Sunday, December 18, 2016

T'was the night before my colonoscopy
and all through the condo
clear liquids were flowing
from my head to my toe. 

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So yeah, here we are again, wandering up the driveway into colonoscopy town. It's our third visit. Some people haven't even been once! Imagine. 



The glorious P-keeping the voyage afloat-with his "You don't want to screw it up now, right?" and by that, he refers to any potential misbehavior on my end-which wasn't going to happen, but it's good to draw some sort of line. And he's right-he's right-he's right. These excursions do not come cheap and are not so easily planned. 

I had to take two shifts off of two different jobs and one is beginning to balk-along the lines of-'Can't you pick a different day for these appointments?' to which I replied, so uhh, what's the penalty when I don't show up, because I'm not going to be here that day(I mean, you don't really want me here that day-I'm tellin' ya.) so, uhh ya know, what are we talking about? You gonna 'write me up' and then how many of those 'write-ups' equal being fired because I need to know that upfront. 

The shift magically disappeared from my schedule. 

Poof. 

And I actually can and have(!) tried to balance different jobs and different days off for doctor stuff but the colonoscopy is a different sort of thing and here's why: If you take the Monday morning appointment, you spend Sunday in the colonoscopy prep position-so you only lose one day of pay. 

I don't know what rich people do. When that happens to me-I'll let you know. 

Prepping the Prep
The milk jug in the upper right hand corner of the photo is a half gallon. 
See how gigantic this is? 


The prep seems different this time. They mailed me instructions which I was supposed to read one week ago(oops) and there were certain things I was supposed to avoid(oops) and so far I haven't had to do anything exceptionally crazy except mix and chill. We put the jug between the two backdoors because it's cold outside. 



I did not add what they call 'the flavoring'. Yipes. 

Starting tonight at 7:00 PM (Central Time) and flowing all the way till 8:30(I know it will take me longer. "Just throw it back" never works for me.) I have to drink half of this giant jug o' joy. 

Then-not long after that-the games begin. 

The second half starts again at 3:30 AM(uh-huh) and goes until 5:00 AM. We have to be there at 8:15 AM when P is just rolling off his night shift so I won't be surprised to find him nodding off in the new and improved waiting area. That's just the way things seem to roll. 

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Asshats


There's a woman I have to come in contact with. She's done a significant amount of cancering herself. People feel badly for her. Me-I dunno, ya know? I don't know if 'feeling sorry' is actually beneficial to anybody. How long does the license to be an a-hole-because you've suffered the indignantcy(Is that a word? It is now.) of cancer-how long before that card expires?  

The first time I spoke to her, she was disappointed that my story seemed to trump her story. (What an unfortunate phrase that has turned out to be-all the way around, huh.) Like it's an f-ing contest. 

More recently, an encounter with her-started with the phrase
"Can I have a word with you?" where she separated me from the group and asked if I would be insulted if she offered me her old pre-cancer clothes from "when she was bigger". "Extra large", she said. It wasn't the offer that irked me-(well, not 100%)it's that she felt free to have that conversation in my workplace. 

WTF. 

The last encounter went exactly like this: Oh. You didn't have radiation, did you? Like this disqualifies me from dancing with the Prince at the Cancer Ball. 

Pffffffffft. 

I did not pass go and went directly to text my comedy cancer-kicking pal. She threw me back a small,yet delightful, ball of swearwordology(thus the title for this segment) and I cannot tell you exactly how much better that made me feel. 

I also went shopping today. I realized that the area of my hernia is completely numb so there's no reason to keep swaddling myself the way I had to when it was swollen and painful. I scored some extremely cool items at the Goodwill(a Perry Ellis Asian print inspired fishy scarf for 3 bucks? Yay me!) And tighter jeans. A little bit tighter anyway. 

As I drove away-I thought about my powers of being able to handle personal criticism. It takes me about a week to recover from an unsolicited personal critique but by then, I can sort the message from the sting. 

And guess what, I'm not preparing for the Cancer Ball. I will always have both eyes on it via my rear view mirror and everything, but that's not my final destination-thankyouverymuch. 
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Next week I am slated to join a Support Group at Gilda's Club. There's a 12 week commitment and I think you're not allowed to share exactly what goes on in the group. Let's see how it goes. 

And now, it's time to drink the goo. 

Umm cheers. 

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