This year, I will hit the big 5-0. It’s not until August, but my primary care doc wants me to get prepared for it and sent me to a GI doc to begin the process of prepping for a colonoscopy.
Now all those people who say I’m full of shit will have their proof. Or not.
The process includes some initial blood tests to get a baseline of my numbers and then scheduling an anesthesia-filled day at the clinic with a scope up my butt. I have to go through a cleansing ritual prior to the procedure. I quickly skimmed the informational brochure I was handed, with my eyes zeroing in on the words enema, Dulcolax, and Miralax.
It was all starting to make me feel so:
Don’t we all look forward to celebrating big milestone birthdays in our life this way? Or maybe we should fete important milestones the ways celebrities do. Right Kanye?
Hard to believe a celebrity twitter beef was happening (yeah, right) about assholes (because there are so few celebrity assholes, right?) on the day a doctor was talking to me about mine. Again:
But the biggest pain in my ass on the day that I was preparing to hear about an even bigger — and literal — pain in my ass? Actually getting to the GI doctors office.
You see, Storm Jonas had hit our area the week before and dumped 35″ on us. My husband, 2 boys, and I had spent 3 days after the storm digging out our driveway and sidewalk, bemoaning the fact we didn’t own a snow blower. And also bemoaning the fact that every neighbor we have does own a snow blower.
We had cleared all the snow and ice. But on the way out my door to the doctor’s office that morning, there was a surprise snow/sleet squall. My trek took me across what should have been the clear driveway, but turned out to be our slippery driveway. And I proceeded to:
- lose my footing on the fucking sleet that now covered my once clear driveway,
- start to fall down,
- knock the underside of my chin on the bumper of my car as I went down,
- hit my knee hard as I landed, cutting it in two places,
- land on my right hip/lower back — the same side I had back surgery on in 2007, and
- bump my right elbow as I landed
I laid there, having rolled into a pile of snow in front of the car, thinking:
I arrived at the doctor’s office and the wonderful nurse who did the initial workup was kind enough to clean and bandage my wounds. I was mortified that I hadn’t shaved my legs more recently, but who the hell expects to have your knee/leg looked at when you visit the GI doc? Certainly not this
After the appointment, I went home and started a regime of popping ibuprofen like they were Tic Tacs, and sat on a heating pad all afternoon and evening for my aching lower back. I sat on that damn pad so long you would think I was expecting to hatch something.
However, the only thing I appeared to hatch was a realization that getting older — and being a klutz — is a literal and figurative pain in the ass.