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Thursday, January 27, 2011

De one with IVU

Health chat

Intravenous Urography was something that I never expected myself to go through. Barely did I know this is the third visit at the hospital for personal, major health issues. 

A few brief background stories to share before moving on. My first visit and stay at the hospital occurred when I was 5-6. My parents rushed me to the hospital due to profuse-vomiting after enjoying centripetal force. Yes, I spun myself while standing still and paused occasionally to savor the thrill of initial force.

My second happened last year due to an unfortunate dengue fever. Recall I was burning up and breaking into cold sweat. The unbearable torment made every cells scream me to drag myself to the hospital alone, around 1+am. The fever-span lasted two weeks. It wasn't until the final day to recovery did my admission to hospitalisation took place. Blood palates were falling way below desired, oh, the unforgettable pain of being pricked for blood-examination daily.

I guess the preceding incident made me immunised against the prick of needles. The medical officer at IVU did something I felt all doctors should do. He shows his concern  for your well-being with a warm question before mentally-preparing you with a countdown to injection. Funny why they keep describing the injection pain as "it's just an ant's bite". Most often, we don't feel bitten by ants. Well, that was what was on my mind, as I stared blankly into the gigantic x-ray machine a couple feets above my abdominal.

-Flashback- Some 30 minutes earlier, arrived on time, my aunt who insisted on accompanying me, was more panicky than myself. For a minute, I thought who was the patient. But she meant well regardless. Regretted not bringing a jacket to the department. the low temperature caused goosebumps to appear on my exposed arms. Got changed into a patient's robe and proceeded to lie on the raised bed in the IVU room.

30 minutes later, the medical officer had trouble locating a visible and potential vein to ensure effective iodine infusion. It took him about 20 minutes, 3 needle-pricks at different locations of both arms to locate a viable attempt. Clearly, my veins were delicate. Sigh. Moreover, the MO emphasised they are deviating from normal practice to use the small needle instead of the average larger one to deliver the infusion. Omg. I was feeling helpless, literally.

The radioactive scan itself took estimatedly 30-40 minutes. A third or quarter of it was waiting time for the contrast medium to lighten the flow of my ureter as the kidney excretes the contrast medium. Multiple x-ray shots were taken after this process termed as "prone" time. Unexplainable. Basically, I lie on the bed and was shifted under the radioactive-emitter for x-ray shots to be taken. Oh, pressure were applied using sponge bags and a film that's capable of tightening, strapped across my mid-section. The poor assistant faced twice attempts doing this before the grip of the wrenching mechanism hit its maximum and the tightening was too loose. Oops, so I did her a favor by expanding my waist as possible. 
Example of an IVU test image. This is not mine. It belongs to an 18 year old obtained from website www.bhj.org/journals

But I'd say it's yet another life experience. Though unwanted. Hopefully, the results show negative for kidney stones. Pray for me, will you?