Well today was interesting to say the least. Not to mention last night after drinking the gallon of salt solution that left my ass foaming. That could have been from the one shot of Blended J&B Scotch I downed at 11:00 p.m. last night. Hey, I couldn't sleep. But that part of this ordeal (notice I say or-deal as a deal is something good, this was an OR notsogood deal) is over and as I walked outside at 6:00 a.m.to get into Jackie's new huge SUV touch tone everything, all the while knowing my paid for Buick in the underground was probably so beyond Jealous that I shall have to make it up to her somehow. Jackie, my friend of 30 years, from Florida was home for a visit. She was so nervous about getting me there on time that she came an hour early. I told her, Hell we have enough time to get to Rockford. Of course she laughed. That is when I noticed the full moon. I absolutely froze in my early morning tracks. I never do medcial appointments during a full moon. No never. You can die by bleed out from doing that. Hey my anxious button was in overdrive today. I saw the parking ramp caving in on us and rubble everywhere. When Jackie pulled into the parking slot (I could see the sky) I was sure we were going thru it and down to death.) But here we were heading for the dreaded poop shooter, alias, the Silver Stallion dreaded scope review. Of which I informed the doctor I had a different vision of what a Silver Stallion is. I told him/them that in my day, which means youth before butt scoping needs, I think they used to call Sylvester Stalone "The Italian Stallion." You know, Sylvester Stalone? The YOUNG doc just stood there looking at me. I said, "Have you heard of Arnold Swartzaneger? Which of course broke the room into laughter. All except me who was staring at a syringe of something setting on a tray nearby.
I asked what is in the syringe, and she said, Benedryl. I told her I don't do so well taking taht family of drugs.... but she shot it into me anyway. God they know when they can do whatever they want. I'd say this was one of those when times. Oh and they told me I could leave my socks on.
What? They don't know how many days I have worn those socks,or where they have walked, or what is on the bottoms of the. Made no diff and so socks went with me into the rotor rooter room. Just think, those socks that could have been dirty full of germs were two feet from my ass.. Jeez. And I had gotten a beautiful little flower painted on my big toe nails just to make them all happy while they "did my ass," but they said no leave your socks on. I said, "No,wait, the flower, W A I T....." And that is when they gave me the dose of fentynol and something else and Benedryl. People.....I don't take
more than a 200 mg. Ibuprofen and that is on occasion. HELLO... And then in a nanosecond I am gone with the full moon.
I wake up. No I don't wake up exactly. I open my eyes a little. Jackie tells the nurse in a loud anticipatory skinny skriek. "SHE'S AWAKE!" (Like I had been in a coma for months) Nurse comes in quickly as I suspect I have taken up one of their expensive move em in move em out beds for sleeping too long. Jackie told me she never saw anyone so out of it. Well I never felt so out of it either. They hustled me out of there on Jackie's arm. Jackie is the size of a fairy, which I told her while under the influence of fentynal, she could use an extra twenty pounds easy. Seriously. My Grandfather would have loved her.... He used to sing this little Popeye song that fits her to a T.
"I love to go swimming with bowlegged women
I'm Popeye the sailor man!"
Jackie has enough room between her legs for a mac truck to drive home, I mean through.
That would be Jackie. She might weight 85 pounds wetted down. Back to my point. We drove out of that place, me in a drug induced state and her trying to see over the steering wheel of the hog SUV she rented. S C A R Y!
She stopped and got me a Whopper and fries. I recall eating two fries and two bites of the burger. Do not remember getting into the SUV honker at the hospital/stockyard. (Or even getting out of at home.)
..Fairy sized person walked me straight to bed with my clothes on and I was GONE with the wind! (The gases one gets from the air expelled into the colon from the silver stallion, now renamed, Black Stallion probe) And that is straight from the "horses" (doc's) mouth. That was 11:30 and I woke up at 3:30, still dizzy and drunk on something. I ate part of the rest of
the burger and limp fries, which I wished on that doctor (the limp part) for overdosing me when I specifically told them how sensitive I am to drugs. He was very handsome fellow by the way. So if anyone had to go up my, ass, I guess he would do just fine.
I only hope I didn't talk during because the procedure as I am liable to say anything. Why, because I had an audience. Everyone was laughing from the time I arrived until the drugs went into my vein at which time it was, bye bye birdie!
I have had many procedure's similar to this. None have I ever felt so "shitty." Actually I have no "shitty" left so that means I have never felt so just plain awful. I don't mean to complain, but I was looking forward to the vein injection due to past good experiences from said same. I was anticipating the best sleep I've had in months. Notsomuch!
And I want cake and I cant even drive to get any. I wouldn't dare drive. I can hardly turn in my computer chair. Dizzy-Doris!
So they found two polyps and took them from me. They are being sent by courier or runner to some lab for cancer screening.
So here I am. Sitting in the lil apt. unable to walk far, and no cake. Hey, at least my ass has stopped foaming. Poor thang. (That was probably from the full moon ) My bad or not checking on that! Certainly not from the shot of Scotch. Okay so shot and one half.
I a deep breath, and then again. I survived the 2013 fentanyl/fentynal/midozolam conscious sedation procedure. What am I thinking? (Assholes loud and clear!) I noticed they all had banker suits on vs health care. Anesthesiologists cost too much. Nurses don't. I have been cut! I had been reduced to one of the herd who got branded like a cow. I tried to turn and look in the mirror to see if they had branded me ass, or put a chip in me anywhere. No numbers on my forehead. Guess I'm safe. Yet I know they were watching... You know the ones. ( Congress) Bet they get an anesthesiologist.
So until my next procedure or I find something funny or interesting. Be safe, Be well, Be Happy, and GET RICH so you can rent an anesthesiologist the next time some cute doctor wants to play Sylvestor Stylone up your ass. Just kidding! Laters