Tuesday, July 24th

NOT what I usually eat for breakfast, but it’s on the list of things I’m allowed to “eat” today.

If I can see through it, I can eat it; the Clear Liquid Creed.

I gotta really be able to see right through. 

I guess visualizing through it doesn’t count?

It said I could have a cup of coffee with no cream. 

I tried to see through the black coffee but couldn’t so thought if maybe I added just a bit of cream, just a little bit, it would become more transparent.

It didn’t.

I drank it!

Not good with rules!

So you can already guess this is about a medical something.

If I tell you that at 4:30 this afternoon I’ve gotta mix 6 ounces of some wretched stuff in with enough water to make SIXTEEN ounces and drink it, along with THRITY TWO  MORE ounces of water, all within an hour…..can you guess what I’m in for?

I’m not gonna say it, cause that’ll make it real and I don’t want it to be real.

I’m not even sure I can share this day OR tomorrow morning with you my reader friends but my fingertips have decided the best way to get through this is to punch on the keys.

This will be the fourth time I’ve gone through this prehistoric, mortifying, cringeworthy, disgusting procedure and like the previous three times, I swear this is IT. 

NO MAS! 

It’s the stuff they tell me afterwards about found polyps that keeps me comin’ back for more.

This time…..this time I mean it, this is IT! 

I fill my faithful companion water bottle with ice cold water and begin the day.

It’s ten A.M., I walk into the kitchen thinking of food and notice my postings; on the cupboard doors, above the stove, on the outside of the fridge, over the sink…there’s even one one taped to my computer.

NO FOOD!

I bring my water and read what’s on the computer this morning.

Mmmm that Avacado, Chicken Salad Robyn just posted looks so good!

Time for a jello.

The sign posted inside my fridge reminds me NO FOOD!

I wanna take just one maybe two, of those amazingly sweet, little tomatoes sitting right there in a bowl next to the green jello.

I take one over to the window and hold it up to the light.

Try as I might, I can’t see through it!

I eat the green jello, slow.

It’s good, I like it…..I like jello, I like green jello.

Today, I LOVE green jello!

And I drink water. 

Now it’s noon.

Lunch time.

I sip a cup of chicken broth.

Oh so good!  

Wouldn’t even want it full of chicken and noodles, nope, who needs that?

More water.

Two o’clock. Just walked by a big bowl of fresh fruit on the kitchen table.  

Plums, I want a couple plums and a peach, I want one of those peaches and the tomatoes ripening on the window sill, I want them too! 

Jello, I’ll have green jello.

I decided to eat it real slow and try to chew it.

Didn’t work.

Ya can’t really get into chewing jello.

A big wobbly spoon-full fell on the carpet.  

Mr Lincoln was there in a flash, he likes green jello too.

More water.

Four o’clock.  

Time for Mr Lincoln & LooLoo to have dinner. 

They clean their plates in minutes, I watch them eat.

I’m hungry!

I give them their after dinner treats, they look pretty good…..crunchy, little morsels.

They gobble them down.

I’m really hungry. 

It’s jello time!!!!!

Green jello.

And now, it’s four thirty…..the dreaded time.

I open the stuff.  

Maybe it’s not so bad.

I pour it in the 16 ounce cup and dip my finger in it to taste it.

It’s bad…..REAL BAD!

I fill the remainder of the cup with lemonade.

The nurse who gave me the kit, told me to mix it with lemonade.

“It’s not so bad that way,” she said.

That tells me she’s never tasted it.  

It’s BAD!!

My girlfriend told me to use a malt straw instead of a smaller diameter one.  

I dip the straw in, stir up the yellow concoction and take a big gulp and then count four more gulps.

Ohhhhh it’s SO bad!

The straw did NOT help, Karen.

I put it down on the counter and walk away.

Ewww the after-taste.

I decide a chaser of beef broth will kill the taste left in my mouth.

I pour the broth in a cup and warm it up.

Five more gulps, this time holding my nose, an old trick my mom taught me…..it didn’t work.

My mouth was thankful for the quick gulp of broth.  

I feel a horrid look on my face, I can’t make it go away.

Every five minutes I gulp with a chaser of beef broth. 

I struggled with the last five gulps of that CRAP and yes, I meant CRAP and I’m aware of the irony but it’s just not funny.

I did it.  

It’s done.

Well, not really.

Now I’ve got to chug 32 ounces of water within the next sixty minutes.

I did the math.

I think that means about half an ounce a minute or two & one half ounces every five minutes. 

I can do this.

I’m stuffed, I’m not thirsty and I can’t make that horrid look get off of my face but I got this.

I drink some water.

My husband has been warned that what he eats for dinner is what he makes for himself.

He’s a pizza FREAK.  

He maintains he’s never had a bad pizza, EVER.

He even likes frozen pizzas from the grocery store.

Every now and then he craves a grocery store frozen pizza.

Those are the days I go for the frozen White Castle’s.

He just pulled a frozen pizza from the oven, full of pepperoni.

I don’t like pepperoni.

I walk by that cardboard looking stuff on the counter, it smelled pretty good and …..it looks delicious!!!!! 

Today, I think I could eat it!

I drink some water. 

Forty five minutes left to complete this mission.

I have a book and a pair of glasses stationed in each bathroom waiting for me.

More water.  

I’m bursting.

30 minutes left to drink sixteen more ounces of water.

I try not to think that at 1:30 this morning, I have to do this entire routine all over again.

That means I’m not even half-way done til I down these last sixteen ounces.

The entire pizza has been devoured.

It doesn’t matter, I don’t want any.

I don’t want little tomatoes or plums or peaches or dog yummies either.

I don’t want anything…..especially more water.

But I drink some more.

I think of people who do food eating contests.

I may never eat again.

I notice an acorn squash on the counter that my daughter brought over earlier from her friends garden.  

I have to cover it with a dish towel.

I can’t look at food.

I hate water.

Fifteen more minutes and too much water left.

I gulp some down.

Five minutes left.

Looks like maybe eight ounces of water left to go.

It may as well be eighty and……………………….

my stomach hurts!!!!!

Um, I gotta run!

Hi, continuing right along…..  

It’s 8 p.m.

I’m empty.

I’m hungry.

I hate wishing time away but I want it to be tomorrow afternoon.

Ooops, gotta run!

Wednesay Morning, 1:30 A.M. for cryin’ out loud!

It’s bad enough to be pulled from sleep by a blasting alarm at 1:30 A.M. but to be awake at this hour and drinking another dose of that vile concoction is beyond brutal. 

I’ve decided those who choose this field of medicine for their profession, are sadists who disguise themselves as  physicians.  

From the wicked potion we’re forced to drink, to the following 32 more ounces of water to the culmination with a garden-hose-looking piece of equipment all of it…..just plain sadistic.

It’s time.

There’s two conversations going on in my head; one is telling me that I don’t have to do this, I should crawl back in bed and just forget the entire thing like a bad dream.

The other one is demanding I get on with it, I’m half-way there.

I pour the revolting six ounces into the cup and add ten ounces of ginger ale, Vernors to be exact. 

Maybe Vernors will help the taste if even just a teeny bit.

I take six gulps with the malt-sized straw.

The Vernor’s was no match for the foul taste.

The horrid look on my face returns…..I can feel it.

I take a sip of the broth I just poured and warmed.

It helps a little.

Five minutes later and six big gulps.  

I’m fully aware that this is zip point nothing compared to what many people go through…..believe me I know that but, my thinking is clouded over for now.

I have great compassion and empathy but right this moment…..it’s all used up on me.  

My stomach begins to churn, growl and roar.

I think it’s actually trying to say something. 

Five more minutes pass and six more gulps.

Mr Lincoln appeared wondering if I was eating.  

He looks around, no food. 

He goes back to bed.

Six more huge gulps and I’m done!!!!!

Thirty two ounces of chaser water and the worse is over.

I make a dozen or more trips to the bathroom.

I win a few games of Solitaire on my cell phone.

At one point while sitting staring at the walls, I spot a cob-web floating in the air, way at the far corner of the ceiling.  

When this sitting session is over, I go out into the garage, get that Webster thing that reaches high and remove the floating cob web.  

Who does that at 2 A.M.?

It’s 3:30 in the morning.

I’m empty.

6:14 A.M.

The worst part is over…..the prep.

And now on to the main event.

6:30 A.M.

Check in time & paperwork

7:00 A.M.

Stripped of my clothing, now wearing one of their fashionable peek-a-boo gowns with matching hat and booties.

More questions, more paperwork.  

My nurse is Lori and she’s adorable.  Whispers to me she’s 55 years old and hating getting older.  

I tell her it sucks! 

I show her the best vein for an IV but nope, she sees one she likes better AND she misses.  Another stab at the one I suggested and she’s in.  

My nurse Andy pops his cute little head in to say hi.  

I make him raise his right hand and swear that the instruments are sterile and that I’ll be sleeping before this event begins.  

He swears.

Next comes Dr Brown the anesthesiologist.  

I’m not sure about Dr Brown.  

He looks a little grumpy.  

He promises I’ll be asleep. 

I ask if one of the drugs is Propanol and he says yes. 

That’s the Michael Jackson drug.  

Through the curtain appears  the most adorable face ever. 

This doc was highly recommended to me and I’m not sure if it’s because of how talented he is with the garden-hose or if it’s because he’s just too cute.

He knows I’m a bit scared and reassures me all will be fine.  

In we go.

There’s Dr Brown waiting for me.  

I see Andy and ask him to come over and just be near for a moment. 

I feel the sting of the medication going in my arm and I’m moon-walkin’ right on outta there.

Diana is telling me it’s over and I’m fine.

She offers me a cold drink.

I never thought I’d ever want another drink of water but, it tasted so good.

I have to stay there for 30 minutes, that’s the rule and I KNOW I can’t talk her into letting me loose any earlier.

Lobo comes in and smiles big…..in truth, THAT’S the most adorable face ever!

My doc pops his head in.

All went well, 4 polyps removed, see ya in 3 years.

NOPE!

This is the end of our one-way relationship.

I’m NOT doin’ this again!

He’s cute but not THAT cute!

I’m wheeled to the car and told to go straight home and eat VERY light all day.

We head for the nearest Mel’s Diner, a 50’s joint.

I order a grilled ham & cheese with fries and a chocolate malt.

Light enough?

We’re home by 11.

The electrician guy comes and fixes the breaker that won’t let the A/C go on. 

It becomes so cool and comfortable in here.

I crawl up on my bed.

When I wake up I’m gonna see if I can moon-walk.

I fall asleep.