Yesterday morning I awoke at 3:02 am ready for my last dose of prep solution for my 8:15 am colonoscopy. This was the second bottle followed by three eight ounces of water within an hour. God how I hate this procedure but it has to be done, considering the alternative.
I drunk then waited for the solution and water to work its way through my body for the final clean out. It worked. God did it ever work.
We left early for my 8:15 am appointment at the colonoscopy pavilion. What's with the "pavilion" anyway? I wasn't in the mood to ask.
We arrived at the office and again I had to show my ID, insurance cards and fill out yet another set of medical forms including all my prescriptions. Didn't I just fill that out at the pre colonoscopy appointment I asked? She said "We need it on this form." She wasn't happy with my question. I didn't care.
I filled out what I could including my prescriptions, which is a list that is growing and growing. Then I took my seat an awaited "the call."
And "the call" came in not too long. Several other people were called before me, some in for an endoscopy and some for a colonoscopy, all performed by the same doctor. The thought raced though my mind "I hope he doesn't get me mixed up with someone who is getting an endoscopy and gives them a colonoscopy." But I quickly divorced my brain of that possibility. They have so many checks before the procedure that it's hard to get the two mixed up.
I was escorted into an area sectioned off with curtains and told by the doctor's assistant to "remove all your clothes and put this gown on." And we all know what "gown" that is don't we? The one that is open in the back. "All the better to see you with" said the Big Bad Wolf to Little Red Riding Hood.
After removing all may clothes but leaving my socks on (which I was given permission), the anesthesiologist came in and introduced herself. She said she remembered me from my procedure three years ago. She asked if I had any questions. I said "I don't want twilight, I want to go completely under." She said "We'll give you a good nap." Then she inserted the IV in my right hand. I hate IV's. They hurt and stay hurting the whole time they're in. Man up Ron. Then they wheeled me in on the gurney into The Room where the procedure is performed. I always like those rides down the hallway on a gurney. Makes me feel important. Like I'm somebody. God knows I've ridden enough gurneys the past five years what with my prostate cancer, kidney stone, and leg operations. I've lost count.
My doctor was waiting. I saw the TV monitor screen where my intestines will be displayed once The Instrument is inserted in my anal area (ass).
I also saw my anesthesiologist. She smiled at me. As I greeted her I felt a "funny" feeling go up the back of my neck. Oh I know what THAT is. I had the same experience during one of my kidney stone attacks when I was in the emergency room begging for relief from the intense pain. The nurse at that time said I would "feel" the solution go up the vein in the back of my neck to my brain and viola! No pain. This time I knew I was going out so I said "Uh oh, goodbye!" Of course I don't remember actually going under nor do I remember coming too; just that I was there and then I was told "It's all over." Oh how I LOVE that anesthetic. When I die and we will all surely die, that's the way I want to go. Unfortunately we don't have much of a say in how we go but if he did, that's the way I want to go. Just a little tingle up my neck then void. Nothingness. Sorry folks, no Heaven. And to you fire and brimstone evangelicals, no Hell either. Just a BIG NOTHING.
My doctor came by and told me "Everything looks fine. We found three small polyps but that isn't unusual for someone who has had polyps like you have had." He told me to call back in a week for the results of the biopsy. He seemed confident that I was fine and folks I was vastly relieved that he didn't find cancer. VASTLY. So relieved in fact that I felt I had a new lease on life albeit a short one since I am so old.
Bill had to drive me home since I was still woozy from the anesthesia. A nice high I might add. Bill was a little nervous making the three mile drive home on Route One. Traffic wasn't heavy but Bill doesn't have the confidence like he used to driving. Next time I'll have to get someone else to drive me. I would hate to have an auto accident after having dodged cancer.
By the way, Bill's eyes are better. More on that in a future blog post.
I'm here at work now, feeling free and renewed and ready to tackle the next challenges in our little corner of the world.
Now I'm ready to go to my 60th class reunion on June 8th.