Someone said to me just last week that my life is now like an “open book”, and that will only be proved more true by my subject today.
I’m fasting. No, it’s not a religious thing. It’s a FORCED fast. On Wednesday I’m having one of those “procedures” that, without going into all the yucky details, is preceded by drinking 40 gallons of gunk and then taking up residence in the powder room for a day and a half. My “procedure” isn’t scheduled until 2 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon. Therefore, I am forced to be on a clear liquid diet all day Tuesday and Wednesday until after the “procedure”. I already have a headache from missing breakfast, and it’s only 10:15. I don’t start drinking the gallons of gunk until 6 p.m. tonight, so I can’t even fill up on THAT until late in the day.
11:10 a.m. Define “clear liquids” for me. According to my “cheat sheet” from the doctor, that means ginger ale, broth, water, coffee (black), and orange or yellow jello. If it’s black, orange, or yellow – how can it be “clear”?
11:50 a.m. This is my second “procedure” of this kind. Three years ago, upon reaching a certain age, my doctor ordered the first one to establish a “base line”. A slight “glitch” in the results of that first test, and having a father who had colon cancer, makes me one of the lucky ones who gets to have the “procedure” more often than most. But that’s ok. Ted and I are both learning – as we grow older – that we now have many more exciting topics to talk about with our children and friends. I used to SWEAR I would not turn into one of those little old ladies that talks about all her health issues – and here I am writing a BLOG about it. Good grief!
12:08 p.m. Excitement! I am flying into the kitchen as soon as I finish this paragraph to open a can of chicken broth, pour it into my cutest winter mug (I think the one with the gingerbread man on it), and curl up on the porch to sip it slowly for as long as I can keep it heated. I will try to pretend that the mug is filled with bar-be-qued chicken fresh from the grill, roasted corn on the cob, and a big green salad on the side (I’ll let you know later how that worked for me).
1:18 p.m. It didn’t work. Chicken broth is chicken broth. Maddie and Bear were pretty excited about it though. They got to finish cleaning the mug out for me – after I had already licked the inside of that cup down as far as my tongue would reach. This is really stupid – I just ate dinner 19 hours ago. I am NOT wasting away, I am NOT wasting away.
3:03 p.m. Ted just came home from Albany with a truck full of groceries, complaining that he is STARVING! He has just made himself two turkey and swiss cheese sandwiches with a side of potato chips. “What did you have for lunch?” he asked, smiling. “A mug of chicken broth with a half-cup of orange jello,” I said sweetly. “Yuck,” he said, reaching for the rest of the chocolate chip cookies I baked yesterday. I left the room.
5:01 p.m. One more hour, and I can start drinking gunk. How can I be excited about that? Maybe because the faster we get this show on the road, the faster it will be over.
6:13 p.m. 1/4 of the gunk down. The other 3/4 has to go down 1/4 at a time every 15 minutes, followed by 16 oz. of MY CHOICE of clear liquid. Does that include vodka?
7:29 p.m. I’ve swallowed all the gunk PLUS the 16 oz. of liquid – I chose plain ole tap water. Wednesday morning at 8 a.m., I get to repeat the process again.
A few years ago Katic Couric chose to have a colonoscopy on live TV to encourage others to have the test performed. She had just lost her husband, at the age of 42, to colon cancer. Now this little blog might reach a maximum of 200 people – 300 on a good day, and I’ve tried to put a light hearted spin on a very serious subject. Colon cancer can be cured if detected early. My daddy had surgery when his was discovered and never even had to have radiation or chemo. Got it all – no problem.
Having already had the test once, I can assure you that the day BEFORE the test is a lot worse than the test itself. And you have to look at the bright side of the “day before” affects: 1) It’s a great way to start a diet; 2) If you schedule your procedure correctly, i.e. the day before a big holiday party, you are guaranteed to be able to get into that slinky new black dress; and 3) when you get home (and wake up), your husband will have prepared a delicious meal for your “welcome back to the world of food” dinner.
The test itself is painless and YOU’RE ASLEEP! What else can I say about that? Nothing – I don’t remember any of it.
So here’s where I sign off, friends. There won’t be a new blog on Thursday, because I plan to come home Wednesday after the test, eat something solid, drink something colorful, and then go back to sleep.
Oh, if you think about it, I’d sure appreciate your prayers that they don’t find another “glitch” this time. God bless.