We surveyed three so-called doctors and asked, “How many needles have you jammed into Jim’s arms in the month of June?” The top answer is on the board. Survey said… 15! Yes, fifteen fucking needles! Holy Mother of Chris Chambers, my arms look like I’ve been speedballing! Over the past month, I’ve been stuck for allergy blood tests, intravenous contrast, an arterial blood gas test, phlebotomies, and numerous CBCs. It’s a good goddamn thing I don’t have trypanophobia, huh? Seriously, look at the size of a 16-gauge needle compared to a US penny. It’s fucking huge! Funny thing, though, the nurses that stick me with that railroad spike of a needle are professionals. They leave a small scab and slight bruising that disappears within a week. The lab techs, however, are amateurs! They stick me with a tiny 22-gauge needle to draw blood for a CBC, yet blow my vein out frequently leaving a giant hematoma. Look at this cell phone photo! Jesus, I look like a domestic violence victim!

Last time I told you that I had an abdominal ultrasound to check the size of my liver and spleen. Luckily I didn’t have hepatosplenomegaly, but we were no closer to finding the cause of the polycythemia vera my hematologist believes I may have. So, I was referred to a pulmonologist who put me through several uncomfortable tests.

The first was an Echocardiogram. Just like the abdominal ultrasound of my liver and spleen, the cardiac sonographer slathered me with conductive goo and jammed the transducer into my ribs and chest. I like it rough, baby! After the first pass, he injected me with two milliliters of a microbubble contrast called Definity. Did you know it only takes about four seconds for blood to completely circulate your body? I didn’t. Anyway, I guess the frequency of the sound waves bursts the microbubbles after a while, so he pushed another 2 mL to finish the job. Of course, it wasn’t until a few weeks later that I read Definity can kill. Awesome! Can you imagine being killed by bubbles which are smaller than red blood cells? We are such frail, gentle snowflakes. According to the pulmonologist, my heart is okay. Finally! Now I can have bacon on my Ultimate Cheeseburger!

Next on the “Let’s See How Much We Can Bilk From His Insurance” list of procedures was a couple of Pulmonary Function Tests; spirometric tests and a body plethysmograph. The spirometric tests measure a bunch of shit my lungs should be doing; like how much I blow, how fast I blow, how much I suck, and other headache inducing functions. For the plethysmograph, I was locked in a sealed glass booth that reminded me of the Grab-O-Lux that killed Kenny, and tried to suck air through a mouthpiece. Here’s a shitty cell phone picture of the booth. The purpose of this was to measure the volume within my lungs using Boyle's Law to determine if I have any disease or airway restrictions in my lungs. What did these tests prove? I have asthma! DUH!

Then I had an appointment for a polysomnogram, a fancy word for “sleeping in a strange bed with wires on my head as some creepy voyeuristic weirdo watches me with infrared cameras.” Here’s a frightening photo of me wired up for my session of peeping tomfoolery. The sleep study was ordered to determine if sleep apnea might be causing any breathing issues. I don’t think I have sleep apnea, but what the fuck do I know? I feel like I get restorative sleep at night, I don’t have daytime sleepiness, and Tina says I don’t stop breathing at night (she ought to know, she has insomnia and watches/listens to me sleep). I thought for sure I would never be able to sleep with all that gadgetry soldered to my cranuim. But four hours sleep the night before coupled with no caffeine for two days put me out like a… draining battery. Result of the sleep study? Doc says I have a slight touch of sleep apnea. Yeah, right.

After a follow-up with the pulmonologist, I was scheduled for a chest CT. This wasn’t going to be fun. A chest CT is equivalent to 58 chest X-rays. Holy shitballs! I was sure I was going to have gills, or a third nipple by the time I got home. Anyway, I had to drive to Everett for the CT scan. My paperwork said to show up 15 minutes early and expect the procedure to last an hour. My scheduled appointment time came and went, I had already stood in a hallway 15 minutes waiting to check-in while some casino indian fuckstain frustrated the admissions woman, who was obviously new. Finally, “Chief Sits With Hemorrhoids” was done, and I was able to check in. I wasn’t seated for a minute, before they called my name, and instantly my sphincter slammed shut like the blast doors at NORAD. They led me into a room where the CT scanner was and told me to lay down on “couch,” face down. Uh, excuse me? The couch? It was a skinny little table. I was somewhat surprised they didn’t make me empty my pockets, take off my shoes, or rub my belly and pat my head before laying down on the “couch.” They quickly told me to listen to the breathing queues, and began the scan, like they were late to a lunch date. What the hell? The couch lifted my fat ass up and positioned me in front of the opening. Then the couch moved me into the opening, then somewhat quickly moved me in and out, like I was a huge dildo being thrust into a giant radioactive minge. When the actual scan was taking place, the couch moved me in a few inches at a time, pausing to take a series of image slices as the X-ray tubes rotated around me. After two scans, they had me turn over face up on the couch and proceeded to irradiate me again. Bring on the freak tail! After the scan, they bum rushed me out the door and I was walking to my truck. Jesus! Did I step in shit and reek to high hell? The scan took less time than I spent waiting for Chief Takes Too Long. On the way home, I stopped and picked up a liter of Sprite, because I had a phlebotomy in Coupeville in just a couple hours. Here’s a cool picture of the unit of blood they drained from me.

That’s all I got for now. Sorry it took so long for an update, but y’all can eat me if I seem to be taking too long. Take it easy my gentle snowflakes, and hopefully I’ll have something more to post about before the end of July.