My previous post.

 

Yesterday proved not as bad as anticipated. The liquid was not tasty but not ghastly. Somebody suggested mixing it with 7-UP. I will do that next time.

Oddly, I was never hungry all day.

Oddly, I didn’t miss…oh, the horror…not drinking.

I began taking the liquid at noon and stopped at 2PM. I went through 2/3 of it.

I resumed the last third at 10PM and finished at 11PM. Sitting down…y’all know what I mean…went on longer.

The whole experience was made vastly easier due to my beloved, cherished bidet.

(Next time I won’t start the liquid till like 9PM.)

Went to bed at 1AM and managed to sleep till 3:35 when the alarm went off.

Drive to hospital: 2 hours. Everybody very nice. In such situations I always feel like I’m suddenly on stage during a ballet performance. Lots of people moving in and out around me, all obviously well-rehearsed and fully understanding their roles. I watched with mild awe. I particularly enjoyed the tutus worn by several nurses.

Then came the IV serum to knock me out. This always amazes me. I am fine. I am fine. I am…

The procedure was to take 30 minutes.

I woke 2 hours later to shouting. “Nanny get out! Nanny get out! Nanny get out!”

My eyes flew open. A nurse was adjacent, bent down slightly toward me. I asked: “Why are you shouting Nanny Get Out at me?”

She laughed. “Is that what you heard?”

That’s what you said!”

“I said: Ross, time to wake up.”

Oh. That made more sense.

I’ve been sedated before and normally feel fine after waking. Not this time. I was soooooo out of it. It took about an hour to feel kinda OK.

The doctor arrived. My heart slowed. For, would the answer to the issue in my colon at last be revealed????????

The news? “”We found a massive polyp adjacent to your ileocecal valve.”

“Massive? What does that mean?”

“2-inches wide. I think it’s the largest we’ve even seen. It took 2 hours to remove it. We had to take it apart in sections and remove each section. You have two more polyps and, while normal-sized, we no longer had time to remove them. So, we’ll do this again in six months. Oh, and the big polyp? It does not look cancerous but the lab will confirm that soon.

In short, I had something larger than a golf ball removed from my colon.

Later, I told my friend Suzi the story. “You men. As long as you hear “Wow! That’s the biggest I’ve ever seen”, you are happy.

“True!”

 

The procedure came close to being cancelled after I drove the 2-hours to the hospital. They asked who was picking me up. I replied: “Nobody. I have a friend, Kenny, who lives just a few blocks away and I’m gonna walk to his house and then sleep for a long while.”

This alarmed them, and they said I had only two options:

1. Find a ride, STAT.
2. Stay in the hospital for 24-hours.

While pondering these not-possible options, Kenny texted asking if I had arrived OK.

I replied back with the bad news.

He responded that he would come pick me up.

“But you have school!” (Kenny is a teacher.)

“I can call in sick.”

“No! I refuse to put you in a situation where you feel boxed in!”

“Look. You’re a friend. You’re in trouble. You need help. There’s NO WAY I’m not gonna help.”

My eyes welled with tears.

 

At 10:30AM I was wheeled out to the main entrance. There was Kenny. I staggered the few feet to his car like a drunk. Wow. Was I a mess. (It’s likely that this was caused by the length of time I was under.)

Arriving at Kenny’s house, STAT, he showed me the guest bedroom and I crawled into the highly comfortable antique bed, under a crystal chandelier. My gay heart was happy.

Ten minutes later I stepped in front of Kenny in the living room, with Jet happily snugged on his lap.

“I can’t sleep but I’m having fantasies about a huge breakfast.” I’d not eaten since Sunday.

We went to a Denny’s-like restaurant where I ordered, no joke, The Biggest Big Breakfast.

Of course.

Damn, was Ross happy. I picked up the check and gave the waiter a 30% tip.

 

SUMMATION: After avoiding doctors most of my life, drinking way too much, eating badly (until recently), being overweight, and being averse to exercise, it seems that, at 66, I’m in pretty good shape. I’m gobsmacked. We all know so many horror stories of loved ones who go through health hell. Thus, tonight, I’m kinda teary-eyed at my good news.

The kitties are happy, too.

And Kenny? Tomorrow I’m mailing him a check for his lost revenue. He better cash it.

 

THIS IDEA JUST POPPED INTO HY HEAD: If the generosity of Kenny touches you, and if you’d like to send him a gift (no matter the size), please use the green GoFundMe button below. Make sure to leave a note: FOR KENNY. I’ll send him the gifts. I suspect that he’ll be touched.

 

NOTE: The giant polyp may be the cause of my blood clots. Clots are caused by something wrong with the body.