in keeping with the theme of the day...

I have been in an exceptionally good mood today, because Nayla is having a long awaited happy procedure, and I think I am experiencing vicarious relief at it (the procedure) being over. I hope it has gone well. The last time I was faced with being given Versed was for an upper endoscopy (this visualizes the upper esophagus, which is very roughly located a little above the sternum.) About a year ago, I had decided to undergo this fascinating procedure after one episode of vomiting blood, combined with my mother’s diagnosis (a few months later) of esophageal cancer. Spoiler alert, but there was no problem identified with my esophagus. We suspect I was taking too much Alleve for a running injury, and not eating enough…food. In general. But in retrospect, I like the vomiting blood incident, because this, combined with the whole pupil dilation thing that happens with my migraines, does put me in the prime category of mild demonic possession. All I’m missing is a penchant for the uncontrollable eating of spiders.

In any case, the procedure itself, which involves swallowing a thin tube that contains a camera, isn’t painful, but it is distressing to many people. But I found the idea of Versed, one of the drugs routinely administered during the procedure, far more distressing than swallowing a silly tube. Versed is not really a painkiller, and it doesn’t really induce unconsciousness. Instead, it’s an amnesiac, and here I have to pose the question: what is it that is going on that one might not want to remember, and if such things are occurring, shouldn’t one be given more anesthesia, local or otherwise. An upper endoscopy is not supposed to be painful, and a *just in case* dose of intravenous Percocet is generally administered, but if some horrible slip up is going to happen, or if I’m going to find myself in a disturbing amount of pain, then my goodness….I don’t want to repress it. I pay regular visits to a psychiatrist for the very purpose of ensuring that any and all trauma in my life is highly visible and addressed. A friend of mine who knows about such things insists that this is one of the great human fears, the inability to recall conscious moments of one’s life, and that idea certainly terrifies me.

In the end, the procedure was uneventful. I took the reasonable route and explained to the doctor that I did not need Versed, because I don’t tolerate it well. That seemed like a good explanation and was mostly true, in the existential sense. She wasn’t wild about the idea, but judging from the goodwill I suddenly felt towards everyone after the IV insertion, I think they bumped up the Percocet level. Not only did I not have Versed, but I remember watching the entire procedure on the television monitor, and that Aaron Neville was playing in the procedure room, and dear God, I am grateful to not have that floating around in my subconscious.

Nayla, if after today you have any previously unknown songs in your head, it’s not a side effect of the fertility drugs. And I’m hoping things went well, and we hear from you soon.