Quick life recap. Last fall, I started choking on meat.
And just like that, you're all caught up.
(Click the link for the official back story.)
After I posted that blog, my helpful and knowledgable readers began suggesting I get my esophagus stretched, to which my reaction was 'absolutely not and let us never speak of this again' because having my esophagus stretched sounded worse than let's say, choking to death or something. Better the devil you know, ya know?
So I went on living as normal a life as possible for someone whose family no longer trusted leaving me alone in a room with a steak.
Then I went to my annual ob/gyn appointment and noting that I'm 50 she informed me that it's time for a routine colonoscopy screening, assuring me that I'd be under sedation during the entire thing.
First of all, I see through your attempt at putting my mind at ease with your word "routine" madam. Second of all, Ron woke up in the middle of his first colonoscopy screening 5 years ago so let's not throw around assurances willy nilly. Consider yourself on notice. I'd hate to have to put you outside the circle of trust.
The problem arose when I mentioned refusing my screening and Ron thought that gave him a free pass to refuse his next one. Three weeks later we were both sitting in the colon doc waiting room angrily filling out our medical history forms. When he noticed I was done, he asked "Did you see the question about having trouble swallowing?"
Let me ask you this. Did you ever hear about minding your own business? Or HIPPA? Or we're at a butt doctor so how does my swallowing apply here?
The doctor was very nice, said he'd schedule me for a colonoscopy, and asked "Anything else?"
I replied, "Will I wake up in the middle of it, because (jerking my head toward Ron) he woke up during his"....and feeling Ron's stare burning into the side of my face, I casually threw in...."and sometimes he has to give me the Heimlich because I choke on meat, but that's probably not even relevant here." *awkward psh* "Right?"
After a brief silence he said, "That's not good. I'm glad you told me because I can help that." Me- "I didn't realize you work on both ends."
Somebody had to say it.
He made a note and told me he'd stretch my esophagus while I was under for the colonoscopy and again asked me, "Anything else?"
As I fought off mental images of me hovering over the surgical bed, slowly spinning like a hog on a rotisserie spit, I said "You'll use different scopes, right?"
He shouldn't ask "anything else" if he doesn't mean it.
He replied, "Oh yes. They're even completely different sizes. Anything else?"
Nope. I'll be damned if I'm gonna ask which hole the bigger scope's going down. Or...up.
I stressed again that it's imperative I stay under deep sedation the entire time, because in case you hadn't heard, Ron woke up during his colonoscopy. He lived to tell about it. I would not.
As the day approached, I seriously debated cancelling, but Kearstin's getting married in October, we're serving meat at her reception, and although her wedding will be well outside the box of "traditional" she made it abundantly clear that the father of the bride inducing vomiting on the mother of the bride with a sudden punch to the sternum during dinner is too far outside the box for her.
FINE. I'll get gagged and bagged. Happy?
I don't know about you, but sitting on the toilet every 20 minutes isn't my idea of fun. It was almost like spending a day in the life of my husband.
The following day on the way to the hospital, we saw a rainbow and Ron said, "See? It's a sign you're not gonna die during your colonoscopy." I said, "Or it's a sign I'm going to, because if I wake up in the middle of it, they're gonna have to kill me on the spot."
When I arrived, I took every opportunity to tell everyone that I needed to be put under deep enough that I wouldn't wake up, because 'he woke up' I'd tell them as I pointed my thumb in Ron's direction and they all assured me that I wouldn't wake up. But can the volunteer at the front desk and the lady checking me in at registration really make such bold claims? And don't act like you know either, parking lot construction worker guy, but nice try.
The nurse called me back and since my reproductive system is the only part of my anatomy that hasn't realized I'm 50 and still works properly, she required me to pee in a cup for a pregnancy test because let's drain her of every last drop of bodily fluid while she's here, shall we? Vampires.
An hour later, I was being wheeled into the procedure room and explaining to the anesthesiologist that deeper is better for me. Then they taped a plastic tube into my mouth, which begs the questions 'why am I awake for this part and are you even listening to me?'
He told me I'd feel a burning in my hand, but it'd be temporary. Then the burning started and I waited for it to stop, but it was getting worse, and I realized that the burning would probably "stop" when I gave in to the sleep, but I needed to stay awake as long as possible to prove that I'm stronger than most and therefore needed extra strong doses, so I kept my eyes wide open because mustn't risk a long blink lest they think I'm under and they reach for my holes, but the tube in my mouth, and that burning, and SON OF A....
I opened my eyes and Ron asked, "Did you sleep through it?"
I said, "Yes, but only after they muzzled me and set my hand on fire."
I think he thought I was hallucinating.
After being discharged and eating my weight in pancakes, I was home in bed and Ron was across the hall where he works from home. Suddenly my eyes popped open in a panic and I ran into his office yelling, "I JUST POOPED MY PANTS!!" not realizing he was in the middle of a business meeting with a live mic.
Discernment has left the building.
Horrible timing and public humiliation are my new spiritual gifts.
When his meeting was over, he found me back in bed with my head under the covers.
He a little too calmly said, "ALL the senior management...and ALL the suppliers..."
I interrupted him with my head still under the covers, "Feel free not to tell me everything!"
And he said, "You started it."
Touche.
Then he said, "Anything else before my next meeting starts?"
.....long silence....
"What if he stretched the wrong tube?"
Eventually, people are gonna stop asking me if I have anything else.
His and Hers Colonoscopy Screenings.
Dating at 50.
(((SHOUT OUT))) to Dawn P for the title idea for this blog entry.
