And here it goes again. I had an endoscopy yesterday. This time, it wasn't trying to thread the cathiter through my sphincter of oddi, this time they only went into my stomach and did a sonogram (ultrasound) through the lining of my stomach to look at my pancreas and the common bile ducts.
The actual event didn't take that long, but the things I had to do to get the party started did kind of have a nasty ring to it. First there was the whole getting up there, which required me to get up at the but crack of dawn only to find out i was over an hour early. I'm used to waiting so it was ok. After they took me back, i got into a gown, got an IV (20g, really, they shoulda used an 18)and just sat and waited to go back. It was good, cuz i caught a little cat nap. When they finally took me back, as is custome i tell jokes and then i had to have a lidocane spray on the back of my throat. Now this part really had me up in arms. Asside from the fact that it tasted next level nasty, I began to salivate like crazy. After that put a bite block in my mouth, that suddenly had me thinking that this was some bizzare sex ritual than a medical procedure, and i was out like a lightbulb. I have no idea what they used but it sure as hell worked fast.
I know it might seem odd but i was hoping for some smoking gun. some thing that would give the doctor that "ah ha" moment. I really do want to be cured, but if they find nothing, then the army in all it's wisdom will decide that i ma ship shape tip top and off to the meat grinder i go. I'm tired of the war, and yet at the same time, part of me is desperate to get back because it's the only place that i felt i mattered. I suppose you could say I've gotten addiced to being "Doc". But more than that, with all the "dear Johns" and the lousy women just looking for a cheap lift, and of course the women that only like me for my wallet. . . well i've begun to lose faith in my fellow man (and most especially woman). Iraq, as strange as it may sound is the only place where things made sense. Oh the missions were shit, but at least you had clear and defined ROE. You had clear rules to play by, and at the end of the day you didn't fuck your buddy because you depended on him. It is a gross oversimplification, but it is how i see it.
With this report, I suddenly am faced with the very real possibility that I will leave the WTB soon. A thought that carries with it mixed emotions. Do i want to go? Am I ready to be back in a unit? Can i even handel it? all these questions add up leaving me pondering my fate, which looks more and more bleak as time goes on.