I survived my colonoscopy. I’m always a little nervous when I am put under anesthesia; it’s controlled dying. But here I am, still alive.
I, of course, embarrassed myself. I have a tendency to babble when I am nervous. So the nurse getting me ready had to put up with a lot of dad-jokes. Even worse is that I try and be helpful. Right before they were going to put me under, I admitted I had a slight need to go to the bathroom (number one). If it was normal circumstances I could hold it easily, but if I am being made unconscious, who knows what will happen. After all the care of them rolling me in a bed into the operating room, they just let me walk out to the bathroom with just a request that I cover up th back of my robe.
When it was time to put me under anesthesia, I started doing the “Gashleycrumb Tinies” poem. The last thing I remember is “G is for George smothered under a rug.” No one could tell me if I continued on after that.
They did tell me that I rolled a lot, and I was halfway out of my gown when I woke up. I was still out of it, so I didn’t care.
No polyps, so I don’t have to get checked for another ten years.
Of course they forgot to remove the heart monitor stickers on me. I was still dazed when I left, so I didn’t remind them. I finally ripped them off this evening. Chest hairs were lost.