My first, and hopefully last, colonoscopy showed no problems, no polyps. Good! Now I don't have to do this again for ten years, if ever.
I think the worst thing about this event was the fact that I developed some sort of cold, with a 100 degree fever and cough, two days before this was scheduled, and it held me in its throes right through the procedure.
Tuesday I wasn't allowed to eat any solids, but I had a half-gallon of Crystal Light mixed with Miralax to consume within a two-to-four-hour time period that afternoon. It didn't taste bad, and at first I thought it would be no problem to consume it all. By the time I'd worked my way through 3/4 of it, though, it got pretty rough. The fever, with its subsequent headache and chills, didn't help. At that point, nothing would have tasted very good. And I kept going to sleep in my chair, which didn't help me as far as getting all that liquid downed.
At eight o'clock, as soon as the vile stuff was gone, I went to bed; I was sleeping in my chair anyway, so why not? Nothing had happened; four laxative pills and a half-gallon of laxative liquid mixture, and nothing. An hour later I was awakened by a rumbling tummy: the time had come!
Due in part to my fever, when I awoke yesterday morning I had an incredible thirst. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed a drink, but I rinsed my mouth out with water a couple of times, and that helped. Right out of bed my temperature was 101; I would loved to have taken a Tylenol, but I didn't know if I was supposed to, so I didn't.
Now, I had received paperwork in the mail to fill out, but when I got to the surgical center, nobody wanted it. Instead, they had me fill out a whole new set of papers. Oh well, I guess it's good penmanship practice.
Just before my procedure a nurse ran a thing over my forehead and said, "Oh my, your temperature is 100!"
"Yes," I answered. "That's why I called in yesterday, to see if that was going to make me postpone this thing."
What she didn't know was that my normal temperature is 97.5, so I actually had more fever than she realized.
Anyhow, the show went on. Once I was wheeled to the room where they'd do this thing, the last thing I remember is the doctor introducing himself, and then the nurse telling me to turn over onto my left side.
As I stated before, I got the all-clear: no polyps, no problems. I came home, took an Arthritis Tylenol, and catnapped in my chair all day. I wasn't very hungry, but I ate a little.
Am I the only person that wonders what motivates a doctor to take up this line of work? Sheesh.
Anyhow, I'm down five pounds since Monday; I'll let you know if it stays off.
Oh, by the way: Cliff has caught whatever cold or crud I've had. He doesn't seem very appreciative.