Put Those Claws Away.

I FINNNNAALLY had that much anticipated doctor appointment with the GI [gastrointestinal] doc this last week.

I wasn't so much worried about what he would diagnose as much as I was worried about whether or not he'd say it was in my head and to get counseling.

[I've heard it before from a nurse and I probably would have reacted differently if she had told me that in person rather than on the phone.]

While I was waiting for the doctor in the waiting room and that smaller room scenes from Seinfield played in my head--you know--the episode where George goes to the doctor and then goes on a rant about how doctors do that because they're trying to mess with your head.

At the appointment I told him how I was feeling, he asked me questions about my symptoms and did the tapping thing on my abdomen that some physicians seem so fond of [dumb I tell you]; I don't fully understand why you would do that to a patient if she says that it feels like her abdomen is trying to implode, but oh well--he's the one who went to med school.

Turns out it's not in my head, nearly all of the symptoms match with a diagnosis that is very treatable [IBS], I'll make some diet changes and go back in a month to check on some stuff.

Phew.

Not Crohns.

And no colonoscopy.

I hope to conquer the monster living in my belly, or at least de-claw it.

In the mean time, don't be offended if I suddenly dash out of the room, or politely reject your offer of cookies/brownies/sweets or basically any other food item--

What a strange cultural phenomenon that is for me, we're supposed to eat healthy, but we show we care by sharing junk food?

Also, must there be eats in nearly every social [or church] setting? I'll have to gather my thoughts further on that one before I go on a rant. 

Until then, you might see some strange recipes make their way on here. [Remember the diet changes?]