There are times when I’ve probably been considered to be over-sharing information. Just so you’re warned; this is likely one of them.
As noted previously, I left work early enough to go home and go through the preparation process in the splendour that is home rather than at the office. I had been considering attending soccer training prior to the actual experience though I was a little concerned that my energy levels would be low having not eaten for most of the day.
The time came around for the first part of a 3 step process of ingesting ‘cleansing agents’ for want of a better word and I mixed up this substance that looked kind of like milky water. After staring suspiciously at it for a while, I faced my demons and skulled it. I couldn’t face the thought of starting slowly only to find out that I couldn’t stand it and yet be faced with the ingesting the remainder.
It was probably a wise choice. Although not overly offensive in terms of taste, it didn’t sit particularly well and did rebel enough to put the thought of puking in my mind. I managed not to though and went back to sitting around to wait for it to take effect.
Well before we reached that point though I had to go through preparation ‘b’; another concoction that this time had to be drunk over the course of an hour … a whole litre of it.
It had a kind of lemon flavour to it was a little more viscous than water and quite simply, didn’t hold any sort of appeal at all. A bit later again and I had to do a second dose of preparation ‘a’. Second time around I knew what to expect. The fear of the unknown had been resolved only to be replaced by the fear of the memory that was still so recent in my mind. I survived.
Then it was back to the waiting. It’s not a fun waiting time because you know what is supposed to happen. You’re just not quite sure how long it will take or just exactly how it’s going to be.
We’ll chalk it up as ‘not fun’. You know those horror days in your life when you manage to contract diarrhoea and can poop through the eye of a needle? When you have no choice but to shit even though its really only going to produce a warm stream of unpleasantness from the anus? Yeah, well now you’re getting the picture. Now you know how I spent the rest of the night. Afraid to fart because quite simply, nothing good was going to come of the experience, not wanting to crap but having too, knowing exactly what’s coming out and knowing that as much as you might like to hope so, it’s not the last time.
Caroline and the kids ate dinner, I hid in another room, biding my time between visits to the dunny and wishing that it was all happening to someone else. At least I was eventually allowed to sleep.
I’d hoped that by morning I’d have been done with it all because I’d cleansed the system enough the night before. Such wishful thinking! Of course I wasn’t done. I was mostly done, but like Miracle Max said, mostly dead isn’t all dead. Neither is mostly done all done.
Eventually it was time to go in for the actual inspection.
Having undressed the lower portions of my body and donned that stunning piece of attire that is the hospital gown, I was wheeled into the room where all the action was to take place. The anaesthetist stuck a needle in my vein, pumped something into it and waited a while to ask me if I was feeling sleepy (I was supposed to be sedated, not complete zonked). I hadn’t noticed a thing and told him as much. This resulted in something else being stuck in my vein and beyond that I really don’t recall a thing until I woke in the recovery room. I’m quite happy about that, as should you be. It means no graphic description of the actual inspection itself.
After a while, when I felt less woozy I got to see the specialist who advised that they’d only found a single polyp that had been removed and that would be sent to the lab for analysis. Only one is possibly good, none would have been better. And couldn’t he have asked if I wanted to see it rather than just waving the little sample jar in front of me?
Then came the rest of the day which involved eating again at last as well as waiting for that joyful moment when would be able to once again let rip with a joyful toot without fear of soiling myself! What a wonderful moment it was.
Now it’s the wait for the results.
May 28, 2011
May 27, 2011
Open for Inspection
I went to the doctor recently just because I needed to be told that I’m fat again to have a check up and although there was nothing really wrong with me (I won’t bore you with the intimate details) due to family history, we decided that it was probably time that certain things were checked.
Now when I say certain things, let’s be specific. We’re talking about the last bits of the digestive system. Yes, its time for a colonoscopy. Can we say excited? Today is preparation day which means that since 10am I have been unable to eat (good for the diet, not for the soul?) and later today I get to drink some fluids that will apparently assist with the cleansing of the bits to be inspected. Given that this commences during work hours, I made the decision to leave the kit at home and meet it there, rather than bring it to work and experience the full joy in the confines of the office environment. It’s probably kinder for everyone that way.
So there you have it. Part 1. Before the real fun begins. I’ll be sure to keep you updated.
PS – some posts here just lend themselves open to way too many titles. This was one of them!
Now when I say certain things, let’s be specific. We’re talking about the last bits of the digestive system. Yes, its time for a colonoscopy. Can we say excited? Today is preparation day which means that since 10am I have been unable to eat (good for the diet, not for the soul?) and later today I get to drink some fluids that will apparently assist with the cleansing of the bits to be inspected. Given that this commences during work hours, I made the decision to leave the kit at home and meet it there, rather than bring it to work and experience the full joy in the confines of the office environment. It’s probably kinder for everyone that way.
So there you have it. Part 1. Before the real fun begins. I’ll be sure to keep you updated.
PS – some posts here just lend themselves open to way too many titles. This was one of them!
May 25, 2011
Over Excited
Saturday night just gone was the Swiss Club of South Australia’s annual fondue night. It’s something that we’ve been going to for a number of years with the obvious pause in attendance due to living out of the country. It’s always been a pretty good night and certainly guaranteed to get you just about the best cheese fondue that you can.
Last Saturday though, Caroline had spent most of the day in bed with flu-like symptoms and I had played a game of soccer in the afternoon and I simply didn’t really feel like making the effort to get there.
Caroline dearly wanted to go, but wasn’t sure that her health was up to it, but in the end we both soldiered on, knowing that once we dragged our sorry arses out of the house that we’d have a good time.
The cheese lived up to expectations and all was good up until the point that Caroline’s mum had a bit of a turn. One minute she was sorting out money for cocktails, the next her hand was shaking a little and suddenly she blacked out. I immediately grabbed my phone and called for the ambulance whilst Caroline propped up her mum.
The last time that I had called an ambulance it had been for Thomas when he’d managed to spurt blood in large quantities from his head on a wet and rocky path near Port Lincoln. I was caught somewhat by surprise when they started asking for the address. I knew that we were at the Austrian Club, but they wanted a specific address. Having rushed outside so that I could be heard when making the call, I then had to run around inside to find someone that knew the actual street address, the whole time not being able to check on how Connie was doing particularly because as with any crisis a crowd had gathered.
It seemed somewhat counter productive to me, when someone is clearly in distress, to surround them and add to the confusion, heat and noise in the room, but there wasn’t a lot I could do whilst on the phone to the ambulance. Fortunately by the time that I had finished talking to them, Connie had already regained conciousness, though was sick and disorientated.
The Ambos duly arrived, did their thing and loaded her into the back for ride into hospital to be checked out and monitored for the night. Given the riot of emotions that accompanies such events, the rest of us decided to call it a night.
Happily I can report that after the night of observation that Connie returned home, though it was certainly more excitement than we’d bargained for from a fondue night!
Last Saturday though, Caroline had spent most of the day in bed with flu-like symptoms and I had played a game of soccer in the afternoon and I simply didn’t really feel like making the effort to get there.
Caroline dearly wanted to go, but wasn’t sure that her health was up to it, but in the end we both soldiered on, knowing that once we dragged our sorry arses out of the house that we’d have a good time.
The cheese lived up to expectations and all was good up until the point that Caroline’s mum had a bit of a turn. One minute she was sorting out money for cocktails, the next her hand was shaking a little and suddenly she blacked out. I immediately grabbed my phone and called for the ambulance whilst Caroline propped up her mum.
The last time that I had called an ambulance it had been for Thomas when he’d managed to spurt blood in large quantities from his head on a wet and rocky path near Port Lincoln. I was caught somewhat by surprise when they started asking for the address. I knew that we were at the Austrian Club, but they wanted a specific address. Having rushed outside so that I could be heard when making the call, I then had to run around inside to find someone that knew the actual street address, the whole time not being able to check on how Connie was doing particularly because as with any crisis a crowd had gathered.
It seemed somewhat counter productive to me, when someone is clearly in distress, to surround them and add to the confusion, heat and noise in the room, but there wasn’t a lot I could do whilst on the phone to the ambulance. Fortunately by the time that I had finished talking to them, Connie had already regained conciousness, though was sick and disorientated.
The Ambos duly arrived, did their thing and loaded her into the back for ride into hospital to be checked out and monitored for the night. Given the riot of emotions that accompanies such events, the rest of us decided to call it a night.
Happily I can report that after the night of observation that Connie returned home, though it was certainly more excitement than we’d bargained for from a fondue night!
HI ho, hi ho, its off to camp we go
This morning, Michael left for camp. It sounds like it will be a fun camp, though I can understand that he has some trepidation. After all, they’re hiking in the Flinders Rangers and have to carry everything with them. That means that all the water that they’ll be drinking for three days is weighing down his back pack. Part of me wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he’d drunk 5 litres of water today just so that he didn’t have to lug it the entire distance.
I wasn’t impressed when the 7:30am drop off that I was expecting this morning was shifted to a 6am drop off, especially because that meant getting out of bed at 5:20am on a day when I would be driving several hundred kilometres for work.
We chucked the back pack in the car and headed off to the school only to have Michael say 5 minutes up the road that he had forgotten his packed lunch. Given that we were on something of a tight time line to get him there on time, I advised him that he’d just have to dip into the additional muesli bars that he’d taken along and deal with it.
It was all good until we got to the school, drove inside and found that there wasn’t a single, bus, teacher, student or parent anywhere to be seen. We quickly whipped around to the alternate entrance, but there was still no sign of anyone. I started questioning Michael as to whether he could have the time wrong, or the location only to find out that he wasn’t sure. So we called Caroline at home because the piece of paper we needed wasn’t in his locker and was suspected to be on the floor of his bedroom.
Well guess what? It wasn’t there. What was there however was the cutlery, plate and tea towel that Michael was supposed to have packed with his gear. At this point the emergency measures kicked in and Caroline put together a lunch, grabbed his remaining gear and set off to deliver it even though we were still unsure as to whether we were in the right place or not.
Fortunately in the time that it took Caroline to get there other people slowly started to arrive and when the first bus showed up I think we both breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Caroline made it in time and off we went, abandoning him to his adventure.
I just hope the raspy throat that he said he woke up with doesn’t turn into the flu that seemed to have hit Caroline over the weekend given that I’ve been driving somewhat close to the Flinders Ranges today and have seen nothing but patches of light to very heavy rain. With the weight of all the food that Michael packed, I’m not sure that he was overly generous with the whole clothing concept!
I wasn’t impressed when the 7:30am drop off that I was expecting this morning was shifted to a 6am drop off, especially because that meant getting out of bed at 5:20am on a day when I would be driving several hundred kilometres for work.
We chucked the back pack in the car and headed off to the school only to have Michael say 5 minutes up the road that he had forgotten his packed lunch. Given that we were on something of a tight time line to get him there on time, I advised him that he’d just have to dip into the additional muesli bars that he’d taken along and deal with it.
It was all good until we got to the school, drove inside and found that there wasn’t a single, bus, teacher, student or parent anywhere to be seen. We quickly whipped around to the alternate entrance, but there was still no sign of anyone. I started questioning Michael as to whether he could have the time wrong, or the location only to find out that he wasn’t sure. So we called Caroline at home because the piece of paper we needed wasn’t in his locker and was suspected to be on the floor of his bedroom.
Well guess what? It wasn’t there. What was there however was the cutlery, plate and tea towel that Michael was supposed to have packed with his gear. At this point the emergency measures kicked in and Caroline put together a lunch, grabbed his remaining gear and set off to deliver it even though we were still unsure as to whether we were in the right place or not.
Fortunately in the time that it took Caroline to get there other people slowly started to arrive and when the first bus showed up I think we both breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Caroline made it in time and off we went, abandoning him to his adventure.
I just hope the raspy throat that he said he woke up with doesn’t turn into the flu that seemed to have hit Caroline over the weekend given that I’ve been driving somewhat close to the Flinders Ranges today and have seen nothing but patches of light to very heavy rain. With the weight of all the food that Michael packed, I’m not sure that he was overly generous with the whole clothing concept!
May 3, 2011
Eeek
Easter at Pt Hughes was a little different this year to those gone by. Normally, we along with our families, friends and acquaintances occupy about 7 or so sites at the caravan park and of course contribute significantly to the population of the park over the Easter Weekend.
This year, we may have been outnumbered and all because of the rain. After several years of drought, there’s been quite a bit of rain in the last 12 months or so and this has meant that the crops are doing well, the insects are doing well and of course there’s plenty of food around for mice. The mice are doing particularly well.
Apparently they were about last year, but we were traipsing around the USA, so didn’t have to worry about them. This year, as dusk fell and we sat about having a quiet drink, they quickly became apparent as they’d hop along under the cars, or dart about seeking a bit of sustenance. We didn’t really worry about it much until the morning following our first night of cards. We’d left a pack of Cheetos in the annex (unopened) without really thinking about it as we stumbled off to bed. That following morning we found the bag of Cheetos and it had been substantially attacked, the foil wrapper nibbled through in several places. That certainly put us on alert.
Over the course of the weekend, we discovered just how pesky the little blighters could be and it was with much mirth (on my part at least) that you’d hear the occasional screech as one of the women in the party would discover a little field mouse somewhere unexpected. Michael and Sam weren’t particularly enamoured with them either given that they were sleeping in an extension of the annex and had quite a few visitors.
At one point I decided that we needed to clean up to ensure that they weren’t getting to cosy with us and lifted up the flap of the annex. Well, bugger me if 8 of the little blighters weren’t having a quiet little rest under there. You should have seen (and heard) Caroline as they all scrambled for another place of safety! Almost every single one of them seemed to runs straight for her.
Even our kayaks weren’t safe as when we unrolled one to put it in the water, there was a dead mouse in the bag. That meant that the second one needed to be unrolled the following day to be sure that we weren’t taking any home. Imagine my surprise when four were discovered.
When we packed up, we were very careful to shake everything and inspect it closely (not always sufficient as I found one morning after shaking Caroline’s shoe violently – nothing came out, but when I stuck my hand in, there was indeed a mouse clinging to the lining!) so that we could hopefully get home mouse free.
Well, boy did we fail that little test!
The morning after our return, Caroline informed me that the kids had left some bags of lollies in the car overnight and that it was very clear that mice had been at them. The holes in the bags were a definitive clue. I suggested that some mouse traps might be required and they were subsequently set. Over the course of the next 3 days, we managed to trap 9 mice in the car! NINE! Bloody ridiculous, but we got them and now the car is significantly more pleasant to be in than it was for a couple of days.
So far, there’s been no sign of any in the caravan and I sure as hell hope it stays that way!
This year, we may have been outnumbered and all because of the rain. After several years of drought, there’s been quite a bit of rain in the last 12 months or so and this has meant that the crops are doing well, the insects are doing well and of course there’s plenty of food around for mice. The mice are doing particularly well.
Apparently they were about last year, but we were traipsing around the USA, so didn’t have to worry about them. This year, as dusk fell and we sat about having a quiet drink, they quickly became apparent as they’d hop along under the cars, or dart about seeking a bit of sustenance. We didn’t really worry about it much until the morning following our first night of cards. We’d left a pack of Cheetos in the annex (unopened) without really thinking about it as we stumbled off to bed. That following morning we found the bag of Cheetos and it had been substantially attacked, the foil wrapper nibbled through in several places. That certainly put us on alert.
Over the course of the weekend, we discovered just how pesky the little blighters could be and it was with much mirth (on my part at least) that you’d hear the occasional screech as one of the women in the party would discover a little field mouse somewhere unexpected. Michael and Sam weren’t particularly enamoured with them either given that they were sleeping in an extension of the annex and had quite a few visitors.
At one point I decided that we needed to clean up to ensure that they weren’t getting to cosy with us and lifted up the flap of the annex. Well, bugger me if 8 of the little blighters weren’t having a quiet little rest under there. You should have seen (and heard) Caroline as they all scrambled for another place of safety! Almost every single one of them seemed to runs straight for her.
Even our kayaks weren’t safe as when we unrolled one to put it in the water, there was a dead mouse in the bag. That meant that the second one needed to be unrolled the following day to be sure that we weren’t taking any home. Imagine my surprise when four were discovered.
When we packed up, we were very careful to shake everything and inspect it closely (not always sufficient as I found one morning after shaking Caroline’s shoe violently – nothing came out, but when I stuck my hand in, there was indeed a mouse clinging to the lining!) so that we could hopefully get home mouse free.
Well, boy did we fail that little test!
The morning after our return, Caroline informed me that the kids had left some bags of lollies in the car overnight and that it was very clear that mice had been at them. The holes in the bags were a definitive clue. I suggested that some mouse traps might be required and they were subsequently set. Over the course of the next 3 days, we managed to trap 9 mice in the car! NINE! Bloody ridiculous, but we got them and now the car is significantly more pleasant to be in than it was for a couple of days.
So far, there’s been no sign of any in the caravan and I sure as hell hope it stays that way!
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