Since Jason complained, I'll update the blog. We've been a little busy since I had the wonderful experience of having a colonoscopy yesterday. (If you don't know what this is, I'll let you Google it for yourself.) The purpose was to determine the extent of my diverticulosis, which is an old person's disease.


Before you leave a comment, I'll let you know the two things I've heard repeatedly over the past few days that I don't want to hear anymore. When I told someone under 50 what I was having done, the response was, "Oh, my mother/father/grandmother/grandfather/great-grandfather had one of those." Thanks. I'm 28. I am one of the few people in the waiting room at the gastrointestinal doctor's office who is not on a cane, on a walker, or in a wheelchair.


If I told someone over 50, the response was, "I've been through that. The preparation is the worst part." I can tell you that is quite accurate. The preparation is torture. Once again, I'll spare the details. If you're curious, I'll again refer you to Google.


If you make it through the preparation the night before, your reward the next day is drugs. They gave me Versed in my arm. The nurse asked me if I was feeling it. I said, "Yes. Do I get Demmoral?" She said yes. I sacked out.


An interesting side effect of Versed is amnesia. This is why you want someone you trust with you. Patrick waited in the recovery room with me while the anesthesia wore off. He said I asked what time it was about five times. As if it mattered. After I got dressed, I said I wanted to go to the bathroom, and I did, but what he didn't tell me was that I had just been. I didn't remember.


I had fasted two days to prepare for the test, and after we left the doctor's office, Patrick asked if I wanted to go to Krispy Kreme. After two days of broth and Jell-O, this was not a hard decision. (As side note: A real plus for Baptist Hospital is it's close proximity to a Krispy Kreme.) We went through the drive through and he got two doughnuts and two coffees. I snarfed down the doughnut. I kept falling asleep, and I do remember Patrick putting my coffee in the cupholder so I wouldn't spill it.


Patrick got me home, and went out to McDonald's and got me a Filet-O-Fish and fries. That was one of the best meals ever.


We did receive some lovely pictures of the inside of my colon as souvenirs of our day, but I'll not post them here. We're saving them for Christmas cards.