It Ain't over till it's Over

Today is July the 9, 2009. This is a day I have been looking forward to for weeks and I had marked it on the calendar. And why have I been looking forward to the 9th so excitedly? Because it meant it was no longer July the 8th. The dreaded Colonoscopy and Endoscopy were things of the past. Finis. Over. Done with.

Back in April, God pulled the ultimate April Fools joke on me (after I had mockingly said "they'll do a Colonoscopy on me when we have full camera pill technology available in Jefferson, ". And I said that in here of all places!) He had pointed His gigantic finger at my gut line and produced a little life threatening abscess on my colon. "Deal with this, smarty pants", He seemed to say. And therefore taught me the meaning of an old saying "never say never".

So, after a life altering two week stay at the Carolina Pines Hospital Resort and Vacation Spa (not) I sort of rethought my decision on Colonoscopies and me in general. Dr. Dameron, my surgeon, set the date for July the 8th. Since June 15th the box marked HalfLytely & Biscacodyl tablets Bowel Prep Kit has sat on my dressing table, mocking me. And it has the nerve to say in bold print (no whisperer this box) WITH FLAVOR PACKETS. The flavor packets being, cherry (yummy) pineapple (really?) and orange...oh no, the dreaded orange. The box mocked me every morning and every evening, so I stuck it in the closet where it could mock in darkness and leave me to my delusion that I could stave off July 8th with will power alone.

On July 6th a sweetheart of a nurse called me to remind me of our date with destiny. We did a preregistration by phone which meant saving scads of time on July 8th. There it was again, that date. July the 8th. I brought the box out of the darkness and got my hospital folder down from the bookshelf. Inside the folder were the directions for taking the Preparation. I read the directions and it didn't seem so bad. I put a brave face on when talking to Mac about what was coming up. The air of nonchalance and utter disregard for my upcoming event gave me a sort of courage that I hadn't known was there. I announced to the world that there was an upcoming party and I was the pinata...it was about then that Mac gave me the Jane Wayne award for bravery.

My pal Lee (Chrysalis Dreams) and I discussed the procedure ad nauseum by phone and by instant messenger and I knew that I would not back out of this. So on July 7th, at 6 a I mixed the solution which made up 2 litres of what I hoped wouldn't be a terribly vile drink. I added the pineapple and the cherry packs to the solution and shook well. I placed it in the fridge to chill (shaken, not stirred comes to mind...James Bond invades my daydreams on the occasion). On this day I could eat nothing. It was a clear liquid diet of tea, broth and hard candies (no red colors it announced in bold letters on the diet instruction sheet). No caffeine (I was doomed) no aspirin, no arthritis pain meds. This was going to be a pretty crappy day. In more ways than one.

At three p I was instructed to take the first of the two Bisacodly tablets. Then, I began drinking the solution at 5 p. It wasn't as bad as I had imagined it to be. Not great, I mean I wouldn't take it over say, tap water...but not bad. I had to drink the whole two litres in two hours 8 ounces at a time every ten minutes. What fun. I don't know why I a straw in the bottle wouldn't have accomplished the same thing, but I am a stickler for instructions so eight ounces every ten minutes it was. It was along about 6 p that I warned Mac not to get in my way when I began to beat a hasty retreat to the master bath. At 7 p I took the second of the two tablets and finished off my not so tasty cocktail. And the trotting to and fro began in earnest. This little drama continued till about 2 a. Exhausted, I threw myself into bed at 2:30 a and slept the sleep of the seriously disturbed until 5 the same morning.

I needed no alarm clock. My eyes opened wide in consternation, and I ran for the bathroom for what I hoped was the last time during this event. Having been NPO (nothing by mouth) since Midnight the night before, I fought the urge for that hot life giving cup of coffee that I knew the pot was brewing at that very instant. I also fought the urge to dump the contents down the sink so that Mac couldn't have any either. I'm sort of evil that way. But I took a sip of water with my blood pressure meds, the altace and the ToProl xl...and enjoyed the very wetness of that water against my lips. Mac got up and asked me if I was okay and I assured him that I was. "Piece of cake, " I threw off while feeling as though I could throw up.

At 6:45 we gathered everything I needed to take with me and walked out into a blanket of fog. We could have been in England the fog was so dense. (Lie back and think of England...could this be what they had meant?) Announcing that it was a good thing we were able to get an early start, Mac loaded my few things into the truck. We arrived at 7:30 and I was escorted to the Out Patient Services department. Once taken into what was called a Holding Room, where I was hooked up to an IV and my b/p checked, I waited for the eventual trip to the OR. Mac was allowed to stay with me till the appointed time and he kept asking me why I was so quiet. Okay, if you knew me personally you would know this is an important question. I talk incessantly sometimes. My brain never rests. I had to tell him that I really had nothing to say except "get me out of here" and I knew that if I said it often enough he would oblige me. So, it was best to say nothing. At 9a they came for me.

The nurse chatted lightly to me all the way to the OR area. She was very pleasant and cheerful. It had helped to know that I was not the only person in the hospital for this procedure that morning. I was one of 9, she told me. As we rolled into the OR room that I would be getting my procedure done in, I finally gave in to the inevitable. I was asked by someone, I'm not sure who, if I was ready. I put as much bravado in my voice as I could muster and told them, "lets get this party started, the Pinata is here!"

I came to at about 10:45 and they were bringing me a Sprite Zero and asking me how I felt. Amazingly I felt fine. I asked if was all over and they assured me that it was. Hmmm. Mac came into the room, kissed my forehead and asked how I was. I told him I was fine, that I couldn't believe how upset I had been over what was nothing really. Earlier I had quipped "a piece of cake" and now I knew it really was. The hardest part had been the preparations the day before, the constant run for the bathroom...that had been the worst of it. I was in utter disbelief.
And Mac said that Dr. Dameron had found nothing to be alarmed by in the bowel and no bleeding in my stomach to explain the low hemoglobin, either.

So, children that is why I am so glad that this is July the 9th. It's all behind me, now.
No pun intended.
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