My First Endoscopy

(The following post was originally written in a Notepad file...)

June 22, 2015

Today, I just had my first endoscopy. I was supposed to do it last Friday, but cancelled the appointment as I was not feeling "mentally" ready. My worried dad got very dramatic and it troubled me, but I simply. Did not. Want. To do it.

Luckily, though, I was able to get another one for today instead (thanks to someone else who canceled theirs).

So I went to the place, on an empty stomach, and with my parents. The secretary typed what she needed to and lead me to a room that had beds, where other patients were recovering. There, a nurse instructed me to enter the dressing room, remove everything and put on this blue gown, hair net, and sock-like slippers.

"Everything?" I asked. "But my legs, I haven’t shaved them in forever!" She insisted, "Everything, everything!"

I went to change but refused to remove my pants. "There is NO way I’m showing anyone my furry legs!" I thought. So I protested again, "I don’t see why I should take off my pants if I’m only doing an upper endoscopy!" but she mentioned that it’s because I’d be going into a "sterile room" and my legs would be under a blanket anyway.

Okay, fair enough. So I removed "everything everything" and placed my stuff in the open locker #3. As I did so, I was struggling to hold the back of my gown and bend at the same time, but the nurse quickly realized that and came to my rescue so that my bare butt would not be exposed to the gentlemen behind.

I then went to the bed. It was comfy and they gave me a warm blanket to cover my legs. I also had to sign a few papers and listen intently to the nurse’s explanations. She stared right into my soul and told me that I’d have to remember to breathe, no matter what. I may gag at times, but I need to breathe. I might drool, but it’s okay. If I feel like burping, I can burp. If I’m told to swallow, I need to swallow. I mentioned having difficulty swallowing but she said, "well, we have no choice." I needed to completely listen to whatever instructions I would be given.

Not very reassuring, but I agreed to be on my best behavior.

So she put something on my finger (to read the pulse; it didn't bite like I thought it would) and then stuck a needle in my right arm (my "good" arm where I never want to have needles inserted, but made an exception this time).

Then, from the recovery room, I was rolled in by another nurse to the "operation room." Wheee! It was a nice little ride that lasted 3 seconds.

In the operation room, there was another nurse and the doctor. The nurse there was nice (and a little tough, but in a nice way). She reminded me of the instructions I was previously given: If you need to gag, it’s normal and it’s okay. If you need to drool, you can drool. Etc. You won’t be asleep because you need to listen to our instructions and obey. If we tell you to swallow, you’ll have to do it.

Next, she sprayed a liquid into the back of my mouth and told me to swallow. Miraculously, I did! It tasted like medicine and started numbing my throat. I also felt slightly nauseated, but this was mostly due to stress. When I’d be ready, she would add a second shot (about 6 more sprays). So I took a little break, let things settle down in my throat. Then, the second time, I swallowed everything in one big gulp. Never had I swallowed something so gross with such ease.

After that, I lied on my left side. Finding a comfortable position was a bit difficult, but I found it soon enough. The other nurse added the calming drugs (a.k.a. "versed," which felt wonderful) through the tube going to my arm, while the other put a bite block in my mouth, to keep my teeth apart in case I gag. "It'll be like underwater diving!" she said.

Before I knew it, the endoscope (i.e. plastic cable with a camera) was inside of me. Although I was told I might feel something going down next to my sternum, the numbing liquid worked very well and I didn’t feel a thing.

The whole time, I kept breathing. Slowly and steadily. No one in the room said a word; all I could hear was my breathing. I was doing well for a few minutes, when suddenly something happened and I gagged a bit. I could feel nasty stuff going up towards my lungs, but quickly pulled myself together and kept on breathing. I was committed to breathing. At this point, though, I was making animal sounds when exhaling; it was my only way of focusing and calming down. My heart rate had gone up a bit, but thanks to the drugs I was too calm to panic. I was also wondering, "should I breathe from my nose or my mouth? Damn it, I forgot to ask!" but kept breathing from my mouth (hoping not to hyperventilate).

Then, I could feel water being irrigated. Man, that felt great. Hydration! But I was still exhaling like a grunting tortoise (to clear my airways, which were slightly affected by the water-acid-phlegm that came up to my mouth).

"Please let this be done soon," I thought.

And it was (I think this lasted under 10 min).

"All done!" they said, after removing the endoscope (that I hadn’t even seen). So I was rolled back out to where I came from.

My mouth was full of phlegm-water-whatever, so I pointed my finger to it when one of the nurses asked if I was okay, and the other understood that I wanted to spit, so she brought me a towel for that.

Then, the first nurse removed the needle and placed a pressure-measuring device on my arm. My pressure was taken every 10 minutes (about 3 times in total), and I also kept the finger clamp for the pulse. The doctor then came to see me and summarized the results: Acute dissipated gastritis and a small hiatal hernia. She mentioned that I had a lot of inflammation, could it be due to stress? (Yeah, I guess so, in addition to my ginger ale addiction).

So when I got up, I felt a bit dizzy, but nothing to worry about since I could still keep my balance. I went back to the dressing room to get my clothes on (and finally hide my very hairy legs. Glad the nurse was nice enough not to comment on those and instead ask about my long hair: "Does it take a long time to dry?"). I was also given two pamphlets; one about how to manage stress and the other about GERD-related problems.

After a few minutes, I was able to return to the room where my parents were waiting. The secretary told me, "you’ll finally be able to eat!" I said, "yeah..." with a sad smile inside of me. If only she knew what I had been going through...

Well, we got a copy of the results and left building. My mom examined the small pictures of my esophagus and pointed out, "Look! This one is like a shrimp.. this one like chicken.. and this one like ham!"

The endoscopy was expensive, but the service I received was excellent. My next appointment is on August 10 (and will be free this time) for a follow-up about the biopsies (once the samples taken from my esophagus will be analyzed by the people who study bacteria and whatnot).

As for the "aftermath," well, I’m okay. No burping, no cramps, not even tired (despite being a little weak, since I haven't been eating much lately). Just a small, minor sore throat, but really no big deal.

Overall, this was an interesting experience. That said, I'd rather not do it again.