Waayy too much TMI

If you really don't want to read anything yukky, then I suggest you move along. I am about to bare my guts. Almost literally, but I WILL spare you photos of them. Lets start at the beginning. The first time I remember having problems in the, shall we say, bowel area, I was about 4. That is when the stress in my little life reached an all time high. As a result, I became a little 4 year old non-pooper. I vividly remember Mrs. Carter, my babysitter, sitting in the water closet with me, holding my hand, singing songs, to help calm me down enough to do what I was there for. She was the sweetest woman on earth. I remember having to drink all sorts of concoctions and going to a doctor that did things that should never be done to little girls. As life has gone on, my stomach/bowels have always been what goes ape-shit when I am stressed. From the outside I appear to be the most confident person alive. I am confessing here and now, it is all a sham. I am a jumble of nerves and paranoia. At some point, my guts decided that THEY would decide when to interfere with my life. It no longer was just during times of stress. Sometimes I could be clucking along just great then !BAM! the rest of my day/night is spent rushing to the little room where the magazines are kept. I have learned to live with this over the years. I put up with all the teasing from BigD about being full of shit (yeah, he is a riot) and then about 3 hours later I tell him no....not any more. The pain has gotten to the point where it hurts, A LOT. I guess that is why it is called pain. Anyhow, a couple of months ago, I was so sick from this that BigD wanted to take me to the ER. Our local ER is full of docs that I know, picnic with, and have known for years and years, so the thought of any of them wanting to "take a look" or "examine" my backside and innards....no freaking way. I toughed it out, but it was bad. Really bad. When I finally got in to see my female doc, she told me that since things has accelerated and now there was the extra component of what I thought was a period but was coming from the wrong place, it was time for the dreaded scope. Once again, it happens to be that my neighbor is the best GI guy in this region. So it looks like he gets the prize of going where nobody belongs. So, when you are eating your breakfast today, lunch, dinner, know that there is a part of me that is hating you. Today, my diet will consist of tea, water, jello, and a bunch of horrid pills and liquids that will make my body do what it does without prompting most of the time. I can't wait. I cannot even tell you how much I am dreading this prep. The scope..not so much. I will be doped up--hopefully REALLY doped up--and shouldn't hopefully call the doctor a sonofabitch during the procedure. He is such a sweet, gentle, soft spoken man and I would hate to have him know the real me :) I am so preoccupied with worry about the prep that I haven't even considered that they might actually FIND something wrong in there. So, last night BigD and I went to a wedding and reception of a girl that grew up next door. It was beautiful, the venue was AMAZING, and I can honestly say it was the best wedding and reception I have ever been to, including mine. The reception was indoor/outdoor, the night was clear and there was a full moon...fabulous. The food...wow. I haven't eaten that well in so long I don't remember when. So today, I get to starve, and visit the magazine room. Wish me luck. (I have no idea why I decided to even post about this gross subject...maybe it is my head that needs to be examined!)