Pin It I really tried, too.
Wanted to give you some amusing little ditty to help you feel some pity....
(Hey, THAT rhymes...).
So, then, I thought about bright and cheerful images, to encourage all my readers to take care of BUSINESS, if you know what I mean.
Here's the best I could do...
This story begins about a year and a half ago, on my 50th birthday. (I apologize to all you young things who simply CAN'T relate. And I have but one piece of advice for you: just wait. It's coming for you, too, Babe, and it's sooner than you think.) So, anyway, it was a big day for me: I needed to get my driver's license renewed, and I needed to get my photo made. So I dressed in a GOOD color for me, got my hair done, and waltzed into the DMV, Express Lane. The girl who was taking my picture said, "Oh, that's a nice photo!" and I said, "Yeah, and it's my 50th birthday, too!" And of course, the poor woman had no choice but to oooh and aaah over how young I looked. So I walked out of there with a spring in my step, and off I went to my doctor's office.
I pulled the same thing on several other people, who all also, agreeably, complied with my request for vain assurances that I really didn't look "that" old. And then, enter my blue eyed doctor, whom I adore. "Really????" he beamed. "Your birthday? Well, I have a little present for you!" I dimpled in what I hoped was a fetching manner. "You DO????" By this time, the hook was firmly set in my jaw. "What is it???!!!!" I asked my wonderful, generous doctor-friend. "It's called a 'colonoscopy'" he smirked. Honestly, the nerve of some men. He USED to be my favorite doctor.
We had no money. We have a high deductible. I had no time. I didn't WANNA. So, like many of you have done, I put it off.
Flash forward a year and a half.
Last month, I got the word from one of my siblings, who shall go unnamed, that a cancerous polyp had been found in (and was then successfully removed from) his/her colon.
And, this sibling gently and lovingly warned me, that if I knew what was good for me....
Well, cancer in a family member certainly perks up your attention level. And, this year, I HAVE met my deductible. And so, I got busy and scheduled the darn thing.
Here are my words of wisdom in regard to this procedure:
First and foremost:
1. For cryin' out loud, just do it. It really ain't that big a thing. And I'm a great big weenie in regard to fear. But honestly, if I can do it, so can you.
2. It's just like you've heard: the prep is the worst part. But in regard to that, they've made some significant advances, which leads to #3.
3. Ask for Miralax for your prep. Mix it with SmartWater (electrolytes, dontchaknow) or Gatorade. Drinking an entire gallon, 8 0z. every 10 minutes, really was the worst part. But it's doable. I understand that the "old" stuff: GoLytely, it's called - now, THERE'S a misnomer if ever there was one - is terrible, terrible stuff.
4. This is my most significant piece of advice of all, so listen up.
IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER/ROOMMATE/DRIVER NOT GET A STOMACH BUG AND COMPETE WITH YOU FOR BATHROOM PRIVILEGES THE NIGHT OF YOUR PREP, ESPECIALLY AT 3:00AM WHEN YOUR BOWELS HAVE TURNED INTO WATER.
I cannot emphasize this last point strongly enough.
Because, first off, by scheduling the colonoscopy, well, aren't you being the Brave Little Soldier in the first place? Don't you deserve LOTS and LOTS of sympathy and pampering and hand-holding (as long as you've washed them after every bathroom visit)? And if your dear spouse is lying in the bed next to you moaning and groaning and clutching his own guts, well, it kinda steals your thunder a little bit. Although, after that night, we each had plenty of surplus thunder that needed to BE stolen, if you know what I mean.
When my dh attempted to steal the toilet away from me at 3:00 AM, as we were both making a mad dash for the facility, I'm telling you, that was just about the final straw for me. THANK GOD we have more than one toilet in this house, or somebody would have been calling Stanley Steamer the next morning before we left for the clinic. (Stanley Steamer: hey, that could be another joke...better not go there....) After that, I decided to sleep downstairs on the living room couch. Pilgrim, my German Shepherd followed me down the steps, and lay on the rug in the living room, her tall, pointy ears coming up every time they detected another whale song coming from my rumbly tumbly. Deep, crying out to deep. Wow, it was loud.
Anyway, I made it through. Versed is my friend. I never felt a thing, I had a lovely nap, and I woke up in the recovery room with my dear husband sitting next to me reading a magazine. He and the kids were hoping for some GREAT stories in regard to loopy ways I might be acting following the procedure, but I am afraid I let them down in this regard. Oh, well. (Kudos to whoever dosed me up with the meds: just enough, but not too much!)
Oh, by the way: did I mention? I'm all clean!!! Praise the Lord and pass the cheese!