Try more like seventy!
(They’re just jealous that the guy in the middle still has hair!)
If these old geezers are fifty, then I’m seventeen.
Actually, that may be the definition of fifty: adolescent enthusiasm in a middle-aged body.
My great-grandmother once said, “I don’t know where this body came from, in my mind I’m still a teenager!”
Your mileage may vary.
Ah, here at Starbucks the Bangles are walking like Egyptians!
Julie from Life in the NHS asked if I lived at Starbucks.
In my dreams!
Actually, I’m still acting as chauffeur for my youngest daughter, so whenever I have to drop her off, I hit the closest Starbucks until it’s time to pick her up.
There are three different Starbucks in the area that know my “drink” by heart. If they start start playing McCartney the minute I walk in, I know I’m a fixture!
Today’s drink is a Grande Non-Fat Caramel Macchiato….with whip, of course.
(Oooooo! It’s “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds! I ADORE that song!)
The dreaded colonoscopy. A rite of passage for those of us who have reached the mid-century mark.
If you know what that is, you are showing your age. If you do not, you have
nothing something to look forward to.
Looking forward to it is all you are gonna get, because you won’t remember a thing after it’s over!
I have yet to experience this unique screening procedure, but my husband is now an official member of the “I Survived My Colonoscopy” club.
He did not get a T-shirt.
I must give out discharge instructions for conscious sedation twice a day.
No driving for 24 hours. Light on the diet to start. Have someone with you for 24 hours. No major life decisions for 24 hours. Don’t sign any contracts for 24 hours. No alcohol for 24 hours.
In other words, put your life on hold for a full day.
And be sure to discuss these with the patient and their driver/babysitter before the procedure.
Blah, blah. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
I can do it in my sleep.
Now I know why we give those instructions.
After waiting dutifully for hubby in the waiting room while the gastroenterologist surveyed the scenery, I found him resting in a gurney, drinking juice and alert. Very mellow, but alert. Clear speech.
He remembered nothing about the procedure!
Then the very nice gastro doc came in and discussed the findings. He told us how long it would take to get the full report, where he would send it, what to watch for. We discussed Hubby’s health history and made arrangements to follow up. Hubby asked a lot of pertinent questions.
Later that night, Hubby was miffed that the doctor had given us zero information on what happened.
He didn’t remember a single bit of the post-procedure conversation.
When the instructions for the colonoscopy prep said “clear liquids only” for the twenty-four hours preceeding the event, Hubby took it to mean, “oh hell, why bother to drink anything but water” meaning he essentially fasted the entire time.
I told him that he should have taken fluids with calories for nourishment at least.
As a result, he had the lowest blood sugar he’s had since his diabetes was diagnosed (86) and he was famished after it was all over.
Wanted a cheeseburger, he did! And not just any cheeseburger, but a big, greasy 1950s style burger from the local retro joint.
I couldn’t talk him out of it. I wanted to first stop at the local coffee drive-through across from the restaurant. While I’m ordering my drink, my husband gets out of the car and walks across three lanes of busy traffic to go pick up the burger!
He chides me for my concern that he is up and wandering through traffic less than an hour after being sedated. “I’m fine!” he says.
Eight hours later he doesn’t remember the meal.
After napping for five hours (having been up all night secondary to the “prep”), Hubby decides to go visit the neighbor.
He comes back and raves about the wine our neighbor had poured.
“Hubby!” I reprimanded. “You aren’t supposed to have alcohol for a full day!”
I can’t let this guy out of my sight for a second!
He had no recollection of any alcohol instructions.
So this is why you make sure a patient has someone with them after conscious sedation and for a full day!
Trust me, once that medication is given, I don’t care how alert, how appropriate or how steady the patient feels, they are not going to remember anything, including what they do for hours after the procedure!
Nothing like being on the other side of the coin to have something drummed into your head.
I’m just ticked at myself for not taking advantage of the situation and running Hubby to the local Apple Store to buy an iPhone and a 17-inch MacBookPro.
But honey, you said I could!
Whaddaya mean, you don’t remember!