I Must Be Easy. . .Or Am I Just a Cheap Date?
I slept in as late as I could on the day of my colonoscopy. What was the point of getting up if I couldn't enjoy my coffee with half 'n half or my toast and fruit? They tell you not to arrive more than 15 minutes ahead of your appointment saying there is no point because you will just wait. I think it's because they only have one restroom in the waiting area. Let's face it, everyone who arrives there is either forcing out the last of the laxative or worried they will. One restroom for all of those people is a cruel joke. Lucky for me, I was clean as a whistle before I got there.
They happily guided me back to my gurney and asked if I was currently pregnant. Uh, no. Have I completed menopause? Uh, no. "Then," she says, "I need to do a pregnancy test on you. Can you give me a urine sample?" Let me just remind you that I have spent the better part of the last 24 hours eliminating any excess matter, solid and liquid, that lurked in my body and she tells me we can't proceed until she runs a pregnancy test. Sheesh.
Here's where the good part comes in. They give you some drugs, really nice drugs. Drugs like you have a great buzz and just love everybody drugs. The last thing I remember is the nurse coming in to tell me I wasn't pregnant. Oh Glory be. . .now we can do the colonoscopy. So they wheel me down the hall to a dimly lit room and the Dr. comes in to introduce himself - appropriate given how intimate we are about to become. He asks if I have any questions and the only thing I can think to say is, "I feel like you should, at least, buy me dinner first." I'll bet her never hears that.
That must be when they cranked up the IV because I do not remember anything after that until Moondoggy came in and asked if I was ever tempted to go toward the light. So, I'm good for another 10 years and can now give the knowing nod and wink when other newly 50 people realize it's time for their colonoscopy.
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Jason G. Anderson
Jordan T. Maxwell