TMI with a spoonful of sugar

You may remember me mentioning that I’m turning 50 this year. With great age, comes great responsibility. While I’m not quite old enough for AARP, at this advanced phase of my life I am expected to submit participate in a list of various and sundry screenings and tests that in medieval times would be considered torture.

One such test will be conducted on Wednesday, and with the entirety of Tuesday set aside to prep for this test (I was actually told it would be better for me to stay close to home all day), I thought I’d bore you with the TMI details early. I’ll no doubt be sitting a lot on Tuesday, but I won’t want to carry my laptop with me into the reading room.

For this particular test, I’ve already had a baseline, so I know what to expect. Tuesday morning and evening I have to ingest a sodium/potassium/magnesium sulfate solution, along with as much clear liquids as I can tolerate, minimally a half-gallon of water each time. I can have broth, non-pulpy juice, peach or lemon jello, and Gatorade – as long as it’s not red, orange or purple. I’m also allowed coffee or tea, so I can at least have my daily dose of caffeine. Dairy and solid food is verboten.

The goal is to not retain any of the fluids, hence the recommendation to remain at home.

Wednesday I am undergoing my second colonoscopy, having had my first at age 45. The early baseline was done because I have a family history of colon cancer. Because I also have a family history of stomach cancer, and have been a smidge acid-refluxy lately, I’m getting a two-fer and doubling up with an endoscopy.

Due to the family history and my own medical issues, every burp and fluff since making the appointment has been suspect, and very good reasons why should have stayed away from the quackery of Dr. Google and WebMD. The worry gene I inherited from my grandmother and mother is working overtime.

I’m expected to arrive at the hospital for the outpatient procedure before the sun rises, hopefully flushed out and ready. An anesthesiologist will put me into twilight sleep (sans glittering vampires and hunky werewolves) and the doctor will snake my entire intestines for polyps and other tell-tale signs of the c-word, then change out gadgetry and do the same thing to my upper gastrointestinal tract. I should be clean as a whistle when all’s finished.

Since I’ll be groggy from the anesthesia, the Mister is driving me to and fro. The Boy, no doubt, won’t be awake until I’ve already been home a few hours. I plan to go to bed and sleep most of the remainder of the day. If I get bored I may try to surf the ‘net while under the influence, that has the potential to be either amusing or embarrassing… or both.