This year we recycled Emma’s costume from last year and sent her off Trick or Treating with her Mom. We could do this for a couple of reasons. One, because she still fit in the darn thing; and two, because I really don’t think Emma noticed. She’s two people! This was also the first year that Emma actually went door-to-door with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood. Last year we dressed her up and she stayed home with us to hand out candy (because that’s really all a one year old can handle). At two years old, you get to actually go trick-or-treating (to the houses of the five closest neighbors anyway). Our community is still under construction. The homes that have been constructed are spread out enough that visiting five homes was sufficient for a newbie.
This year I got tricked for Halloween and admitted myself to the local Hospital for a baseline colonoscopy (It certainly wasn’t a treat). It’s been something I have been dreading for years now but the timing was appropriate considering my Mother’s untimely death at the age of 51. Perhaps my biggest goal in life is to stay alive as long as I can for Emma. Losing my own Mother at such an early age has always made me feel rather jipped. Clearly it wasn’t my Mother’s fault, these things happen you know. But since she died of colon cancer, there is always the chance for a genetic link. We know today that colon cancer is one of the easiest forms of cancer to treat if caught early through routine screening. A baseline test for everyone should occur at age 50. In the case where one of your parents were afflicted by the disease the recommendation is that you are screened 10 years prior to your parents original diagnosis. Since I don’t know when that was (because details about my mother are hard to come by) I had to use fuzzy logic and take an educated guess to determine when my baseline should be taken. In short, I chose the ripe old age of 38. Better to be safe than sorry.
I was really nervous about the whole project (being a guy and all and somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of being violated in such an emasculating way) but I believe after watching everything Elena went through prior to and during our pregnancy, and focusing on the why it was necessary that I do this, I cowboyed-up, Brokeback-style and submitted to the test.
Everything I had ever heard about the procedure suggested that the prep-work the night before was the worse part. After having gone through it I suppose I would have to agree. It wasn’t awful, but it was also not desirable. I would say the worst part for me was the fasting. I hate to be hungry.
As far as the procedure is concerned, they narc you up with a cocktail of drugs that put you in a state referred to as “conscious sedation”. The idea is that you are sedated and numb to the procedure, but awake and responsive to any and all instructions. I had never been anesthetized before so this was an interesting experience for me. After having gone through it and comparing notes with Elena after the procedure, with regard to what transpired and what I remember transpiring, I have to say that I was on some trip. Essentially what happens is that they drug you up and you retain your complete personality, you might even feel pain and complain, carry on conversations, etc. but the combination of drugs does not let you remember a thing. I imagine they use the same stuff as truth serum for interrogation purposes. Apparently I spent an hour in recovery asking all sorts of poignant questions to the Dr. and nurses that came by. My questions were so good, Elena said, that she didn’t realize that I was mentally out of it and flying on autopilot the whole time. Scary stuff.
Anyway, the worst is behind me (no pun intended) and on Wednesday I visit with the Dr. to get the results of my lab work (They snipped out a single lonely polyp). Hopefully all is well and my mission will be accomplished for now.
