How I Spent My Morning

From the 1980's and 90's, a comedian named Dennis Wolfberg, whose appearance is a little strange, but whose language and intelligence are very enjoyable. He also had a recurring role as Gooshie, one of the scientists on the classic TV show Quantum Leap.  Enjoy. Afterwards, some discussion.   

So, this morning I went through a similar, though much less painful, procedure at the hospital. It is less painful because I was not awake at the time.  I think Nate and I would like to get some of this stuff to use at bedtime. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Fox, said, "OK, we're going to start the IV now," and I thought, "Well, I wonder how long this will...." They should package this stuff. Much better than Ambien. I will tell you up front that although I have to wait a week or two for the lab tests to come back to be sure, the doctor was confident that everything was fine. I have pictures that the doctor snapped (wallet-size, like Wolfberg mentioned), but Ann won't let me put them in this post. I think she is turning her back on nearly 40 years of being an educator, but I will honor her wishes. I always want to seize the teachable moment and there's nothing better than a visual.     

You are supposed to have your first colonoscopy by the time you are 50, so I am running about nine years late. My doctor, Dr. Carlson, has been telling me to have this done for several years. He leads off the discussion the same way every year when I go in for my annual check-up. "Think about how stupid you are going to feel if you end up dying of colon cancer when it is a very treatable disease if caught early."  I have known Dr. Carlson for almost 30 years as a patient, and taught his kids in high school and coached two of his sons in high school football, so we know each other pretty well. I have also been bombarded by friends somewhat younger than me who have gone through the procedure recently and don't understand my reticence. Let me try to explain it.  

First, the whole process is somewhat low on the dignity scale. Just the act of putting on a hospital gown is disconcerting. Some people look good in a backless gown, but not me. And let's not start on the little footies.  

Secondly, you are in a very vulnerable position during the procedure, and who knows what the doctor and the nurses are doing while you're out.   

Next is the issue of anesthesia. As an adult I have been knocked out for two knee surgeries and now a colonoscopy. It will seem ludicrous, but part of the trouble I have getting to sleep every night is that the act of giving up consciousness is somewhat scary to me. So I'm hesitant to turn out the lights. That plus I can't get my brain to stop singing whatever stupid song is stuck in there. Once in a while it is something from Phil Ochs or Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and that's cool. But just as often it's someone like Sonny and Cher.     

Primarily,  there is the lack of interest in knowing. That may sound strange, but there is always the irrational feeling that as long as I don't know about it, it doesn't exist. Ostriches have nothing on me.  I have talked about this with other people my age and find that this is a fairly common sentiment. We are immortal, don't you know, and those obituaries I've been reading are other people, not me. Where our health is concerned, we are not always at our most rational. Hence the many health and dieting scams to be found on TV and on the internet. And thus our poor choices in food, beverages, or hobbies.    

The worst part of the procedure is drinking the 8 glasses of watery mixture intended to clean out your colon at 6 PM the night before (it is truly disgusting), then drinking another 6 glasses at 3 AM just to make sure. For a while, you're afraid to go to sleep.  Let's be honest here - you're afraid to move.  I slept from 4:20 AM to 6 AM when I had to go to the hospital. I'm not entirely sure they needed to use anesthesia, but it probably cut down on the snoring.  

I am very glad to have this over. It has been a concern in the back of my mind for three weeks and it is a welcome relief to know that I have three years before I have to do this again. For the rest of you, when it comes to health, I am a poor role model. Take care of yourself. I want to make sure you are all  still around when I'm 120.