For a change, nothing of importance. First, I didn't get that colonoscopy done -- I cancelled the original appointment and re-scheduled for November 11. I should be ready to face the doctor (well, considering what's going to be done, I won't be facing the doctor) by then. I'll also have my parents' memorial behind me as well; maybe thoughts of them were factors in my initial hate/fear of getting the test done, even though their deaths were not releated to testing or any one particular test. Then there's bowling -- I got my average -- it's 127, so I'm not going to set the bowling world on fire. (Last night's games were 111, 110, and 170 respectively, for roughly a 130 average for the night.) Last night's bowling meant I didn't get to see the second part of the excellent three-part PBS special on Broadway, but nothing is going to keep me from seeing the third part tonight (note to readers: don't even think about calling between 9 and 11 pm). I'm not too concerned about missing part 2 -- this is one of those landmark specials that will be a staple of pledge weeks for years to come.
I'm still not voting for Bush. I'm not currently supporting Kerry (his 20-year record in the Senate -- hell, even his three-year record post 9/11 -- do nothing to make me think he should be the president). I'm waiting for my sample ballot to see if the Libertarian candidate is available in New Jersey. Telling me not to throw my vote away on a third party candidate will be met with a rousing appeal to talk to the hand -- I believe no vote is wasted if it is given to the candidate/party that most closely agrees with your view of the issues. Although I am not in agreement with their party platform regarding the war, they come closest to my own fiscal-conservative-and-social-liberal views, so they would earn my vote. Two weeks left to go, and I'm so excited about this election I could just, um, have a movement.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
You're nothing if you don't have your health. So sayeth the conventional widsom. On my last trip to the doctor, he didn't strongly suggest I get a colonoscopy, he arranged for the referral (necessary for the insurance company). Yesterday, I went in for the initial check. Big deal -- fill out the health history forms (don'tcha think *one* doctor could send a summary to the *other* doctor?), get my blood pressure taken, and allow the doctor to -- how can I put this delicately? -- palpate my prostate. (He liked it.) Quick test for blood in the stool comes up negative. Doctor shakes my hand and directs me to the nurse/clerk to make an appointment for the colonoscopy.
The n/c tells me that, no matter what, I have to have someone to drive me there and back for the procedure, because they sedate you for it. (I don't know why -- the doctor said the instrument is no bigger around than his finger, and I handled that with ease. No sniggering about gay men, if you please.) We settle on Thursday so that I can have Bill-the-honeybear do the driving -- although the n/c says I won't have the doctor I saw today doing the test (doesn't matter to me). Thursdays, he's at the hospital, and while I can have the test done there, it becomes an all-day procedure rather than -- she doesn't exactly say how long, but gives the impression it's only a couple of hours.
Then she gives me the instructions. (1) Fill prescription for something called Colyte, designed to help clean me out (at least it comes in five delicious flavors) Take the Colyte hourly starting at 4:00 p.m. Wednesday until it's all gone. (2) My medications: take half doses on Wednesday, nothing on Thursday before the test. (3) Food: nothing solid after 1:00 p.m. Wednesday. Clear liquids (broth, water, clear fruit juices (not orange), ginger ale, coffee, tea. Jell-O is allowed, but not red (looks like blood) or green (looks like feces). (4) Nothing at all after 6:00 a.m. Thursday -- but anything I want after the test.
And all this because I'm over 50.
Then there are the standard "chances of anything going wrong" statements. 1 in 1000 that the instrument will break through the colon or bowel wall, which necessitates surgery. 1 in 1000 that there will be some bleeding related to the test. The one I like best: 1 in 1.8 million that I'll die. (I must check out if that's better or worse than my chances of car accident, plane crash, or lightning strike.) And just to make me feel better, they ask if I have an advance directive, living will, or some such, and would I bring a copy with me please.
I hate this. I'm afraid of this. I know it's necessary, but that knowledge doesn't make the hate and fear go away.
In case you were wondering: My sister managed to get through everything Mother Nature threw at Florida recently with only minor consequences. Her stepson and his wife had slightly more damage (they live in Punta Gorda, the area where Charley made landfall) but still came out mostly OK. Other members of the wife's family were hit with varying degrees of damage -- her mother is looking at this as an opportunity to get her husband to move, finally, to their vacation house on the opposite coast. But my family came out pretty much fine.
Two weeks to go, and I still don't know who I'm voting for. Not Bush -- the FMA and the incredible mess in post-war Iraq make him the wrong man for the job. Not Kerry -- nothing he says seems to jibe with what he said yesterday, or a year ago, or on 9/12, or any point in his 20 year Senate career. (By the way, why haven't I heard anything about Kerry's Senate record? Seems to me that would be a better indicator of what the man stands for than what he did/didn't in Vietnam, or his work with Vietnam Veterans Against the War.) Now, my opinion may change -- there's still two weeks left -- but right now, I'm still not sure.
Didja notice? You can post comments on my posts now -- a new-ish feature of Blogspot. Just remember, this blog is still all about me.
The n/c tells me that, no matter what, I have to have someone to drive me there and back for the procedure, because they sedate you for it. (I don't know why -- the doctor said the instrument is no bigger around than his finger, and I handled that with ease. No sniggering about gay men, if you please.) We settle on Thursday so that I can have Bill-the-honeybear do the driving -- although the n/c says I won't have the doctor I saw today doing the test (doesn't matter to me). Thursdays, he's at the hospital, and while I can have the test done there, it becomes an all-day procedure rather than -- she doesn't exactly say how long, but gives the impression it's only a couple of hours.
Then she gives me the instructions. (1) Fill prescription for something called Colyte, designed to help clean me out (at least it comes in five delicious flavors) Take the Colyte hourly starting at 4:00 p.m. Wednesday until it's all gone. (2) My medications: take half doses on Wednesday, nothing on Thursday before the test. (3) Food: nothing solid after 1:00 p.m. Wednesday. Clear liquids (broth, water, clear fruit juices (not orange), ginger ale, coffee, tea. Jell-O is allowed, but not red (looks like blood) or green (looks like feces). (4) Nothing at all after 6:00 a.m. Thursday -- but anything I want after the test.
And all this because I'm over 50.
Then there are the standard "chances of anything going wrong" statements. 1 in 1000 that the instrument will break through the colon or bowel wall, which necessitates surgery. 1 in 1000 that there will be some bleeding related to the test. The one I like best: 1 in 1.8 million that I'll die. (I must check out if that's better or worse than my chances of car accident, plane crash, or lightning strike.) And just to make me feel better, they ask if I have an advance directive, living will, or some such, and would I bring a copy with me please.
I hate this. I'm afraid of this. I know it's necessary, but that knowledge doesn't make the hate and fear go away.
In case you were wondering: My sister managed to get through everything Mother Nature threw at Florida recently with only minor consequences. Her stepson and his wife had slightly more damage (they live in Punta Gorda, the area where Charley made landfall) but still came out mostly OK. Other members of the wife's family were hit with varying degrees of damage -- her mother is looking at this as an opportunity to get her husband to move, finally, to their vacation house on the opposite coast. But my family came out pretty much fine.
Two weeks to go, and I still don't know who I'm voting for. Not Bush -- the FMA and the incredible mess in post-war Iraq make him the wrong man for the job. Not Kerry -- nothing he says seems to jibe with what he said yesterday, or a year ago, or on 9/12, or any point in his 20 year Senate career. (By the way, why haven't I heard anything about Kerry's Senate record? Seems to me that would be a better indicator of what the man stands for than what he did/didn't in Vietnam, or his work with Vietnam Veterans Against the War.) Now, my opinion may change -- there's still two weeks left -- but right now, I'm still not sure.
Didja notice? You can post comments on my posts now -- a new-ish feature of Blogspot. Just remember, this blog is still all about me.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Where has the time all gone to? I could have sworn that it was June only a day or so ago. Even last week, the October temperatures were in the 70's. Now I know why another name for "autumn" is "fall" -- because the change descends on you without warning or notice.
Wonderful world of color -- or colour, as our neighbors to the north spell it. The honeybear and I drove up to Toronto (7.75 hours if you don't stop, 10 hours if you do). I can't complain about the drive -- mostly interstate highways, plus the Queen Elizabeth Way, so it's nice easy driving, plus we were going against the flow of rush hour traffic. The bonus was getting to see the fall foliage -- not in New England (as Yogi Berra said, there are so many people there nobody goes there), but in Pennsylvania and New York and Ontario. The best was in the hills of Pennsylvania, especally with morning sunshine. Driving doesn't get better than this.
And how was the vacation, you ask? Just fine, thanks. We stayed at a bed-and-breakfast just two blocks away from the Church-Wellesley neighborhood (aka the gay district). We had easy access to the excellent Toronto Transportation Commission network of subways and streetcars. (Fie to all those cities which gave up the streetcar! It's a nice way to get around, uses electricity instead of diesel fuel, and you get a leisurely view of the city. Every big city in the US would have them, if I ruled the world.) We had made up a list of things that might be interesting to see, but agreed that we wouldn't have to see everything on the list, which meant we saw most of them and had time to see some additional sights. We saw the Toronto "home team" of The Second City -- even funnier than we expected. And the food was, for the most part, very good. (Avoid the Bright Pearl restaurant in Chinatown at all costs.) Bill even found that his style of broadcasting is alive and well in Toronto.
Home for the holidays? Well, yes and no. Monday (October 11) was Thanksgiving Day in Canada, and the restaurant we ate at the night before (a pub in Church-Wellesley) was offering a turkey dinner with all the trimmings -- so you could say we practiced for American Thanksgiving already. And Toronto felt open and friendly to us, so in a way we were at home (staying at a b&b adds to that feeling).
All good things... Well, we couldn't stay there forever. We headed back home on the 11th -- through almost uniformly gray weather, with morning drizzle to send us off. Like every vacation, this one was too short. Like few vacations, this one is worth repeating, and (given the proximity) sooner rather than later.
Wonderful world of color -- or colour, as our neighbors to the north spell it. The honeybear and I drove up to Toronto (7.75 hours if you don't stop, 10 hours if you do). I can't complain about the drive -- mostly interstate highways, plus the Queen Elizabeth Way, so it's nice easy driving, plus we were going against the flow of rush hour traffic. The bonus was getting to see the fall foliage -- not in New England (as Yogi Berra said, there are so many people there nobody goes there), but in Pennsylvania and New York and Ontario. The best was in the hills of Pennsylvania, especally with morning sunshine. Driving doesn't get better than this.
And how was the vacation, you ask? Just fine, thanks. We stayed at a bed-and-breakfast just two blocks away from the Church-Wellesley neighborhood (aka the gay district). We had easy access to the excellent Toronto Transportation Commission network of subways and streetcars. (Fie to all those cities which gave up the streetcar! It's a nice way to get around, uses electricity instead of diesel fuel, and you get a leisurely view of the city. Every big city in the US would have them, if I ruled the world.) We had made up a list of things that might be interesting to see, but agreed that we wouldn't have to see everything on the list, which meant we saw most of them and had time to see some additional sights. We saw the Toronto "home team" of The Second City -- even funnier than we expected. And the food was, for the most part, very good. (Avoid the Bright Pearl restaurant in Chinatown at all costs.) Bill even found that his style of broadcasting is alive and well in Toronto.
Home for the holidays? Well, yes and no. Monday (October 11) was Thanksgiving Day in Canada, and the restaurant we ate at the night before (a pub in Church-Wellesley) was offering a turkey dinner with all the trimmings -- so you could say we practiced for American Thanksgiving already. And Toronto felt open and friendly to us, so in a way we were at home (staying at a b&b adds to that feeling).
All good things... Well, we couldn't stay there forever. We headed back home on the 11th -- through almost uniformly gray weather, with morning drizzle to send us off. Like every vacation, this one was too short. Like few vacations, this one is worth repeating, and (given the proximity) sooner rather than later.
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