I'm sitting on the sofa trying to choke down a quart of barium sulfate misleadingly labeled a "smoothie" while my resident cheerleader holds my hand and helps me along the way.
"Take another sip, now," he says. "You can do it."
But I can't. I'm feeling pretty queasy, perhaps from last Friday's chemotherapy or perhaps from the absence of breakfast or quite possibly from the presence in my hand of a plastic bottle containing a vile fluid that looks like Elmer's Glue and tastes about like what I imagine Elmer's Glue would taste like, not that I've ever tried it. I have to drink it in preparation for a CT scan later in the day, but every sip makes my stomach rebel.
"Halfway done now," he says. "Try another sip."
I try another sip, emit another grimace, another groan.
"Look at the goldfinches attacking those sunflowers," he says. I look. They are lovely, all yellow and black and full of life. But then again, they don't have to eat vile fluids that look like glue.
"Just a little more," he says. "Have you ever noticed how some of the hummingbirds hover above the feeder while others perch?"
I notice. I take another sip. I wonder whether this pseudo-smoothie could tempt a hummingbird to hover or perch or do anything but fly swiftly in the extreme opposite direction.
"One more sip," he says. I wish he would go away so I could dump this stuff down the sink and go back to bed, but he's not going to give up until I've taken my medicine. "Just drink it down," he says gently, patiently, firmly. "Drink it down."
I drink it down. For a while it doesn't feel as if it's going to stay down, but it does and I'm done with it. No more gluey smoothies for a while. Instead, I'll celebrate the glue that keeps my resident cheerleader by my side through thick and thin, through just one more sip. And then just one more.
3 comments:
Here's how I drink CT shakes:
Using a straw (VERY important), I suck up and swallow the goop while counting to 10 in my head. Then I stop sucking to the count of 10. I follow these steps until the shake is gone -- roughly five minutes.
Think of it as another opportunity to shine -- or glow.
Maybe I should take the opportunity to walk in interstate traffic?
Just out of curiosity, did they happen to give you the "mixed berry" barium suspension? If such is the case and you should in the future happen to have further CT scans requiring oral contrast, ask for the vanilla. It is by far the least offensive to the palate.
Wishing you the best,
Kristen Righter
It was mixed berry...I'll try the vanilla next time. Coincidentally, one of my colleagues told me that a new scientific study suggests that whole milk is just as effective as barium sulfate and costs a lot less. He told me this AFTER my scan. Great timing, pal!
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