For those youngsters out there, the word may not mean anything, other than sounding vaguely distasteful. For you half-lifers (half your life lived by now), you already know you can remove the word “vaguely”.
Most people only have to do this once a decade. Not too bad. My Mom passed from colorectal cancer. As far as I know, she’s the only one in the family, but that qualifies as “medical history”, so that means I’m blessed with the opportunity to do this twice a decade.
Here now follows a blow-by-blow account of my first colonoscopy. Brace yourself!
1) I’ve got a tube inserted in my hand and am answering questions from two doctors (or perhaps a doctor and an anesthesiologist).
2) I’m sitting across from my friend with a breakfast menu in front of me.
That’s my entire procedure.
Or at least all I can remember. Seriously.
I actually asked my friend if he dressed me. I had no recollection from the time answering those questions pre-procedure to the time I was supposed to order some food (trust me, newbies, you will have a REAL reason for eating).
Apparently, I had dressed myself, walked out of the building with my friend and sat down at the table all by myself. Not that I recollected a moment of it. Pardon the expression, but that anesthesia was some good ****!
My next opportunity for space cadet will be the week after Halloween. Nothing is allowed to interfere with Halloween. Nothing.
I’m enlisting my same friend for chauffeur duties this year (you can see the reason why). Even if we go to the same breakfast place, I’m thinking I may once again be asking, “Where am I?”