Dyspepsia

Yesterday, I had yet another one of my major stomach attacks(notice how I'm no longer calling them ulcers), and a repeat check up with Doctor Bhalla was immediately ordered. Coupled with this, I had also managed to sprain my back yesterday, in circumstances that are well...to embarrasing to mention on this blog. You can ask all you like, I still won't tell you.
Anyhow, on with it. This lack of physical motion, and extreme pain I was in yesterday lead me not to study at all for the Maths test series, so it was much relief that my appointment was at one o clock, and thus meant that I could not go and give the dangnammy test after all. But, on the other hand, it was a doctors appointment, and I am not particularly keen on those. I have a paranoid dislike of hospitals, clinics or anything else that smells of Phenol, and I especially don't like visiting them when I am the patient. Anyhow, so we arrive at 2, sharp, and wait for a right hour till three before I'm given a look see. So the Doc re-examines me, after seven eight months, or whenver the last time I visited was. I forget these things, I have a terrible memory, as I found out today; in completely unrelated circumstances.
Anyhow,I must continue. I was rediagnosed with Peptic Ulcers, as I showed all the symptoms of them, but the Doc wasn't very convinced this time,so decided to have a look see, in the very literal sense. In the interim, he prescribed me some hundred medines for the next one month, which I am supposed to have before, on or after my meals, depending which one it actually is. The whole thing is a darn sight too confusing for such a simple mind as mine, and I hope either of my parents, who have experience with this entire medication business, will help me in adhering to the regimen.
Furthermore, I was ordered to get and Endoscopy done, which is a big fancy medical term for shoving a camera tube down your mouth. The above mentioned thing was at six, at Panscheel Park, which gave me just enough time to scoot back from Noida Medical Center, reach home, and do nothing for an hour.
I reach the place promptly at five to six, and with all the filling of the forms, and putting on weird kurta-smock, it's a good fifteen mins before the doc arrives. He then explains the procedure very nicely, which I shall put into non-medical terms for your benefit.
"Right, what I'm going to do is shove this thing down your throat. When I so "when", swallow this pipe, and It'll slide right down. Actually, it won't, haha, I'm kidding, but count to a hundred, and it'll be over, Promise."
He then told me that if I wanted, I could be sedated, or as he put it "Knocked Out". I said no thank you, I wasn't going to have any more drugs shoved into me, and I quite enjoy the experience of being able to feel my whole body, unconciousness doesn't become me. The smock like kurta however, does, or at least my father claims so.
Anyhow, right at the moment the tube's going in, my Bua decides to pop in, so I have now three family members in room with me, for some odd reason. I thought this was a bit too much, so I shoo'ed them all out, parental concern is all very well, but I'd rather not have my entire family collected around going ooh and aah while viewing the contents of my belly. Honestly, it's a challenge to get the three of them on the dinner table at the same time, but Endoscopy, sure they'll all show up at once.
Anyhow, the tube goes in, I swallow, and it's in my throat. Now, the last thing your throat wants at this moment is a tube down it, so it immediately decides to try to vomit it out. Except, there's one small problem with all this. The tube CANNOT be vomited out, as it's pretty much gone in all the way to your stomach, and is now taking pleasant shots of your Ileum, duodenum, and tumdiddlydum(Fine, I invented the last one).
Ah, so right at the moment the picture taking begins, Doc Bhalla calls in Bua, as a fellow medical persona, for a nice insight of the life and times of Bhavya's Stomach lining. "See!" he excitedly claims, "the remanents of the Kadi Chawal you ate for lunch. Now we will take a look at the region where the H Pilori usually lies. Oooooh, it's healthy pink, but very inflammed."
After what seemed like an eternity of poking and prodding, he decides it's time to take his sample, so snip goes some knife like thing, and that's that. The tube is retracted, and I'm finally allowed to vomit out, except I have nothing to be ejected. It's a real dissapointment, I'll have you know.
So, once it's done, I'm offered the VCR of the live coverage of my innards. After having one look at the replay, I politely decline, telling the man that the last thing I want to do on a lazy sunday afternoon is take a look at that again. In hindsight, the video might make a very interesting present to anyone who wants to know the inner me. But, the opportunity is lost, now.
So, after taking the sample, and the good look around, it turns out that I don't have peptic ulcers, just Dyspesia, which means my stomach produces more acid than a seventies Hippie convention, and this acid manages to corrode my stomach every so often. The upside of all this is that instead of a hundred medicines, I now only have to have 98.
Anyhow, I return home, and the local anesthetic that was applied to my throat wears off, and I find out how much having a large tube down your food pipe can hurt. Additionally, there's a bit of my stomach that is missing, and without the numbing effects of an analgesic, that becomes quite noticeable.
But anyhow, all is, finally, well and life will go on. Even if I am on pills for the next six months, and on what the Doc likes to call "SOS Drugs" for pretty much the rest of my life.
His parting shot was, "What you need is not medication, but meditation."
Well, nyem ho ho renge kyoh to all of you, then.