my husband rocks!
This is the first of my Friday posts about Mr. Vintage, the man who has kept me warm, kept me laughing, kept me happy, and kept me fed for the past 27 years.
I haven't actually asked him how he feels about being called Mr. Vintage, but I have a feeling he might think the word "vintage," when applied to people, isn't a 100% positive thing. For that reason, at least on Fridays, we'll call him Ray.
This Friday -- today -- Ray is taking the day off, so we can spend the whole day together. Whatta guy, huh? While some of you early-bird-worm-catching types are reading this in your jammies on Friday morning, Ray will be doing the Supportive-Husband-Boogie at the gastroenterologist's office. And while Ray boogies, I'll be singing the Strangers-Are-Probing-My-Bare-Butt Blues.
We met the doctor last week, when he explained the ins and outs [pun intended] of a routine colonoscopy. I didn't have many questions at the time, but I've been compiling a list over the past few days, and am looking forward to getting some much-needed answers. To wit:
How come I'm required to have a responsible adult stay with me for the next 24 hours, and where will I find one? Why am I not allowed to operate machinery until Saturday morning? Would I really pose a danger to myself and others by playing solitaire on my cell phone, answering email on my laptop, or listening to Bob Seger on my ipod? How will I change the television channel or start a DVD? What about mechanical pencils ... is it safe to do Sudoku? And how come, if machinery is off-limits, President Bush went on a bike ride a few short hours after his last colonoscopy? Are Republican butts built tougher, like Ram Trucks?
Questions like these are why patients are sedated for this test.
I've been having other thoughts as well, including getting an EXIT ONLY sign tattooed on my butt, but I don't think it would help.
In a dream last night, I imagined looking over my shoulder at the doctor and saying: "This isn't at all like Raquel Welch in "Fantastic Voyage."
Or is it? I found this quote in an old review of the film: The acting is often unconvincing, and Raquel Welch is especially stiff.
Stiff? That ain't gonna work ... this role calls for flexibility and small, highly-skilled, hands. Will somebody please send Raquel back home?
I'm writing this post early (it's 4 p.m. Thursday), because I won't be home to write it on Friday morning. Today is my "prep" day, when I get to swallow all kinds of pills and potions while enjoying a delightful diet of clear liquids. I've even had 2 bowls of orange jello, to pretend I was actually chewing. By the time Ray gets home from work Thusday evening, my insides should be clean as a whistle.
I've consumed an 18 day supply of laxatives in less than 12 hours, but I guess that's not quite enough. The gastro doc -- no doubt tired of the "it's a poopy job, but someone has to do it" jokes -- is taking no chances. He says I have to wake up at 4 a.m. for not one, but two, Fleet enemas. I've thought long and hard about this, and I have concluded that only a contortionist could self-administer that medication. Enemas are not a one-person act.
And THAT, dear friends, is why Ray's getting Double Bubble Bonus Points today: for getting up in the middle of the night to express his everlasting devotion in new and mysterious ways. Heck, he even volunteered, and he has repeatedly assured me he's happy to share in this new experience, one he knows will bring us closer together than ever before. That's true love, at its finest.
I'll say it again ... My Husband Rocks! Thank God I married Ray The Pharmacist and not Joe The Plumber.
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UPDATE, filed under "you've got to be kidding" .... "God really does have a sense of humor" ... and "it could only happen to me."
I shouldn't have made that quip about Joe the Plumber ... Less than an hour after I finished typing the top parts of this post, my 19 year old son wandered by, asking his older brother if he took a shower this morning. Older brother said no, younger brother said he was wondering why there was no hot water at 6 a.m. on a Thursday morning, both boys walked out to the garage, and came right back in to tell me the water heater is broken. Aaack! Please don't tell me I have to take a COLD shower before leaving for the doctor's on Friday morning.
Update, part 2 ... Ray got home from work and all 3 guys decided the water heater's history. It's too late to buy a new one tonight, so Ray and the boys will do it on Friday, after my test. Lowe's wants over $350 to install a new one, plus an extra $75 for priority installation. No way. We'll install it ourselves.
As for taking a cold shower ... thank goodness it's still warm in Bakersfield.
my husband rocks! is hosted every Friday by KatyLin at
The Great Adventure
