And so to bed after numerous trips to the bathroom and rediscovering baby wipes and diaper ointment. I wake at seven and start drinking again. This time it’s not so easy. It drags on until 10:30. Then I get to ride in a car for 40 minutes to the clinic. Now, normally a trip from Verona to Springfield isn’t so bad. But when you’ve panty liners, puppy pads, A&D Ointment and baby wipes to remember to take, plus you’re thirsty, headachy, dehydrated and other unmentionable things, it’s a little daunting.
So now we’re in the waiting room reading the pre-procedure information and disclaimers: bleeding, perforation, adverse reaction to sedation, undetected cancer, inability to perform the procedure because of improper emptying of the colon, death. Death? You mean I go in there, somebody starts a Versed drip and—WHAM—that’s it? That’s definitely something to ask the doctor about.
I’ll spare you the rest. Those of you who have been through it already know. Those of you who haven’t . . . well . . . your time will probably come. A word of advice: before Prep Day go to your local library and check out Dreams of my Father and The Audacity of
Here’s a tasteful, sensitive video some dear friends in Independence sent me in anticipation of my great adventure. I believe it’s the procedure we can anticipate under Obamacare.
Have a very Socialist day.
P.S. Let’s not forget the oldie but goodie, Dave Barry’s Colonoscopy, probably one of the funniest things I have ever read, and every word is true. I was only half asleep during mine, so I got to listen to the music. No idea what it was; thank God it was loud.