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When the Best Part of Your Day is Your Colonoscopy…

Why I’m Still Depressed (but I Promise it’s the Last Day):

I had my colonoscopy at 7 a.m.  I woke up from the anesthesia with absolutely no side effects.  I was completely lucid.  I had hoped that I would be slightly loopy, and Cap’n Firepants could post me on YouTube so I could become a viral internet sensation like “David After the Dentist”.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

No such luck.

After fasting for over 24 hours, I was ready for a great meal, but the Nurse Who Apparently Needs to Have Her Own Colonoscopy kaboshed that by saying all I could have was some eggs and toast.  No Starbucks.  No breakfast tacos.  No Diet Coke.  On the way home, I tried to tell Cap’n Firepants that the Nurse Who Apparently Needs to Have Her Own Colonoscopy And I Would Be Happy to Give It To Her was wrong.  Every single one of my colonscopied friends has told me that they went to a restaurant afterward and chowed down.  Cap’n Firepants said, “Now, if every one of your friends jumped off a bridge -”  O.K.  He didn’t say that.  He just shook his head condescendingly, drove me home, and made me some scrambled eggs. He wouldn’t even put picante sauce on them.

The upshot of this whole adventure is that my colon has nothing wrong with it.  Which should be good news.  But that means that my symptoms now get the vague diagnosis of Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  Which makes my bowel not the only thing that is irritated.

Wonderbutt’s nursing skills are about as empathetic as the Nurse Who Apparently Needs to Have Her Own Colonoscopy And I Would Be Happy to Give It To Her Without the Benefit of Anesthesia.  I thought he would cuddle up with me on the couch while I took a nap.  And he did.  What I did not know was that he would end up snoring with his face a centimeter away from mine and that his 65 pounds of puppy love would make me feel like the marshmallow in a Smore.

After I decided to abandon Wonderbutt for my less affectionate, but less nasally challenged, bed, Wonderbutt apparently felt slighted. Before I left the room, I told him to pretend I was at work, but he seemed to interpret this differently than my intended message.

Cap’n Firepants came home that afternoon, and Wonderbutt happily greeted him with something in his mouth.  My glasses.

Ironically, Wonderbutt’s stomach can happily accept my twisted wire frames, and I cannot even eat an apple without experiencing an intestinal Civil War.

Cap’n Firepants seemed to think the glasses incident was amusing.  He said we could probably take the lenses in, and just buy some frames.

I pointed out that it might be difficult for me to see through all of the bite impressions.  He thought the marks on the glass were just slobber, apparently.

I Think I Can Fix These...

I would like to know why Cap’n Firepants suddenly finds Wonderbutt’s escapades funny.

I may not be loopy, but I find it quite difficult to compose a blog post with a giant Diet Coke withdrawal headache crushing my brain.

I can’t see why no one can figure out what is wrong with me, and I can’t see why I can’t have a big feast to celebrate being a big girl and drinking a gallon of MoviPrep.  I especially can’t see why I can’t have a Diet Coke.

And now, as Wonderbutt has communicated quite clearly, I just really can’t see.

 

I Thought MoviPrep Was a Type of Buttered Popcorn

Reasons I’m Depressed (Composed Yesterday, Pre-Colonoscopy):

I just took the first four doses out of 8 of my “pre-colonoscopy” treatment.  Apparently my anti-depressant medication was one of the first things to evacuate my “No Fly” zone.

I am hungry.  I have fasted for less than 24 hours, and if I hadn’t just taken half my medicine I would have raided the pantry by now.  As it is, I am not going to do that because I. Never. Want. To. Ingest. That. Evil. Liquid. Again.  Which is what my doctor will make me do if I chicken out this time.

I was told the Evil Liquid would taste better if I refrigerated it.  They lied.  And if you want to know who They are, join the club.  You’ll probably laugh, and then you’ll probably think, hmm – he might have something there.

Please pardon this interruption for a disclaimer from our Sponsor:  A colonoscopy is a procedure that has saved many lives and should never be put off just because this particular blogger is too much of a wuss to take her pre-treatment stuff like a man.

Moving on:

Even though I was one of the first people I know to enter my e-mail for the Pottermore Beta site, apparently the e-mail they returned asking me to confirm (why do I need to confirm when I already sent them my e-mail?  Do they think I am that fickle?) got sent to my Junk mail, and I lost my chance to participate.

As of noon yesterday, I had 6 hits on my blog.  That is the lowest ever, including the day of my first post.  And I don’t think the earthquake in Oklahoma, the stupid time change, or the lack of electricity in the Northeast had anything to do with it.

Our living room floor looks like it’s afflicted with a skin disease.

I know I should not be depressed because there are many people who have worse problems than me.  Which makes me more depressed.  Because I’m that selfish.

Rick Perry.

Just so you know, I’m not trying to get any Sympathy Comments here.  I hate sympathy comments.  And no Sympathy Facebook Likes either.  I can tell.  Don’t ask me how.  It’s a gift.

And now, please excuse me while I go swallow another dose of my Evil Liquid.

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