I had two procedures yesterday.

Prior to the first test, I'd been lulled into believing the Motility procedure was going to be somewhat of a breeze. It was borderline dreadful despite the fact I remained completely clothed and no needles were in sight or blood taken. Pffft... piece-o-cake, right?

It was during the explanation of the procedure that I got an inkling that I hadn't necessarily been misled, but that there was more... or less... to the procedure than I'd anticipated.

On the count of three I was told to deeply inhale through my right nostril while the doctor stuck a fat syringe full of some thick cold viscous blobby gooey stuff up my nose. Then he took a tube that was about 6' long (okay, this is the only exaggeration I'll make) and threaded it through the goo in my right nostril down through my esophagus.

My doctor kept on cooing what a good patient I was. Little did he realize I was in a state-of-shock verging on catatonia. Good patient, my ass, what choice did I have? I was hostage to goo and a 6' tube snaking through my esophagus.

Truth is, folks, I am a good patient. Always have been. I haven't always liked it all, but I have soldiered through. Some people might call it disassociating. I call it picking-a-spot-someplace-nearby-and-tightly-focusing. That's what I do. I latch my eyes onto a place and hold on for dear life. This has never eliminated any discomfort especially when childbearing reached 9 cm, but that's what I do.

Later I discovered that the *Twilight State* I thought I was going to be put under is only reserved for patients that pitch a fit or freak out when a 6' tube is being shoved through a blob through the nose and down the esophagus.

But I'm a fool for praise and I think I'm now a living legend at Vandy because I was such a good patient. Whatever.

Procedure #2 put me in deep sedation - the stuff that Michael Jackson was using at naptime. (Please don't hate me - I do not think Michael Jackson's death was funny. I'm a writer, so back off!)

This second procedure was called a Bravo pH. Doesn't that sound so military? A gizmo with a transmitter was attached to my esophagus and will *talk* to a little box I'll carry around for 2 days. This procedure was easy-peasy because I was sedated the whole time. Part of the information I was given to take home included incredible photos that were taken while inserting the transmitter in my esophagus. Call me crazy, but I don't care which orifice it is, all interior shots look the same whether it's this or that or even here or there... well, you know. Kind of amazing.

Me and my gizmos are hitting the sack. I'm pooped.