Oh the nerve!

Ya know that old phrase, "you are getting on my last nerve!"? Have you ever wondered what happens when you get past that very last nerve? Well, generally doctors stare at you with an expression that contains a bizarre juxtaposition of sympathy and absolute fascination. In fact, when I was in the hospital in November, a bright-eyed and perky medical student, who was clearly working off the effects of entirely too much caffeine, asked me if she could confess something.

Disclaimer...if someone (especially a blossoming medical professional) asks you if she can confess something, it's generally not going to be that you won a million dollars. Or even five dollars.

In this case, my dear perky friend stated, "I'm sure it is hard to live with all of these symptoms, but you are aboslutely fascinating!" Awesome.

All kidding aside, my nerves have really made a hot mess of a situation. I met with gastroenterology today, who basically told me what I knew and have heard before...that I have too many things going on to warrant "quick fix" surgery. Did I know this deep down in the bottom of my "fascinating" self? Yes. Did I want to hear it? Not so much. Don't get me wrong-no one wants to be sliced and diced. However, if my session of intestinal sculpting got me closer to a steaming, hot slice of pizza and a frozen margarita, then I was game. It seems that something decided to borrow my nervous system early in 2011...but didn't exactly put it back the way it should be. The nerves (especially the autonomic nerves related to our gastrointestinal field) are an area that medicine really doesn't know too much about right now (cue my entrance in the future medical journal).

So where does that leave me now? Well this afternoon it left me strapped to a bed, hooked up to electrodes and chatting about reality television with a nurse. In short, the autonomic reflex testing chamber (and yes, they call it a chamber). The autonomic nervous system is exactly what it sounds like-the things that happen automatically in your body. Without it, Iphones across the world would blow up in smoke with all of the reminders that would have to be set for our hearts to beat and lungs to breathe. As I have mentioned in a previous post, my autonomic nervous system hasn't earned any gold stars in quite some time.

The truth is, getting to celebrity status is hard. I mean, I'm entirely too tall to be a scantily clad teenager on the Disney channel, I don't have a dog the size of a football in my purse and I fall asleep by 9:30, which rules out all of the late night parties attended by photographers from People magazine. So instead, I'm here at the Mayo Clinic, stumping doctors left and right. Not necessarily ideal, but the way I figure, the longer I'm here, the more material there is for my made-for-TV movie, right?