by Pa Rock
Rock of Ages
My graduating class was very small, just twenty-two young souls, and, not surprisingly, we were very close. Five members of our class (or who were closely associated with our class) have passed on, and one other has been battling a serious disease for a long time. I learned yesterday that two more of my classmates are gravely ill.
With all of that as background, please allow me to relate a few notes about the colonoscopy which I underwent this morning. First of all, I woke up early, hungry, realizing that I had overlooked one very important step in the preparation. After taking the initial laxative - triple dose three times - and that awful bottled stuff (three times), and fasting for a complete day, I had completely forgotten the final laxative - two servings of four tablets each. I was really depressed heading in for the procedure, realizing that I would probably be turned away and told to do the same horrid drill again in a couple of weeks.
But I was honest. I asked to see a nurse when I arrived at the surgery center, and I carefully explained my stupidity. Apparently they had faced this issue before. She asked me several questions and then said that the colonoscopy would proceed as scheduled. (She obviously had some training in senility issues.)
I had been flustered leaving the house and consequently forgot to bring along a copy of the mystery magazine which I am currently reading. Finding myself third or fourth from the front for the assembly line colonoscopy, I asked for a magazine and was given a copy of People. That particular issue from last year featured an article on the life and death of comedian Joan Rivers, and told about how she had died after undergoing a routine medical procedure. I knew that would give me something to think about as the anesthesia was kicking in!
However, all's well that ends well, and I awoke feeling fine. The doctor came in to visit and said that he didn't see anything of concern. The nurse asked about my follow-up visit to his office, and the doctor said that I didn't need one. He said that normally I would have another colonoscopy in ten years, but since I am sixty-seven that probably wouldn't be necessary.
Somehow I feel like the train is beginning to leave the station. Look for me in the club car!
Rock of Ages
My graduating class was very small, just twenty-two young souls, and, not surprisingly, we were very close. Five members of our class (or who were closely associated with our class) have passed on, and one other has been battling a serious disease for a long time. I learned yesterday that two more of my classmates are gravely ill.
With all of that as background, please allow me to relate a few notes about the colonoscopy which I underwent this morning. First of all, I woke up early, hungry, realizing that I had overlooked one very important step in the preparation. After taking the initial laxative - triple dose three times - and that awful bottled stuff (three times), and fasting for a complete day, I had completely forgotten the final laxative - two servings of four tablets each. I was really depressed heading in for the procedure, realizing that I would probably be turned away and told to do the same horrid drill again in a couple of weeks.
But I was honest. I asked to see a nurse when I arrived at the surgery center, and I carefully explained my stupidity. Apparently they had faced this issue before. She asked me several questions and then said that the colonoscopy would proceed as scheduled. (She obviously had some training in senility issues.)
I had been flustered leaving the house and consequently forgot to bring along a copy of the mystery magazine which I am currently reading. Finding myself third or fourth from the front for the assembly line colonoscopy, I asked for a magazine and was given a copy of People. That particular issue from last year featured an article on the life and death of comedian Joan Rivers, and told about how she had died after undergoing a routine medical procedure. I knew that would give me something to think about as the anesthesia was kicking in!
However, all's well that ends well, and I awoke feeling fine. The doctor came in to visit and said that he didn't see anything of concern. The nurse asked about my follow-up visit to his office, and the doctor said that I didn't need one. He said that normally I would have another colonoscopy in ten years, but since I am sixty-seven that probably wouldn't be necessary.
Somehow I feel like the train is beginning to leave the station. Look for me in the club car!
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