For some time I have had a condition I have termed 'awmiguts', meaning lower abdominal pain in ancient hebrew spelling mistakes. An abdominal x-ray revealed that I will not be wearing that x-ray nightie out on the town. Honestly, the material was so giant that if there was a slight breeze I would've sailed off into the beyond. I'm not sure where the beyond is, but I think it's just past yonder.
So now I am about to embark upon a colonial era, emphasis on the colon. In preparation for a colonoscopy 2 days are spent eating processed foods lacking fibre. Let's just say I've been cutting sick on the ham sandwiches, dudes. Let's also say, they aren't going anywhere till day 3, the day before the colonial inquest. How does Inspector Rex do it? Perhaps I should not take diet tips from a German Shepherd. I've also rediscovered boiled eggs and soldiers. Who ever decided to call slithers of egg dipped toast, soldiers? I'm just saying that I wouldn't like my chances leading an army of frail eggy bread into battle, even if my face was painted half blue and white. Although, I fail to consider my enemy. If it were mayonnaise covered croutons I might have a chance.
By day 3 of colon prep my stomach was the battlefield. Ham sandwiches, eggs and soldiers all stabbing and shooting their way through leading up to the final atomic explosion. In the meantime I made some extra money hiring my gut out as a cement mixer. Day 3 only consisted of breakfast, low fibre breakfast. This was followed by a day of "clear" fluids, so without reading ahead I downed some vodka shots, several martinis and some metho on the rocks. Of course I didn't, that would've been adding fuel to the belly fire. One of the things on my list of "clear" fluids was a stock cube in boiling water. Can't say I've ever craved that recipe, but I'll keep it in mind next time I open an orphanage in pre-Industrial Revolution London. I chose to indulge in the lemonade ice block, which reminded me of when I was 5, and I'm sure I slurped it in a similar way. I think the ice block is one of those foods you're just never going to look cool eating, unless you're a cartoon dog, of course. It's just hard work, tracking melting edges, saving lone drips with your tongue, then navigating the small icebergs around the stick. Not to mention potential "cold" headaches from prolonged teeth - ice contact. It's more like an imitation of a ventriloquist with lock jaw.
So by 5pm I had to start the colon clearing solution, but I like to call it 'Commence ham sandwich exodus at 17.00 hours'. (Insert loud 90s computer typing noise, like from JAG) Really, who watches JAG? Maybe I mean the show, '24'. Aargh, I don't know, one where they do military/spy typing noises. The 'dun dun' from 'Law and Order' will do though.
A number of hours later my body had a clearance sale. Everything must go!! The gastroenterologist said it would be like turning a tap on, but I didn't realise taps were in agony every time I turned them on. Although my colon was surely sparkling by now, I was incredibly faint. I was out of artillery.
The Colonoscopy 10.00 hours (dun dun)
Part of the admission process includes being asked if you have dentures 5 times. It's like the nurses want me to have dentures. I have wind-up teeth, will that shut them up. I'm also apparently underweight but I don't know who decides these things. You would be underweight too, if your insides were now on your outside. Instant stick figure. So Karen takes me to get changed into another tent nightie that Fraulein Maria made from the curtains, and even better, undies made of a material you wouldn't even pack your fish'n'chips in. Thanks, Karen, I'll be out on the catwalk shortly. At least I had a cool wristband, I wonder what festivals that will get me into. Eventually they wheel my bed into the surgery room. I could've walked, guys. Legs are fine. It was a rush though, like being on an episode of 'Scrubs', but with no hot people.
The anesthetist was unable to find a vein due to my stick figure diet the day before. Hello, I'm a pin cushion. Just ram in in there, toots. Maybe their fluorescent blue lights were on that day. Awkward! Before I knew it tubes filled my nose and banana flavoured anesthetic filled my mouth. Forgot I was having an endoscopy too. In no time I was having cigars with lemurs in Madagascar. They were fun. I woke up in another room next to another non-cast member from 'Scrubs'. Awmiguts! What did they do to me? Who cares, tea and sandwiches afterwards, I'm anyone's really.
I should get the results next week to see which uni I can get into. YES!
By day 3 of colon prep my stomach was the battlefield. Ham sandwiches, eggs and soldiers all stabbing and shooting their way through leading up to the final atomic explosion. In the meantime I made some extra money hiring my gut out as a cement mixer. Day 3 only consisted of breakfast, low fibre breakfast. This was followed by a day of "clear" fluids, so without reading ahead I downed some vodka shots, several martinis and some metho on the rocks. Of course I didn't, that would've been adding fuel to the belly fire. One of the things on my list of "clear" fluids was a stock cube in boiling water. Can't say I've ever craved that recipe, but I'll keep it in mind next time I open an orphanage in pre-Industrial Revolution London. I chose to indulge in the lemonade ice block, which reminded me of when I was 5, and I'm sure I slurped it in a similar way. I think the ice block is one of those foods you're just never going to look cool eating, unless you're a cartoon dog, of course. It's just hard work, tracking melting edges, saving lone drips with your tongue, then navigating the small icebergs around the stick. Not to mention potential "cold" headaches from prolonged teeth - ice contact. It's more like an imitation of a ventriloquist with lock jaw.
So by 5pm I had to start the colon clearing solution, but I like to call it 'Commence ham sandwich exodus at 17.00 hours'. (Insert loud 90s computer typing noise, like from JAG) Really, who watches JAG? Maybe I mean the show, '24'. Aargh, I don't know, one where they do military/spy typing noises. The 'dun dun' from 'Law and Order' will do though.
A number of hours later my body had a clearance sale. Everything must go!! The gastroenterologist said it would be like turning a tap on, but I didn't realise taps were in agony every time I turned them on. Although my colon was surely sparkling by now, I was incredibly faint. I was out of artillery.
The Colonoscopy 10.00 hours (dun dun)
Part of the admission process includes being asked if you have dentures 5 times. It's like the nurses want me to have dentures. I have wind-up teeth, will that shut them up. I'm also apparently underweight but I don't know who decides these things. You would be underweight too, if your insides were now on your outside. Instant stick figure. So Karen takes me to get changed into another tent nightie that Fraulein Maria made from the curtains, and even better, undies made of a material you wouldn't even pack your fish'n'chips in. Thanks, Karen, I'll be out on the catwalk shortly. At least I had a cool wristband, I wonder what festivals that will get me into. Eventually they wheel my bed into the surgery room. I could've walked, guys. Legs are fine. It was a rush though, like being on an episode of 'Scrubs', but with no hot people.
The anesthetist was unable to find a vein due to my stick figure diet the day before. Hello, I'm a pin cushion. Just ram in in there, toots. Maybe their fluorescent blue lights were on that day. Awkward! Before I knew it tubes filled my nose and banana flavoured anesthetic filled my mouth. Forgot I was having an endoscopy too. In no time I was having cigars with lemurs in Madagascar. They were fun. I woke up in another room next to another non-cast member from 'Scrubs'. Awmiguts! What did they do to me? Who cares, tea and sandwiches afterwards, I'm anyone's really.
I should get the results next week to see which uni I can get into. YES!
