Rare Vintage: Cherry Vile
November 1, 2008
Thursday, I drank colonoscopy prep juice all day. It was a rare vintage: Vile.
I had my choice of five flavors. I chose cherry. Check your supermarket soon as there will soon be a new popular soft drink on the shelves: Cherry Vile.
The drink looked clear as I drank it. My assignment was to continue drinking it until it looked clear after it came out. By nine o’clock at night, my wife asked, “Are you coming to bed yet?”
I answered, “It’s not quite clear enough yet.” My wife is sure I am a bit dim.
The next morning, my wife drove me to the clinic. We sat in the waiting room with the other people who had been drinking whatever flavor of Vile they preferred.
The reception staff and the nurses were all kind and efficient. I love kindness and efficiency, especially when it is directed at me.
Five years ago or so, I underwent my first colonoscopy. The doctor at that time discovered and removed polyps, leaving a bit of concern.
This time the doctor found no polyps. In fact, he informed me that my colon is in spic and span condition. He informed me that it is one of the best colons he has seen. Perhaps I should wear a t-shirt proclaiming: My colon can beat up your colon.
At the start of the procedure, the kind nurses put warm towels over me, spoke to me kindly, gently administered anesthetic.
At the end of the procedure, as a special treat, they administered schadenfruede. As I rested in my recovery cubicle, I overheard a conversation in the next recovery cubicle. A gentleman in his forties had been experiencing pain. His doctor prescribed a colonoscopy. I heard the colonoscopy doctor delivering the results. The results involved diverticulitis, difficult to access polyps, wait for biopsy. At the very least, the gentleman will have to come back for another colonoscopy in six months.
My colonoscopy doctor told me I should come back in five years.
My wife took me home. I ate a Spitzenberg apple she had just picked from our apple tree and a sandwich. One of the Spitzenberg apples is hanging on a low branch where Random Granddaughter can pick it by herself when she visits us Saturday.