I’m pretty sure this is kind of a rotten way to follow up a post about a delicious recipe. I apologize in advance. It's been a dreary January, and when my friend, Andrea, reminded me about this email the other day, we both started cracking up and couldn't stop for a while. So, if you're having a dreary January, have a laugh at my expense. Please. :) About a year and a half ago, when I was feeling close to my worst, I found myself on the receiving end of my first-ever two-for-one colonoscopy/endoscopy combo. For the benefit of anyone who may not know, before you can have such a procedure done you have to prepare for it by drinking a gajillion ounces of salty magnesium water and let it clean out your pipes, so to speak. I wasn’t too worried about it beforehand, but it proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated.
When it comes to my medical trials and tribulations, I like to think of myself as strong and resilient - a girl with a go-get-’em attitude. Just tell me what we’ve got to do, and then let’s get it done. Sadly, the email that I wrote to my mom and a good friend the morning of the “incident” does not support that so much.
Totally unrelated pic of us on a totally different day, when I didn’t feel like complete and utter death.
Can you hear the panic in my voice? It’s pretty obvious that I was almost completely, ridiculously out of my mind when I sent this.
Subject: ...Adventures in Sphincter Science...
So... my opinion of this process so far: Boo
I drank all that crap last night, and then puked it all out again! It was soooo awful. When I called the doctor she said there was only one other option - an ENEMA... I didn't know what that was, so I was like, "Oh - okay.."
Steve went and picked some up. I read the box. (Do you know what an Enema is?? Just to clarify - someone ELSE has to administer it... you CAN'T DO IT all by yourself!!!)* HECK NO. THAT. IS. NOT. HAPPENING.
I was tempted to bargain with God. Thought things like, "God - if you get me through this without an enema, I can promise to round up 5 drug lords and 5 terrorists, and tell them all about you." Then I thought, "No, God doesn't like the whole bargaining thing, and besides - I don't know any drug lords."**
I was almost out of options so I cried again.
Finally fell asleep.
When I woke up this morning I was determined to drink that crap and get this job done.
I took a sip. I gagged. Almost puked. Gave up. Called the doctor. Begged for another way. She mentioned the enema again, so I hung up and....
I kept gagging and sipping, but I got through it, mostly.
THANK YOU, JESUS! NO ENEMAS WERE NEEDED!!!!!!! NOW, PLEASE LET ME GET TO THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE WITHOUT POOPING MY PANTS IN THE CAR.***
...Getting ready now. We have to leave in about an hour...
A few updates
*How did I not know what an enema was!?!? To this day, I have no idea. Also, as it was my first-ever such procedure, I had no idea that enemas, in truth, do not require a second person’s involvement. I was going by the illustrated directions on the side of the box, and the written instructions. Aren’t we all glad that we were able to avoid it altogether, then? Yes we are. Amen.
**I don’t actually know any terrorists, either. Unless you count my brothers who harassed me when we were kids, and a few adorable preschoolers who seem to think that mealtime and potty training means negotiation.
***You might be relieved to hear that I did not poop my pants in the car, or anywhere else. I made it alive and safe to the clinic for the “incident”.