Post Procedural Peroration

At precisely 7:15 this am, Sandy was here to drive me to the hospital. The 17yo was not all that concerned, he didn't come up from the basement to say goodbye. Maybe I made this all sound too routine, like I was going to get my teeth cleaned or something. I was home five hours later, feeling just fine. And ravenous! And I saw four full-color photos of the inside of my colon! They kept them in my file. Because you just know I would have had them with me everywhere, clogging up the grocery store aisles telling my colonoscopy story to contemporaries who also had medical procedure stories to share with me. When exactly is it that we morph into those people, the ones who do that? Around the time that we realize we've become our parents? Anyway, I am just dandy. My GI tract is just dandy. And what pretty much everyone who has a routine, screening colonoscopy says is true. The prep, which consists of approximately 16 hours of laxative induced bowel cleansing that is preceded by a week's worth of diet restrictions, is the worst part. It is very unpleasant and I did not enjoy it one little bit. Especially the last bottle of stuff, which I sucked back whilst sitting on the throne at four-thirty this morning. And without being too graphic, let me just say that I was indeed sitting on the correct seat. PLEASING LEMONY FLAVOR MY ASS!!! Once I was admitted into the hospital, I changed into a lovely matched set of butt-bearing gown and robe complete with fuzzy slipper socks. Did I mention that I left the house without a stitch of jewelry on? That actually made me feel more naked than the hospital gown! You sign some paper work that states that you are aware of what is about to be purpetrated upon you and that you are going along with it! Then they place you in a wheelchair, take you to the OR, pump happy drugs into your IV, and an hour or so later you wake up in your room. Like you just had a pleasant but very expensive nap. Then they brought me food! Toast and juice and coffee. And I had the remote for the TV. I watched an old episode of ER. One with George Clooney. I adore George, and at the end Carol Hathaway shows up and they have a teary and passionate reunion. I always substitute myself for her in a scene with George. Nobody seems to notice, I guess all us curly-headed gals look alike... After successfully navigating to and using the bathroom, they let me get dressed. I'll have you know that I put on my panties standing gracefully on one foot and then the other. Yessss! Then Sandy was there to take me home. And other than all this gas rumbling around in my belly, which sounds a little like a tiny, distant thunderstorm, I feel just fine. I did take a nap and I'm happy to say dinner is throwing together quesadillas from what's in the fridge, my energy level is a down a notch or so. Now I feel it is my duty to tell all of you who are fifty and over to go and get a screening colonoscopy! If you have insurance that pays for it you have no excuse! If only someone could explain this odd craving I'm feeling for Jello...