And it's very nice. I vacuumed already and I'm cleaning up the litterbox area in the garage.
Brian made a great breakfast this morning and he cleaned up the cooking mess, which was great. I started up the dishwasher and as I was doing so, the phone rang. I've got one of these things that speaks out the number of the caller (if you want one, leave a comment, for five bucks I'll send you one and that's just the cost of shipping, I picked up a couple years ago in a Woot! off because I thought they were cool) and I didn't recognize it.
It wasn't a toll free number, so I answered it. It was Scripps Clinic. Maybe to remind me that I need another blood sugar reading? Or that I need to make an appointment for this thing on my back?
Oh, no, hallelujah! It's for my colonoscopy! They rememembered!
We have an opening on October 17th. No. That's the day after my birthday. Well, how about October 21st? No. Never. I don't want one.
Honestly, I'm not afraid of going under, I'm not afraid of a small camera being carefully guided through my lower nether regions.
I don't want to to the prep. I don't want to not eat anything with iron in it the week before (thins the blood). I don't want to drink the kool-aid (nasty thick goopy foul tasting stuff). I don't want to eat and drink clear stuff for two days or whatever it is.
I don't mind the laxative thing, I've had some sort of bowel problem since my early twenties that have me taking laxatives and pain relief to stop the pain. I even went to Urgent Care a million years ago and they couldn't find anything wrong with me. I asked my doctor at the time and he said if it's not happening all the time, if it stops hurting and goes away, it's not going to kill me. And as long as what I do takes care of it, it no longer alarms me. As I've gotten older, it happens less and less.
I guess I'll just stock up on chicken broth and jello. Wow. Over a month's worth of anticipation. And here I thought this year I could relax and enjoy the changing of the seasons....
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