Irony

Here's a story about irony (not to be confused with Shy Ronnie, the SNL skit!)

First a little background. I have major stomach issues that, as many stomach issues are, have been a guessing game for my doctors. (Why does it have to be that way? And why do I have to suffer for long periods of time just so they can take another stab of what it could possibly be?) Anyway, right now, the diagnosis is gastroparesis which is when the nerves of your stomach are damaged which delays your stomach emptying process. Usually this is a complication of diabetes (then why do I have it? Who knows?) So, I have this vomiting problem. Sorry to say it, but it is imperative to the story. In October of 2008, I had a procedure called an ERCP and the doctor put stents into my bile ducts. Do you remember that, loyal reader? They had me on major medications (many of which were really nice…) one of them being ativan. Usually, ativan is used for helping people with anxiety, but it can also help to reduce stomach cramps, which was a nice side effect of the surgery.

Fast forward to last weekend. I go through these bouts of feeling fine and then not being able to eat a thing without getting sick. This weekend was a bad one. I was searching around my medicine drawer for something that I could take (because I have been prescribed so many things, but not much helps) and I came across an ativan that I had saved… from a year and a half before. I guess I never wanted to take the last one because I thought that I should save it for a time when I really needed it. So, digging around in my medicine drawer, I come across this one, little pill and think, "Well, now would be a good time to take it." It sat there forever, just waiting for the emergency that it would take for me to use it.

I took the pill. Ten minutes later, I threw it up. (Was that too gross? Sorry if it was.) How's that for irony? Saved it all that time, and when I finally decided to use it, I was thwarted by my own body! Figures.