Had to go to my colonoscopy today. I’d mentioned my concerns/dreads/exasperations HERE. No, it’s not done for fun.
We’d picked up the big gallon jug of laxitive mixer over the weekend. I decided to add in the lemon-lime flavor pack – yeah, it’s a flavor, all right. Tuesday I added water and mixed it all up. And Thursday, I had to drink it.
Knowing I would be short-term-renting food for the day, I only had a muffin for breakfast. Then, starting at 1pm and continuing every 30 minutes, I had to drink a full glass of the stuff until it was all done. And what’s it taste like? Ditch runoff? Laundry water? The Ganges? Ugh. It was just flat and nasty. I actually would suck it down (eyes closed, brow creased) with a straw, as fast as I could. Then I’d wash the glass out with a shudder. Follow it up with another glass of water? Yeah, no problem there. Anything to get the taste out of my mouth.
At first it wasn’t too bad. I’d drink a glass, read a bit. Look up at the clock – Oh, is it 1:30pm already? Not bad. But then things started coming unstuck. I was in the bathroom for longer and longer periods of time. At 3pm, I drank that vile brew, went into the commode, came out at 3:30pm, and marched right back to the kitchen for another round of mine-tailings runoff. Yum yum.
By 6:30, I’d downed the jug. After that, it was a night of slow entertainment and quick rushes to the bathroom. Had to ask the wife to please apply in writing for any toilet time.
Anyway, today we went over at 10:30am for the appointment. They were running slow (they should drink their own dang juice and speed things along!). Worse, we had to sit in the lobby with daytime TV. I’m trying to read my book, trying to ignore the blaring of “Wendy” and “Dr. Phil”. People watch this stuff? I can only assume it was pre-prep for the anesthesiologist – my brain had pretty much shut down.
They finally put me into a little room and I took off my comfortable clothing and got into a little silly smock with an ominous split up the back. Oh boy. After that, I was rolled into the back and hooked up like a chimp in a capsule. Part of the game while waiting there was to see if I could use my thoughts and meditation practice to slow down and speed up the beeper machine. It was kinda like “Medical Wii”. Oh well. Anything to take my mind off Edward G Robinson’ s demise in Solyent Green. It’s people, you know?
And then I was rolling off for my procedure. I remember wondering when the anesthesia would take hold. Then the nurse left me in a hall. I lay there for a bit, wondering what would happen next. A women next to me was chatting about how nice the Villages were to live in, how much lawn maintenance costs, and how wonderful it was to live in Stepford. I had to fart. (Sorry, its true). So I quietly out-vented. Again. Man, I was so gassy – how was the doc going to get his probe in against these headwinds? And suddenly Jane came in and sat next to me in the hall. I asked if she was here to see me go in. “You’re done”, she replied.
What? Done? Well, that would explain the Burrito-blowouts. But it was like reading a book that’s missing about 50 pages. I just went from one scene to the next without realizing it. They let me toot a little more (probably so I wouldn’t fumigate their outpatent room). Then JB fetched the car, I slipped into my clothes, no dizziness, nothing. Just went home and ate a sandwich on the back porch, reading in the sun. Rather nice.
And no, I’m not posting the picture up on Facebook (though the nurse tells me some people do).
And more unbelievable – some people get that sluice-juice as a diet control drink. Really? If I’d had one more glass to down, it would have had to be at gunpoint.
LATE BREAKING NEWS – while typing this, I reached up and scratched my collor bone and found a hookup. Searched around under my body and found three of them? Is this a bad Matrix dream???