues that he, Michael Kaplan, and others had put on at Yale. Remember, at that point, he was also costarring in those productions. The reason John "snubbed" her is because he is a geek. : )
As I remember it, she didn't just come to one of your shows: you heard through the grapevine that she loved your show.
Totally unrelated: I like how the word diverticulitis has parts that sound sort of like divert and tickle right in the middle of it. It's like those cute little bacteria are diverting you by tickling the insides of your intestines!
I think she was just making fun of your car.
I found some information about diverticulitis. Check it out!
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