Rage Against a Machine

You know that feeling when you just want to rip a machine out of your body?!

No, I suppose you probably don’t. Fair enough.

But let me tell you...This is an itch I just can’t scratch. Only, less of an itch (yes, scratch the itch, like, as in, get rid of. I just told you I can’t scratch it!)  and think more of a pain in the, ahem, butt or, actually gut, that is really cramping my style. (Like, literally.)

I can’t know for sure but if my suspicions are correct, Terry is abusive and heartless. (Okay, for sure he is heartless.)

To recap for those wondering who the heck Terry is, and what does he have to do with itches and scratches and machines, well, "Terry," (my endearing and apparently undeserving nickname for Enterra), is a gastric pacer implant that is meant to help with my gastro paresis symptoms: slow stomach emptying, nausea, and intestinal problems.

Terry and I have been in this intimate relationship just shy of a year now and I can’t take it anymore. I want to break up. I mean, he’s not even turned on anymore. No really. He’s turned off. Okay, seriously people. What I mean is, he’s deactivated.

Why did we turn him off, you ask? Well, this was a test. Would he back off with the stabbing, crippling pain attacks if put dormant?

Nope. Even without power, that bugger has the power to rule my life.

Here’s my theory: Terry is a foreign metal object floating in my belly wall, with two tentacles, er, I mean, wires threaded through my abdomen and up to my stomach, where they are latched, sorry, I mean attached on either side.

Call me crazy, but perhaps these wires are TWISTING AMONGST AND RUBBING AGAINST MY INNARDS!?! Perhaps, just maybe, THAT CAN HURT!?!?!

{Graphic alert!}

When I was younger and visiting a friend’s cattle farm, I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing a cow in major distress giving birth. It was explained that the calf was dead inside her and the only way to save the cow was to feed a wire into the womb and (so sorry about this part) saw the calf in half with it in order to get it out.

I was traumatised then. I am traumatised now.

My point being...I am both the cow and the calf! The wires are inside me to save my life, but they are cutting me in pieces! (Or so it feels. Artistic license? Or reality. Even I don’t know and I’m the writer!)

Some of you are still stuck on the sentence where I called myself a cow. Go ahead. Get it out of your system. Snigger and snort if you must. Okay? Good? Glad to give you a chuckle.

Now, moving on...

I don’t know how, but I must get to the bottom of this. Could removing Terry give me a bit of my life back? (At this point, that bit would be HUGE.) But what if the nausea returns and I turn him on again (Oh yeah. I said it.) and he gives me relief in that department? Removing him would then remove the anti-nausea benefits. Which is worse - debilitating pain or constant and intense nausea? And what if the surgery to remove him causes more nerve damage resulting in a different kind of life-long pain? Can I even qualify for the removal surgery? How do we prove he is the problem? Do I need exploratory surgery to see what’s going on? Would the surgeon’s knife damage my oh-so-hypersensitive nerves thanks to diabetic neuropathy on this quest for answers, doing more harm than good? Would a CT scan be enough? I can’t have an MRI with dear Terry inside me. (Picture me lying on the bed, the tech flipping on the switch and Terry exploding out of my body like a G6, taking half of me with him. Two words: Yuck. Dead.) 

You probably think I regret having Terry in my life. Do I? With the perspective of hindsight, sure I do. But knowing only what I knew then, I had to give him a chance. We had to try each other out.

To be clear...Terry is a clone. Others have been in a similar relationship with a different outcome. Yes, being in relationship with a Terry usually involves pain, but for some, the positives are worth it all. And if they can make it work, then I wish them all the best. I truly do. Sometimes though, compatibility is a problem.

If I do break up with Terry, it could get messy. Custody battles of tissue and nerve endings could ensue. Anti-nausea alimony cannot be granted. Fees will apply.

So today, that’s my story. Talk about rage against the machine.

Maybe a new iTunes purchase is in order? ;)