The drugs were very disappointing.
I had really hoped for something a little more….recreational.
One second I am being pushed into the OR with white cotton heated heavy cuddle-up this is almost like a spa blanket and looking into the face of a very handsome….Argentinian anesthesiologist, a dark curly-haired Polo player… bet he drives a sports car… god he is really short, but look at those dark curls… can’t see the size of his feet from my position, Damn! Wow..very handsome…the vain bitch in me wonders if he likes short pudgy middle-aged women who can make killer soup…
My inner monologue never really shuts up. Even laying naked with a slit up the back please leave it open cotton gown, it will not be silenced.
The next he looks into my eyes says “Bye Bye, you might feel a little stinging…” and proceeds to take a rather large vial of a white milky substance and inject it into my IV.
My monologue continues only momentarily…
STING!…shit this crap burns like a motherfucker…and then almost simulateosly…I wonder if the is the same stuff that killed Michael Jackson?
I started to wonder if it was going to be a slow sleepy decent into oblivion, and as soon as that thought materialized. It happened.
No sleepy decent, no calm feeling, no comforting dreams, nothing. From constant contained inner chatter to nothing.
Then I opened my eyes, the not so magic sleep of childhood ended as abruptly as it began.
I look at the clock. An hour has passed.
Past. Unsettling really.
An hour of you have been unconscious and things have happened to your body you have no memory of, totally unsettling.
Wow the last time this happened it was the ’80’s…remember?
ah no, no I don’t and I would deny it even if I did…..
The nurse hands me my four page patient instructions…complete with full color photos of the inner workings of my colon.
“Can I get you anything?”
All I want is water, one bottle down I ask for another, half way through I start looking at the instructions, the words, three 7 to 9 mm polyps resected and retrieved… pop out immediately.
Ohhhh I told you not to eat that McDonald’s cheeseburger!
I then brave the second and third pages with the proof, the full on color, complete with location guide to find the exact location place, pictures.
Wow… this is easier than a Disney World Map…
It’s then I wonder how sore I am going to be tomorrow considering each polyp seems to have had its own spot light, camera crew and removal team up my ass…
Wonderful, all this without a happy ending or a cigarette great.
I had seen other pictures, seen what a polyp looks like, the little stalks, tiny little mushroom like innocent polyps.
These don’t look like that.
Oh joy! See how the Doc. highlighted the polyps in yellow boxes and made them easier to see?
The yellow boxes make me think of the middle light in a traffic light, which depending on your world view and the cost of insurance means either speed up, slow down, or all stop….
yellow means caution,
yellow means slow down,
yellow light means hurry , hurry through or you’ll miss it?
Miss everything…. you dolt.
I look again and again and again. I am amazed in a rather disconnected way.
An hour ago with no risk factors whatsoever, little miss granola never eat anything from a package girl…was totally sure nothing was going to be found…after all no family history, unless…
Unless you count the lovely time I had in Florida watching my mother-in-law die from colon cancer, isn’t life funny? What a coincidence!
An hour ago it was, “I don’t think we are going to find anything, we are just ruling it out, if we don’t find the cause of your pain it’s off for a CT scan…”
Yea, nice coincidence.
Dr. Raja opens the curtain and takes a seat.
Ha ha funny girl, gotta laugh, gotta admit your word choice is funny…
ah no I don’t…. And while I have your attention, please shutthefuckup.
Quiet inside and out, and I don’t like the fact that he is sitting down.
Sitting means he has more to say than maybe I want to hear.
“So we did find, three what I would call medium to large polyps…they have been sent to pathology, and I recommend another colonoscopy in three years…. you should take it easy for the rest of the day, we will let you know when the pathology report comes in, it usually takes 6-7 days. Do you have any questions?”
Please take note, for future reference, I was quiet, both inside and out.
Great 6-7 days.
Today is December 16, 2010.
Husband out of the country for the second time in less than two weeks, my eldest daughter is going to have to drive my knocked out ass home, where I will still have to wait hand and foot on a grumpy old man who really is dying and before this moment, I had considered to be the biggest pain in my ass.
Merry Christmas to me….
On the way home I am greatly irritated by the automobiles who are shoving happiness in my direction. Little stickers on the windows denoting child and activity, ya great way for the pedophiles to learn your kids names, really smart…. families of fishes, getthefuckover evolution already…and the ultimate in obnoxious, the little reindeer antlers sticking out your windows and a red pom-pom stuck to your front grill…really…like I am supposed to think your Yukon is a fucking reindeer?
I did not take it easy, to do so would have been too logical and really beyond the scope of my ability.
For the few days I made armies of gingerbread men that would break a tooth, but looked wonderful if not quite so anatomically correct…
“Mom what did you do to the frosting?”
I baked shortbread, Empire biscuits, and made more pots of soup than we could consume..
I sorted out the laundry room, scoured the washer, just how the little plastic trays that held the soap and softener get so gross is still a mystery.
I vacuumed the dryer hose to eliminate the ever-present fire hazard of lint build up, and most astonishingly finally found matches to the millions of odd socks that had accumulated atop said dryer for most of the year.
I kept busy during the day, but thoughtful most of the sleepless nights.
I did not worry about finishing law school, or bills, or house repairs or anything that really doesn’t matter.
I thought instead, that I should write, finish the stories, and laugh, a whole lot more.
I could not remember the last time, the last time I had fun…
When was the last time I went to brunch?
When was the last time the warm sun and beach was all there was on today’s schedule?
I told ya,…gotta listen to the flight attendant.
The flight attendant…you know the part about the oxygen mask?
You know…how ya gotta put your own on first,
you know before you help anybody else….
you gotta have yours on first…
The call came on Sunday, the 19.
Had it only been three days?
The Adenomatous polyps were not cancerous, but were premalignant.
I was ok.
There is something to be said about following your gut.
For a long time my body was telling me something was wrong.
I had not only been in pain, but not at ease….
I finally followed my gut, and it saved my life.
But as happy as I am just don’t look at me to stick no fucking reindeer antlers and pom-poms on my car, ever….