See, I have had colon issues since I was a kid. Issues that landed me in various hospitals with tons of tests and missed school (I missed learning how to multiply by 12's and it took me years to get it memorized). I learned mostly how to manage the issues but 5th through 7th grade had some hard times. It entails incredible, horrible, sharp, stabbing, burning, I want to kill somebody right freaking now- pain in your abdomen. Again, the wonderful and massively expensive Mayo Clinic figured out the answer and I adjusted my diet for a while and was fine. I did however, endure several really horrible "cleanses". I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.
Interestingly enough, now that I'm 23, I'm back where I was at 11 and 12- on the potty. I have had some new and alarming symptoms that mean I get to endure being the "butt" of some surgeon's joke I'm sure- but(t) of course, first my own. (ha. ha.)
I have helped others prep for this procedure. However, my doctor felt that because of what's going on, I have to do special "extra" prep! Like, not eating any actual food 2 days before the procedure and cleaning out my whole body in that period.
". . . fire of a thousand enemas. . ."
There's pills, then mix powder, then magnesium citrate, then the drink from the bowels of hell. I already can't stand the M.C. it's this sparkling, sour, horrible, lemon death juice. That had nothing on the GALLON of bullshit I had to drink. It was another salacious lemon drink. (Why does it have to lemon? Why is it always lemon?) Alone, I couldn't even sip it. I gagged on the first drink, (so did Kai and he likes the magnesium citrate so that's saying something). I had to drink a gallon of this and I wasn't going to get far.
First we cut it with Serra Mist. No go Johnny Rogers, still feculent. Then I had this idea to add Mag. Citrate to that. Finally, we had something I could stomach (HA!). I drank half a the gallon, plus the bottle of magnesium citrate,. plus the pills, and the powder.
I never want to poop again.
In one of those hilarious Gummy bear reviews, a women describes her experience like napalm out her rear. I really hate being able to empathize with that. Kai and I developed a system. I would just start running trying not to say "SHIT" (little ears you know) because it's like my body's early warning system just fails. My brain is like "NOPE- good luck with that." It's really sad that a big point of pride today is not having pooped my pants.
I usually have more modesty than this but honestly I can't even care. This is no fun.
I want a cheeseburger the size of my face
I am so hungry I would eat food I hate. I would eat brussel sprouts right now- with cheese. ohhh cheese. I would eat straight glorious cheese- and bacon- ohh bacon- on a delicious amazing enormous greasy, cheeseburger.
Kai promised me I could have whatever I wanted when I get done tomorrow. I want a cheeseburger as big as my face. As big as my head. I want the mother of all cheeseburgers. I want to feel my arteries clogging and my love handles thickening and I want to drown it in cheeseburger.
I better get the good drugs. . .
It is 3:26 in the morning. My procedure is at 11. That's like 6 and half more hours. Thank the Lord for good books and the internet.
All in all at least tomorrow we will hopefully have some answers. It's possible I'm facing cancer, it's possible I'm facing a G I bleed, it could be this or that or whatever. After church this past Sunday, I feel basically at peace with that. I'm not afraid, I just want to know. However, I really just want to get through the next six and half hours so I can wake up and have a cheeseburger.
I may actually ask Kai to get one while I'm in there so I can eat it in the car. I'm that serious. I may need a brief series of cheeseburgers- like start at Wendy's, then it Culvers, and end at Hillbilly Jack's. I may need an array of cheeseburgers. This is a need. This is happening.
Thanks for reading guys and if you are the praying kind- send one up for me tomorrow! Thank you kindly.