Take a drink from his special cup

So I had my first colonoscopy. I'd like to tell you how it went, but thanks to the sedative and its memory-wiping compound, I don't know. All I know is I was on my side, being pleasant to the folks in the operating room and then I was in bed, in the recovery room, doing that thing where I figure I can sleep for ten more minutes, why not?

The real work of it began midnight the day before, when I had to start my fast. We'd had a late-even-for-us dinner and I had a sandwich right before the hour began, but from 12:01 am Wednesday on? Didn't eat anything. Or drink anything but water, Sprite Zero, and --- starting at 5:45 pm --- the water-mixed-with-laxative that would clean out my digestive tract. I was supposed to start at 5 pm, but I had to get to the Apple Store first, and I'll talk about that in time too.

bunnyhugger kept talking about how terrible it looked that I had to down an eight-ounce glass of this potion every fifteen minutes, for three hours straight, and then finish the rest in fifteen-minute intervals starting at 10 pm. It wasn't bad, though. The mixture wasn't unpleasant; it's not like I was forcing it down. It was a little chalky, moreso as I got to the bottom despite my shaking the jug to re-stir things every pour. My father, incidentally, insists that this is the old-fashioned way and the way he had for his most recent colonoscopy --- two tablets plus drinking his first-ever bottle of Gatorade --- was better. It might be more convenient, but I will say this: eight pounds of medicated water did a good job keeping my belly full enough I wasn't annoyingly hungry. I was hungry, yes, but at a tolerable level.

The day of, I did as promised check in for an hour of work and it turns out this was even useful. I was able to clear up some small problems and let other people complete some pull requests. For those who don't know how revision-control systems work let me explain: these are computer things. I don't know why they're called pulls, because my every instinct says they should be called pushes if anything, but pushes are a different thing, the thing I think should be called a pull. There is a difference between a push and a fetch, but I don't care what it is, and neither does anyone else.

I drove to the hospital; bunnyhugger would drive back. The sedation meant I was prohibited from driving or operating other heavy equipment for the day. Also from working or from signing any legal documents, this because the sedative takes a long time to un-cloud your judgement. I don't think I did anything I would now wish to renounce, but see above comment about the memory-wiping compound.

Everyone talking with me through the intake was amazed at my calm, facing the procedure. I understand people being nervous, but as I pointed out, they're the ones who have to do anything. All I have to do is lie on my side. Which was a bit of a surprise; I had supposed they'd want me on my stomach. I guess the side is easier for them to work. I was also surprised that after they had me strip, they brought out a warmed blanket, and also now I want warmed blankets all winter long. Also, going to the prep/recovery room, they asked if I wanted to go to the bathroom and I declined, and then thought, all I've wanted to do since 6:15 pm yesterday is go to the bathroom, why am I turning down the offer now? Well, nothing bad came of my foolish decision to pass up a bathroom visit.

bunnyhugger described me as looking ``serene'' while in the recovery room, waiting to wake up. She took a picture, sent to my parents, and yeah, I look pretty comfortably asleep there. The doctor debriefed ``me'' and, really, bunnyhugger first. Turns out my colon is in great shape. Only a couple small polyps and one diverticulum, which is below average for my age, so I've got to get to work on that. The nurse would come in later, when I start to have memories again, and repeated or, to me, peated the information. They also prescribe a high-fiber diet, although to be fair you don't get into the colonoscopy trade unless you like prescribing high-fiber diets to people.

They let me walk out. I started out a little woozy, about like what it feels when you took the high-dose melatonin and then stayed up for 90 minutes anyway. But that cleared, even as we were going to the car. Everyone on the staff asked if we had picked where we were going for a special brunch; I had assumed we'd just go home and eat ramen or something. But the suggestion made sense to me, and I picked going to Big John Steak and Onions. This is a mid- and southeast-Michigan chain of cheesesteak sandwich shops. They also have a vegetarian sub that's quite good and that I often enjoyed for lunch before the pandemic began. bunnyhugger's never been. We got lunch there, and brought it home, and bunnyhugger agreed, these are pretty good grilled hoagies. Also along the way we learned that the Hoagiefest which Wawa was celebrating when we first met in July of 2008 was the first Hoagiefest ever, and Wawa's still keeping that going. This has nothing to do with my day or anything, but it's nice to know.

I spent the rest of the day fiddling with my computer and clearing out e-mails and watching DVR'd episodes of The Price Is Right. Also, I called my parents and thanked them for the really good genes. My amazing streak of good health continues.

Oh, another little item health-related but not part of this? My lab results came back, all just fine, along with news from one extra check. I had wondered if I should get the shingles vaccine, as I couldn't swear that I'd ever had chicken pox, but, c'mon, I was born in the 70s. All my friends had it. My siblings had it. I must have had a case too mild to break out in pox. So they tested for the presence of chicken-pox-virus-in-Latin antibodies and it turns out, no! Somehow, despite being born in the 70s, I've never had chicken pox. I know, right? I can't understand it at all.

Trivia: Safe railway passage through tunnels proved the first, essential use of the electric telegraph, as these were circumstances where the use of spotters on top of the train were no help making sure the tracks ahead were clear. Source: The Railway Journey: The Industrialization of Time and Space in the 19th Century, Wolfgang Schivelbusch.

Currently Reading: Archie 1000-Page Comics Dream, Editor Jamie Lee Rotante.