Oleson's Adventure or It's Not The End of The World
Oleson's Adventure or It's Not The End Of The World
So I am back from the colonoscopy...I was a good boy. I drank only liquids yesterday, and I took my first dose of Fleet Phospho Soda last night. When I had the procedure done three years ago I drank the ginger/lemon flavored Phospho Soda......The Soda has the consistency of jello that has been left on the kitchen table over night, and it's salt content rivals that of the Great Salt Lake. I still shudder thinking of it..
On Monday at Miller Drug I bought two bottle of unflavored Phospho Soda. Last evening I mixed one bottle with ginger ale and holding my nose , I drank it right down. It wasn¹t too bad. Horrible, but not too bad. I then retired to the smallest room with a couple of Bill Bryson books and let nature take its course.
Around 10 I went to bed and had a series of dreams that included my swimming through a murky swamp in Florida, a large balloon expanding and expanding in my stomach, and President Bush screaming at me "You are next, asshole, you are next." I arose at 6 and poured myself another tonic of the demons, and finished Bryson¹s book A Walk In The Woods....which is what I wish I were doing. 8:15 came along and with it a butterflies-in-the-stomach sense of nausea.. so I worshipped the marble throne for 15 minutes.....
If it isn¹t one end, it¹s the other. Just as I was recovering from Dry Heave City, Arizona, and mopping my sweaty brow and wiping the tears from my cheeks....my good friend Sandra showed up to take me to the hospital.
At 9:40 I got all johnnied up....jumped up on the traveling table....and off to endoscopy land. Whenever I get into a hospital johnny I think of Richard Nixon when he was in Bethesada Naval Hospital for a checkup. He would put on the johnnie with the open part in the front, and he would walk the halls shaking hands with folks.
A cheerful young Indian named Dr. Singh came in and introduced him. We shook hands and I said, "Namaste."
He said, "Thank you."
I think he appreciated that. I thought he might be gentler with me if I said "Namaste."
Dr. Singh said, "If you have polyps you should come back in 5 years. If you don¹t have polyps you should come back every 10 years after that. How's that for a plan? Now......for the good stuff!"
"Good stuff!" Indeed. Those are the last words I heard until I came out of my Fentanyl induced sleep 45 minutes later.
(A word about Fentanyl...I LOVED IT!. Fentany is 80 times more potent than morphine and 100's of times more potent than heroin. If a guy in torn jeans, a long black coat, and baseball turned backwards approaches you in the park and asks if you want a lollipop or a Perc-O-Pop you know that you have hit the real deal....a raspberry flavored lollipop on a stick. An analogue of Fentanyl called Carfentanil is 10,000 times more potent that morphine and is used to put elephants into a stupor.) Well, that's probably more than you need to know about that I think.)
I awoke and wondered when they were going to go where no man as gone before..I had not realized that the procedure was over. I looked around and I was the only one in the room. I checked the clock on the wall...I had been unconscious for almost an hour. A nurse came in and said I could get dressed and and that I could leave as soon as my ride arrived......I de-johnnied...put on my undershorts with the martini glass design...got into my socks, shoes, jeans and shirt and scouted around the recovery room.
On a clipboard were two yellow notes...one was a full page Discharge Instruction Form and the other a three by five inch note....The short note was from Dr. Singh...It read "You did well. You had hemorrhoids. Next exam 5 years."
Sandra came into the recovery room and asked how it had gone. I said, "Well, there is good news and bad news. They didn"t discover oil so that means that Bush probably won't invade. They didn¹'t find Amelia Earhart either, and they didn't find my head in there."
One more paper to sign and I was on my way. As I passed the dozen or so people sitting in the waiting room awaiting their rite of passage....I exclaimed, "Free at last....Free at last....Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last." Three people smiled; the rest just looked very soberly at me. The escorting nurse said,"You are scaring the patients."
On the way home I realized that the doctor had not offered to send me any full color photos of my inner being like they did the last time I had a colonoscopy. I still have those photos saved if anyone really would like to see them. Seriously....
So I am back from the colonoscopy...I was a good boy. I drank only liquids yesterday, and I took my first dose of Fleet Phospho Soda last night. When I had the procedure done three years ago I drank the ginger/lemon flavored Phospho Soda......The Soda has the consistency of jello that has been left on the kitchen table over night, and it's salt content rivals that of the Great Salt Lake. I still shudder thinking of it..
On Monday at Miller Drug I bought two bottle of unflavored Phospho Soda. Last evening I mixed one bottle with ginger ale and holding my nose , I drank it right down. It wasn¹t too bad. Horrible, but not too bad. I then retired to the smallest room with a couple of Bill Bryson books and let nature take its course.
Around 10 I went to bed and had a series of dreams that included my swimming through a murky swamp in Florida, a large balloon expanding and expanding in my stomach, and President Bush screaming at me "You are next, asshole, you are next." I arose at 6 and poured myself another tonic of the demons, and finished Bryson¹s book A Walk In The Woods....which is what I wish I were doing. 8:15 came along and with it a butterflies-in-the-stomach sense of nausea.. so I worshipped the marble throne for 15 minutes.....
If it isn¹t one end, it¹s the other. Just as I was recovering from Dry Heave City, Arizona, and mopping my sweaty brow and wiping the tears from my cheeks....my good friend Sandra showed up to take me to the hospital.
At 9:40 I got all johnnied up....jumped up on the traveling table....and off to endoscopy land. Whenever I get into a hospital johnny I think of Richard Nixon when he was in Bethesada Naval Hospital for a checkup. He would put on the johnnie with the open part in the front, and he would walk the halls shaking hands with folks.
A cheerful young Indian named Dr. Singh came in and introduced him. We shook hands and I said, "Namaste."
He said, "Thank you."
I think he appreciated that. I thought he might be gentler with me if I said "Namaste."
Dr. Singh said, "If you have polyps you should come back in 5 years. If you don¹t have polyps you should come back every 10 years after that. How's that for a plan? Now......for the good stuff!"
"Good stuff!" Indeed. Those are the last words I heard until I came out of my Fentanyl induced sleep 45 minutes later.
(A word about Fentanyl...I LOVED IT!. Fentany is 80 times more potent than morphine and 100's of times more potent than heroin. If a guy in torn jeans, a long black coat, and baseball turned backwards approaches you in the park and asks if you want a lollipop or a Perc-O-Pop you know that you have hit the real deal....a raspberry flavored lollipop on a stick. An analogue of Fentanyl called Carfentanil is 10,000 times more potent that morphine and is used to put elephants into a stupor.) Well, that's probably more than you need to know about that I think.)
I awoke and wondered when they were going to go where no man as gone before..I had not realized that the procedure was over. I looked around and I was the only one in the room. I checked the clock on the wall...I had been unconscious for almost an hour. A nurse came in and said I could get dressed and and that I could leave as soon as my ride arrived......I de-johnnied...put on my undershorts with the martini glass design...got into my socks, shoes, jeans and shirt and scouted around the recovery room.
On a clipboard were two yellow notes...one was a full page Discharge Instruction Form and the other a three by five inch note....The short note was from Dr. Singh...It read "You did well. You had hemorrhoids. Next exam 5 years."
Sandra came into the recovery room and asked how it had gone. I said, "Well, there is good news and bad news. They didn"t discover oil so that means that Bush probably won't invade. They didn¹'t find Amelia Earhart either, and they didn't find my head in there."
One more paper to sign and I was on my way. As I passed the dozen or so people sitting in the waiting room awaiting their rite of passage....I exclaimed, "Free at last....Free at last....Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last." Three people smiled; the rest just looked very soberly at me. The escorting nurse said,"You are scaring the patients."
On the way home I realized that the doctor had not offered to send me any full color photos of my inner being like they did the last time I had a colonoscopy. I still have those photos saved if anyone really would like to see them. Seriously....
posted by Rev. G. | 1:04 PM
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