Background story: Andrew was discharged Wednesday and on Friday he pooped blood. Like lots of blood. And then he blacked out, sweaty and pale. Then the scream "I can't see a thing!" Since apparently all the blood on his body was concentrated in his butt and his head was not getting enough of it. That was NOT a joke.
So we are back to the hospital. They pretty much did nothing. Oh and please not that there one doctor that, I'm pretty sure, possess ninja stealth power in putting cannullas in. Andrew's veins are mostly wrecked so everytime the doctor tried to put a new cannulla, they'll make him a pin cushion. Most of them will be like, yeahhhh I can totes do this. Then jab, jab,jab......nothing...... There were lots of moments that I wanna jab those needles up their.... Well, nevermind.
Anyway.
They scheduled a colonoscopy. And we waited for our turn..... For 48 hours. Poor kid. They didn't tell us that they "move" his schedule to the next day. Right. That night, that very night he is having another blood- pooping episodes again. I really don't like those colonos/endoscopy team, just saying. There worst part is he was passing so much blood that he actually pass out. I attempt catch him, just like Korean drama. The thing is, he lost 22 kgs but he is still 20 kgs heavier than me. Massive fail.
Doctors came, nurses rushed in. A bit like a scene from Grey's Anatomy show. Jab, jab, jab. When they left Andrew offiicially developed belonephobia. Google that. And then the pain come. I lovingly harrased the nurse for a painkiller.
Five minutes later, morphine came.
What I learned from this experience:
1. I need to start my weight training.
2. It's ok to stand up for your little brother when some over-confident doctor mistaken him as a pin cushion.
3. Morphin is good.
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