Earlier this week I experienced one of the "rites of passage" to senior citizenry. People are urged at the age of 50 years to submit themselves to a colonoscopy. Many delay it, others choose to avoid it completely. I was in the latter group (ignorance is bliss, right?) until my painful diverticulitis attack in May.
I won't chronicle the scientific details or give a play-by-play of my own event. You can watch a video at the Mayo clinic link in the previous paragraph, or any of many entertaining videos on YouTube. Information abounds on the Internet, as well as horror stories.
I was very nervous for many days before this test. I am a control freak, and the idea that I do not have consciousness of what is happening to me (and thus do not have input to any decisions made *about* me) is difficult to accept. For the five days before the test I followed the doctor's instruction sheet to the letter, and more; no nuts or foods with whole seeds, no lettuce, no cabbage, no spinach. No popcorn, my favorite snack! I totally gave up eating for three days (not just one, as recommended) so I would be nice and empty before using the "clean-out" solution. This, on top of eating so little the last two months I have now lost 30 pounds. Believe me, I was hungry and very thirsty when I arrived at the endoscopy center! How stressed was I? My blood pressure was 150/100. I'm usually 120/70.
The sweetest thing about the whole thing is that my dear husband got up at 4:00 in the morning so he could take care of his demanding clients before my 8:00 AM appointment. The test is only about 30 minutes in good circumstances, but there is a good bit of waiting before it starts and a bit after it's over. He spent 3 hours just waiting with me. While we were in the pre-procedure waiting mode, I sitting on the hospital bed in hospital gown and tied to IV and patient husband nearby, he reached into his laptop case and pulled out (insert shocked gasp here) A KING-SIZE SNICKER BAR!
"How dare you bring that here!" I exclaimed. "How dare you even SHOW that thing to me in my current state of starvation!" He teased me with it for a bit of time, then tucked it into the sheet folded at my feet. He said, "Emergency rations for you." Bless his heart, he brought it for me!
The nice people let it stay on the bed with me while I was carted into the exam room, they placed it with my clothing on a little shelf built in to the underside of the bed while doing the procedure, and retrieved it for me when I was awake. They wheeled me to the recovery area and brought my husband from the waiting room. He immediately opened that Snicker bar and gave me the first bite.
I am blessed to have this man as my husband and my friend. He looks out for me, loves me when I am least lovable, makes me laugh. He calms me when I am afraid, helps me solve problematic issues practically when I would run on pure emotion, keeps me from obsessing on things that just don't matter. He reminds me that God is in control when I get angry at the things I can NOT control. The Bible says husbands are to "love their wives as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for it..." My husband lives this out every day. I am thankful for this precious gift.
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