Preparing for the Test. Again.

I told the doctor that I'd rather starve for 2 weeks than go through another Colonscopy Prep.

It has been over 10 years and I still bear the emotional scars.

The doctor assured me that the process has improved.   

He lied.  

9:30 PM
I drank the 1st  of 2 glasses of the nasty-ass colon cleanser.  And I proceeded directly to the toilet.

Nothing happened.

Instructions said to drink 5 glasses of water between the 1st and 2nd courses.  At my own pace.  I drank a glass of water and returned to the toilet.

Nothing happened.

So I changed into my brand new adorable flannel PJs.  With the cute doggies.  It was going to be a long night.  Might as well be comfortable.

I drank another glass of water and returned to the toilet.

Nothing happened.

I decided to lie down on the bed, which is approximately 6 steps from the bathroom.  Kevin, my dog snuggled up next to me.

Then all hell broke loose.  At the risk of throwing Kevin under the bus, IT WAS ALL HIS FAULT!  

He slowed me down.

I struggled, unsuccessfully, to pull down my adorable PJs.  The blast from my backside was meteoric.  Burst of colon contents blew from my nether-regions.

The prep was working.

So much for my adorable PJs.

Over the next 8 hours I established an intimate relationship with my colon.

COLON: You may as well get comfortable in here.  Grab a book.
ME: Do I have time to grab one from the family room?
COLON: No promises.
ME: There's a Soduku book next to my bed.
COLON: Hurry.  But don't walk too fast.

I completed 13 Soduku puzzles.

11:15 PM
COLON: You can get up now.  I'm done.
ME: You sure?
COLON: Yeah.  Go lie down on the bed.  It's just 6 steps from the toilet.  I'm fine.
ME: If you're sure.
COLON: I'm sure.

I laid down on the bed.

COLON: GET UP NOW!!!!!!!!
ME: OH MY GOD!!  #@#$% Move, Kevin!

Too late.  There went another pair of PJs.

1:30 AM
I took another dose of the poo prompter potion, followed by a glass of water.  I returned to my throne where I completed 7 more Sodukus.

3:05 AM
KEVIN: Woof. (Translation: Take me outside.)
ME: I can't take you outside, Kevin.
COLON: You can take Kevin out.  I'm done.
ME: That's what you told me last time.
KEVIN: Woof.
COLON: You didn't take Kevin for a walk last night.  I think he needs to poop.
ME: How ironic.
KEVIN: Woof!
COLON: I'm done.  Take him out.
ME: You'd better be done!

I took baby steps down the driveway.  Since it's impossible to walk normally while squeezing your cheeks.  

Kevin pulled at the leash.  

Like I wasn't walking fast enough for him.

ME: Hurry up, Kevin!
COLON: GET YOUR ASS BACK TO THE TOILET.  NOW!!!
ME: Oh, no!  Not again!  DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY!

Too late.  There went yet another pair of PJs.

I was like a damn infant.

5:00 AM
COLON: Great job, Lou.  It's clean as a whistle in here.  What time is the company coming?
LOU: 1:30.

I don't remember much about my 1:30 Colonoscopy.  I slept right through it.  I do know that I had the most delicious turkey sub on the way home.

2:17 PM
COLON: For crying out loud, Lou!  This place is a complete mess again.  Thanks a lot.
LOU: Don't worry about it.  We'll clean it up again in about 10 years.