My colon passed with flying colors

A colonoscopy is a piece of cake. Mmmmmm, piece of cake. I'm hungry. Just kidding. I would have never jeopardized my colonoscopy by introducing solids during the Day of Evacuation. But trust me, I wanted to. Every dream, and I had many, involved accidentally eating something I shouldn't which meant ANYTHING. I didn't sleep well the night before my procedure (hereby deemed The Super Dooper Pooper Snooper) out of nervousness or trips to the bathroom. But when I did sleep, it always involved food. Food accidentally being eaten out of habit, out of forgetfulness, out of boredom. I think at one point I actually dreamed of eating birthday cake, and we all know it's no where near my birthday.

But seriously, folks, I worried for nothing. The day before the test you drink nothing but liquids so there really is nothing in you... but liquid. Drinking the mixture, I will admit, isn't the tastiest of potions. Phospho-soda does taste, to quote Dave Barry, like "a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser with just a hint of lemon." So you chug it in a 1/2 glass of water. Then they tell you to chase it with 3 glasses of water. NO SHIT SHERLOCK. It didn't take reading medical instructions to figure that one out. You willingly pour anything down your gullet to get rid of that taste, but it goes away. It does not linger. (Dave Barry took Movi-Prep which I cannot attest to, but I assume it tastes as bad as Phospho-soda.)

I wished my appointment had been in the morning (a) to get it over with (b) so I could come back home and sleep the rest of the day or (c) so I could start eating sooner, but alas, it was in the afternoon. The biggest factor of not eating is boredom. Really. You don't realize how much or how often we stick something in our mouth our of boredom. But once I was taken to the Endoscopy Center, the nurses, anesthetists, and even the person who makes a living sticking tubing up people's butts were wonderful. Before putting the IV in, the nurse brought me warm blankets. They explained everything. My blood pressure was fine. And away we went. You even get chauffeured down the hall in one of those beds with wheels. The one I thought I would get when I had kids, but they made me "jump on down" into a wheelchair after delivering an 8 pound bowling ball. I finally got the escorted bed.

The nurse anesthetist administering the "milk of amnesia" said to think of a nice dream, and before I could think about being in Vegas with Sailor Boy, I was already back in my recovery room with those heated blanket on my legs. I am thinking about getting the "milk of amnesia" for my next tooth cleaning.

Hell, I should have had some for the last 10 years of my marriage.