Colonoscopies and hard core eco-nuttiness

You know, sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself. Especially in the midst of misery, laughter can be our only sanity. That being said, Dave and I were laughing about something last night and we thought everyone else might get a good chuckle out of it too...

This past Wednesday, I was scheduled for a colonoscopy. It was an effort to eliminate some of the possible sources of my chronic abdominal pain. Of course, as those of you who have experienced the wonderful fun of having a scope shoved up your butt know, the prep requires a full day liquid diet followed by a series of laxative doses to empty the system before the procedure.

I did just fine on Tuesday's liquid diet although I had a bit of a headache by mid-afternoon. At 5:00PM, I drank a liquid laxative followed by 4 laxative pills at 7:00.  The instructions from my doctor's office explained that my bowels should start to empty by 9:00PM. Yeah, right. 

Now keep in mind, I've had bowel problems for 17 years and have NEVER had trouble going to the bathroom. That is, until you give me a large dose of laxative. Yep. Now I can't! Ugh! So by 9:00PM I had to take a second dose of liquid laxative. That did the trick, of course, not until 1:00AM, but it worked - for 7 hours it worked. 

Ok fine. We arrived at my 10:30AM Wednesday appointment. Not having eaten solid food for 36 hours, I didn't have the energy to be anxious about the procedure. Honestly, I didn't care. I was too tired. I just wanted it done. Dave and I were escorted to a small room where I undressed from the waist down and put my shorts, shoes and purse in a large plastic hospital bag. The nurse returned to ask a few questions and prep my IV. The poor woman tried desperately to find a vein in my arm to poke her little needle. It didn't help that the room was freezing and I was half naked. So she brought me a nice blanket and eventually, she found her mark. 

A quick kiss from Dave and I was wheeled into the procedure room which was heated at no more than 65 degrees (seriously, the nurse checked for me). Yep, this required a second blanket as my legs were visibly shaking. At least now I wasn't worried about how hungry or thirsty I was. I was more concerned about freezing to death. To lighten the mood, I half jokingly asked if I could get the DVD of the procedure (I thought it would be kinda cool), but they laughed at me (I guess not, huh?). Then, in went the drugs and thankfully, I was out like a light.

The next thing I know I'm lying in the recovery room. And out. The next thing I know, Dave is standing there. And out. The next thing I know, the doctor is there. And out. 

Now, my only other experience with colonoscopies was when I took Dave in for his two years ago. Immediately afterwards, we went out to eat, cause, well, he was starving! Me? No way. Dave had to dress me because I kept passing out; I asked him a dozen times if he had my purse, obviously forgetting that I had asked (not that I remember any of this); and of course, I had to be wheeled out in a wheel chair after Dave signed a form saying he wouldn't allow me to drive. Duh!

The one thing I do remember? That stupid plastic bag I had put my personal belongings in? Yeah, I remember telling them that if they were going to throw it away, I wanted to take it with me. THAT'S WHAT I REMEMBER? Heaven forbid I waste a plastic bag. Talk about dedication!

I don't remember getting in the car; I don't remember the ride home; and I only vaguely remember the rest of the day. I was seriously nauseous and still half asleep for the remainder of Wednesday, but managed to nibble on a few snacks. Thursday was spent on the couch. I couldn't even stand without becoming dizzy and I was so nauseous, I desperately wanted to toss my cookies (literally - one of those snacks from my Wednesday evening stupor was a cookie and it was not a happy camper in my tummy).

Finally, about 4:00PM on Thursday (more than 24 hours later), I started feeling better. I got off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to make a little something to eat. What did I find? My plastic bag from the doctor's office waiting for me there on the counter. Oh, brother! Had Dave not been as the doctor's office acting as my designated driver, I probably would have been perfectly happy leaving the doctor's office without my shorts, but I remembered to save my plastic bag. Yeah. I'm pretty sure that qualifies me for an award in the eco-nut hall of fame (or a straight jacket and a nice padded room)...