A few years ago when we first invited James to come to dinner, I asked him if there were any foods that he couldn't eat or didn't like. He replied that there were indeed two things in life he simply would not eat: Brussels Sprouts and barium. I carefully avoided both of these in the evening's meal.
This morning I had my first upper GI and with it, my first taste of barium. I have to say it was not all that bad. I wouldn't want to drink it if I didn't have to, but it certainly wasn't as awful as some would make it seem. It was thick and chalky, yes, but thankfully bland, and I had no trouble swallowing it.
First, they gave me what basically amounted to a small dose of Pop Rocks. Then I chased that immediately with a thick barium shake. While I stood there gulping the glop, they took pictures of my suddenly gas-distended abdomen as the white goo slimed down my digestive tract. The attending physician pointed out a bunch of my interesting internal landmarks to the two radiology interns who were taking the x-rays and watching the journey down my throat on a monitor above my head.
Once this dose was down and the doctor was satisfied with the pictures, I was carefully tilted back down onto my back, rolled gently from side to side to allow the gunk to fully coat all sides of my innards, and then x-rayed from various degrees around my body. Halfway through this I also had to drink another larger cup of thinner barium. This was slightly more difficult as I was already full of gas bubbles and the thicker first serving, but I managed okay, only dribbling a little onto the table and pillow. More photos and then it was over.
One of the nurses handed me a warm, wet washcloth to wipe the white residue off my lips. I hadn't realized I had made such a pig of myself. Got barium?
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