Saturday. Two days to go. To what, you ask? My colonoscopy. I can not wait. I absolutely can not wait... I'm so excited I can't stand it.
And if you believe any of that... let me tell you about another townhouse I'm going to buy.
Today we are heading to my cousin Jamie's house. Cousin Jamie is feeding us. Cousin Jamie feels sorry for me. I hope. Cousin Jamie cooks wonderfully and when we were invited over to EAT I definitely said yes. It will be my last meal.
Thank you Jamie... I look forward to this get together.
I am not looking forward to what it means, though. It means that I am that much closer to Monday's procedure... THE COLONOSCOPY.
I hear it's a breeze. And it may be. But the junk leading up to it IS NOT!
I can not eat on Sunday, save for some "clear liquids." That means I might as well be eating water. I also get to drink a fun concoction that I get to create. I GET TO CREATE IT! Do they not know that cooking is not my forte? Even mixing up the great green liquid will be a challenge to me. And drinking it? I can't even fathom it. The instructions on the bottle said: If you vomit, call this number.
They are even anticipating that my ability to "cook" it will not be pretty.
In the meantime? I love Jamie. She will feed me "the last supper."
Maybe Jamie could slip some pizza into my green drink on Sunday. Maybe Jamie could just have the procedure for me.