I woke up feeling absolutely hollow this morning...
I survived my colonoscopy today and all is well. Honestly, I had terrible reservations about the ordeal, because unfortunately last time I woke up smack in the middle of the procedure begging the doctor, "Please STOP." I remember the exact year, because I recovered on a friend's couch while watching film footage of the first World Trade Center bombing in '93. My sister worked in the complex at that time. Since 1993, my physician has been pleading with me to have another colonoscopy. Last week, he crossed his heart and swore I wouldn't wake up this time (new anestisia), and I didn't. In three years, the only thing I'll protest is the Magnesium Citrate. I'd rather fast for a week than have to drink that nasty stuff again.
I'm spending the rest of the day EATING and watching movies. So far, I've watched a young Jon Voight stumbling over a very fake German accent in The Odessa File and found it interesting. I could actually see some Angelina Jolie in that long youthful face. I also kicked back and watched Oprah, the one about the newlywed wife whose husband was murdered on their honeymoon cruise. Golly, was that sad. I've eaten a lovely salad, spaghetti, and peanut M & M's and I don't think I could manage more- a bonus of a shrunken stomach.
I'm not allowed to run or lift for five days. Guess they think I'd bust a gut. When I objected the nurse placated me with, "Just take a nice walk, honey." I'm not convinced she keeps a regular workout program, because she didn't catch on to my anxiousness on the subject. And she told me "not to operate any machinery" with clever grin and glance over at my husband "including the stove." Buck cooks all the time, and quite frankly is far and away better at it than me.
I anticipate tomorrow will be a glad return to ordinary time for me.
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