Category Archives: toilet

Let The Games Begin!

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Let The Games Begin!

Let the games begin! I give a chin up nod and raise a plastic glass to my reflection in the bathroom mirror before starting the colon prep that will literally own my ass for the next 18 hours. This may be the most 2020 thing I do all year and doesn’t it feel appropriate.

I was supposed to do this after I turned 50 a couple of years ago. I wasn’t in a rush, further delayed by my father’s death. He had an emergency colonoscopy, got perforated and subsequently died after a couple of weeks in the hospital. You can understand my hesitation. 

At this year’s physical I was reminded again that I was overdue so I decided to put my big girl panties on (or is it Depends?) and request the appointment. For this GI practice you mail in the paperwork and they call you with dates a few weeks after your information is received. They offered me a date in September so I took it. Turns out my colonoscopy happens to be on the anniversary of my father’s death. I’m trying not to think of that, 2020 is one spooky bitch.

The prep started 5 days ago with a low fiber/low roughage diet. For the past 7 months I’ve been focused on eating better – whole grains, fruits, vegetables – all that is out the window as I welcome back a bland low fiber diet of white bread and pasta with no raw fruits or veggies. I thought I would enjoy the diet relapse more but not so much. 

One thing I was looking forward to was a guilt free night of no cooking and sequestering myself in my bedroom after 4:30pm, some well earned “me time”. I had a busy day shopping for clients in the morning and taking my mother to a medical appointment in the afternoon. 

Outings with my mother always lack efficiency. You plan to do one thing but 6 more things get added to the list with some unexpected twists along the way. Sometimes it’s my mother’s doing and sometimes it’s the Universe just f*cking with me. It reminds me of the children’s book – If You Give a Pig a Pancake by Laura Numeroff, here’s an excerpt –

If you give a pig a pancake, she’ll want some syrup to go with it. You’ll give her some of your favourite maple syrup, and she’ll probably get all sticky, so she’ll want to take a bath. She’ll ask you for some bubbles. When you give her the bubbles..

Here’s the version for my mom, who goes by Nannie:

If you take Nannie to the bank she will also want to go to the food store. While in the food store she will curse loudly because they don’t have the right Swifter pads. Then she will leave her cane in the shopping cart while complaining that the stores near her house aren’t big enough. When you leave the store she will want to get something to eat, after she eats you will take her to the doctor. While walking to the doctor from the car she will realize she left her mask at Starbucks and you will have to beg the receptionist for a mask…on the way home from the doctor you will get detoured for twenty minutes due to an accident…

Seriously, all that sh*t happened. Back to my prep – as I mentioned I was looking forward to a little me time. Clearly nothing exotic just not cooking or cleaning up after people for an evening would be a treat. At 4:30pm I announced that I was going upstairs. The hubs looked at me and said something about dinner…I may have blinked really slow. I reminded him that I was taking the night off for medicinal purposes and I wished him well. Of course this would be the week that he has a huge project on his plate but really figure it out people. I texted him an hour later to remind him to make sure our daughter eats.

I could hear the discussion taking place regarding dinner – the guys were set with chicken parm subs, the girl was requesting Mexican take out. I got a text from my daughter requesting help, I told her to come upstairs. She had to place the order by phone and apparently that is more scary than hairy spiders for her. I talked her through it while she stood in the doorway of my bathroom and I sat on the toilet.

Daughter: Mom what’s the name of that Mexican place I like?

Me: Aztlan (pronounced Azz Land because WTF not)

Daughter: What’s the name of those nachos I like?

Me: Aztlan Nachos

15 minutes later I get a call from my son who was sent out to pick up the nachos.

Son: Mom what’s the name of the place with the nachos?

Me: Aztlan

Son: What’s the address? Is it on the same street with the tailor and the church…

Me: I don’t know honey can you Google it, I gotta go (still on the toilet).

The day before the colonoscopy is a liquid diet. I had jello, chicken broth, tea, water, more water and for a change, water. The prep includes a concoction which tastes like rancid cough syrup mixed with dish soap. You dilute that with water and when you finish that you drink more water and then you explode, maybe

Before I finished drinking the first round of 48 ounces (second round is the morning of the procedure) I got a headache and the chills, apparently this happens. It passed after about an hour. While I was Googling side effects, I read that orange jello is a no-no which is most unfortunate because I ate several bowls of the stuff. I wish I was joking. The instructions from the GI office state you should not consume red or purple jello or beverages. Nothing about orange so I’m hoping this doesn’t derail me. 

Speaking of “go”, the prep is effective. All the things you hear about the prep are true – vile, disgusting, rancid, rank, gross, gnarly (this is taking on an 80s Valley Girl theme, like Oh My God) Satan’s cocktail, poo primer, make up your own name it’s fun (sad, sad, fun). Anyway I was able to drink it and not vomit so yay me! The fireworks started within an hour…more like water works. I don’t speak for everyone but somehow my ass turned into a faucet. Even more odd was the faint chicken smell, guess it was the broth I had. Pretty much an all liquid event with varying shades of yellow, gray and eventually clear. This apparently is the goal.

The next morning I stepped on the scale because who doesn’t want to weigh themselves after 14 hours off liquid evacuation. I lost 1.8 pounds. I realize some people sneeze that in a day but for me this is big news. It takes me weeks of clean eating and consistent exercise to lose that. And yes, I suspect it will be back up tomorrow, shhhh, let me have this moment.

A few hours later….

The hubs dropped me off at the appointment and I gave him instructions to come back in two hours. I was fairly certain he’d be back. There’s only so much take out they can eat and those people (my family) won’t even wash fruit FFS. 

I registered and was directed to my waiting stall. I was instructed to keep on a bra and socks. I told the nurse I hope a camisole is acceptable because I haven’t worn a real bra since March (and I’m never going back to that titty prison). While in queue for a procedure room I had to use the bathroom TWICE. It was a bit of a spectacle, I had to navigate an IV pole while holding my gown closed, tricky business. 

It was finally my time and I was wheeled into the room.I just got oxygen clips in my nose when, uh-oh, I had to go again. I said Jack (nurse) I need to get untethered so I don’t sh*t the bed, he was quick about it. Took care of business, met my doc and went night-night. 

I woke up to hearing I didn’t have any polyps which was good news. My doctor spoke to me about how fabulous my colon was and how I did a great job with prep (no mention of orange jello, phew). Unless things change, I don’t have to do this for 10 years.

So here are the takeaways:

I think the low fiber/low roughage diet for 5 days prior helped with the prep. I had minimal cramping and bloating was eased as soon things got moving. 

The nausea passed soon after I finished the solution. During the second round I would take a long swig of solution and then have a small sip of water to ease the after taste. 

I had a headache and chills each time I drank the solution, that’s just how it is for some people. I was allowed to take Tylenol which helped. 

I got cottonelle wet wipes to help with the burning sensation (did I mention the ring of fire? Just imagine you have 1,000 papercuts THERE, yup that’s what it feels like)

Go light on the food after your colonoscopy. I got a little too enthusiastic at dinner and I think it was too much after the day’s events.

Colonoscopies are recommended starting at age 45 for African Americans, 50 for most and younger for those that have a close family member that had colon cancer.

Cruisin’ Like Cattle

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Cruisin’ Like Cattle

Hello friends seems like ages since we’ve chatted. The blame is solidly on me I just got back from a cruise. My teen daughter and I went on an 11-day Baltic Sea cruise (insert gasps, I know it was amazing) to see incredible ports. The real thing that appealed to me about the trip was seeing my niece and her boyfriend (the one I hope she marries) perform on the ship. My niece is a vocalist and her BF is a dancer…so yes, they are in their twenties traveling the world on a luxury ship, no rent, fed well and getting paid. I won’t get into the dicier bits like the sadistic entertainer that terrorized the other cast members the first three months, the six figure student debt or the fact that they will be homeless when they disembark (move in with me kids).

There are two types of people that cruise, the cruise addicts and the rest of us. I’m not sure how the cruise addicts afford their habit. I met one gentleman who had been on a cruise for over 100 days this year. He was in the front row of every performance so we talked a bit. His brother joined him on this cruise and they were theater enthusiasts. During Born to Dance, he applauded loudly and shouted WOW! after each number.

Most of the cruise addicts (CA) are brand loyal. That makes sense you get perks for being a repeat customer. We were on a Princess cruise and there are different levels of loyalty programs. You get cabin upgrades, better dinning and laundry services as you make your way up the ranks. I don’t anticipate ever falling into this category of cruiser because my husband isn’t onboard (ba dum tss) with the idea. We prefer a more in-depth local experience when traveling.

It was one of those mega ships, with passengers and crew, it has the capacity for 4,906 souls. Yup, that’s a lot of people waiting for bacon at the breakfast buffet. Surprisingly enough it didn’t seem that crowded most days. It wasn’t warm enough for the pool for a  majority of the trip so there were no lounge hogs. Disembarking was the clearest indicator of how many people were there and that was handled efficiently….it all went off the rails at the airport.

My group, Green 7, as we were affectionately known boarded the bus without incident, like cattle unknowingly headed to slaughter. I did notice one woman, known as Texas, act a bit aggressive in the bus line, I tried to ignore her. When the bus arrived at the airport we had to fetch our luggage from a tent and walk across the street to the terminal (note to self, take a taxi next time and avoid this ridiculousness). There were hundreds of us going through this same process. Still organized chaos at this point.

When we got in to the terminal I did the kiosk check in, that was fine. Then I went to find out where to drop off our luggage and things took a turn. After checking the board and asking two different airport reps, I was told a luggage lane wouldn’t be open until 3 hours before the flight. We got there 3 1/2 hours prior to flight so I needed to keep checking the board. Once that opened everyone made a mad dash to the luggage counter and suddenly the bacon line was a distant fond memory.

I think 90% of the people were from the cruise ship. Some were still wearing their cruise medallions on a lanyard or carrying bags with the Princess logo. I recognized purple shirt (she talked about jewelry and $80 lipstick the entire bus ride), Texas was there and a large group of people from San Diego and Hawaii. The flight was to JFK in New York and it was a mixed bag of final destination and connecting flights.

One very aggressive group was from NYC when I told one lady from that group that I was from Jersey she gave a nod like she knew I could drive crazy and get loud. They totally took advantage of the mild mannered large group from the west. At one point two lines merged into the one entrance and people had to take turns. Texas had a few words with me as we approached the entrance from different directions. She acted like we were at a deli counter and her number was ahead of mine, bisch please. She was twenty years older than me so I let her go.  I kept reminding myself that I didn’t know which one of these assholes I would get seated next to on the plane so that kept me in check.

Finally we ditch the luggage and then it’s off to security. At this point we’ve been at the airport for two hours and it’s hot as hell. Copenhagen isn’t real keen on air conditioning. We get to security and my bag gets pulled for my daughter’s aerosol deodorant. After that we start looking for a book at the airport shops. She found out that she needs to read two books before school starts on September 3. We were hoping to find, The Book Thief, at the airport and no we don’t Kindle. Sadly they sell about a dozen books in English and that wasn’t one. Next stop, bad Denmark version of an airport hot dog, then, passport control.

I finally had a chance to use a restroom so one more stop. Things were fine until this –

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I can tell you this much, the toilet paper does NOT dispense from the bottom. That part is locked tighter than Fort Knox. I broke two nails and invented three new curse words trying to pry the bottom open. Nay, nay my friends the paper is supposed to poke out of the center except it didn’t. 

We finally get to our gate and who do I see – Texas, purple shirt, NYC gang and the nice group from the west. My goal was to be the very last person to board, I scoffed at the line and played online Solitaire from a distance. I was very fortunate and got seated next to a sweet couple from Hawaii. We were previously in the luggage line together and we remained civilized despite the chaos around us.

When we got to JFK we realized that the travel nightmare wasn’t quite over…it took 90 minutes to clear Customs. These lines resembled something you would see at an amusement park, turn left, then right and repeat that pattern 78 times. Instead of a fun roller coaster at the end, you get a kiosk which requires your passport and takes the world’s worst photo after 15 travel hours (4 of those hours spent in lines).

I’ll write about the fun stuff in future posts, stay tuned.