She Threw Up Blood


Alright folks, it’s time to rock n’ roll. Come Tuesday we’re dragging our behinds back in for my third round of chemo. I’ll be in the hospital for five days, just chillin’, playing SORRY! with the fam and takin’ strolls around the fifth floor.

If you ever get admitted to Arcadia Methodist Hospital, DEFINITELY request the fifth floor. It’s sort of The Four Seasons up there. Floors two and three you’re likely to be shot or stabbed on. Even though floor five has a woman who is constantly screaming for help at all hours of the day and night it is much better than the nurses that are trying to take you down a notch.

I was at home drinking a bunch of orange gatorade – one of my new faves – and I’m chugging it, hardcore, slammin’ this thing, bottoms up. Well, my stomach hasn’t really been in the “slamming” mood, but something just came over me and I needed hydration. So I take it and then I’m like, “This stuff is coming up, big time”

I get to the bathroom and Ralph Nader. It’s on the floor, on the seat, on the bowl, some is actually IN the bowl, but mostly we failed to find our target.

I threw up all the orange gato and then gave one final heave ho and what should come up but a bunch of red blood.

Hmmmm……then I threw up more.

And it was all blood.

And then I’m crouching there with blood drippping from my nose and lips wondering just what in the fart is going on. I haven’t eaten any blood lately…….

My mother and wife panic and call my oncologist and he says to bring me into the ER. It is 11 o’clock at night and I got out of bed to puke. I’m not feeling like seeing the ER and I’m not seeing this as a real emergency anyway…

But we go.

The doctor says, okay, we’re going to have to do a rectal exam on you and get some stool samples to see if the blood has gone through your system.

My answer was simple and fast.

“That’s not happening”.

You see, I draw the line at people sticking things in my anus or down my urethra. I believe that as working professionals we can find an alternative route to both of these. The doctor told me that it was the “ONLY WAY” and then he began pleading with my mother and wife, knowing that they were the only way into my brown star home.

My wife – she’s so kind and always on my side – she says, “John, I think you should let him do this”.

Unreal.

I tell the doctor, I say, “Can I have that little bucket? I think I’m gonna be sick again.”

He hands me this little dirty bedpan and I throw up a bunch of dirty brown blood into it and this is what the doctor says verbatim:

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely blood. We don’t have to do a rectal exam.”

Dear doctor. I hate you.

It’s like, do they just have new tools they want to try out? He just got a new speculum that he wanted to plug into me?

I stayed the night in the hospital, they said I just teared my esophagus and that I was probably already halfway healed. I won’t get into the night I spent alone in the hospital (on the THIRD FLOOR) but suffice it to say it was one of the worst hospital experiences of my entire life. I thought a gangster was going to come into my room and shoot me.

Outside of all that, Tuesday we start Round 3 and we’re gonna tear it up on floor FIVE. We’ve figured it all out and this should all be over in about 38 / 37 days — FREEEEDOM!!!


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